Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

Sand-flies on the river banks were frequently very bad at night. I found that my small-meshed mosquito-curtain was invaluable. But the worst time for these plaguy little creatures was between sundown and bedtime. They seemed to be aware how helpless we were, and took the opportunity of making the most of those two or three hours. Big logs of wood were scarce, and somehow a lot of small fires did not seem to give the same immunity from their attacks as did one big log fire. I preferred to sleep on shore, but my companions usually slept on board. The chief drawback to sleeping on shore was that one had to rise in the dark in order to get the kit stowed aboard before we started. The nights were very cool and pleasant, and being safe under my net from the onslaughts of the insects, I always managed to sleep very comfortably.

On the 3rd of March we reached Ségou. This town is 112 miles down the Niger from Koulikoro, on the right bank of the river. As we approached the hitherto brown, sandy banks became fringed with fresh green vegetation; this was tobacco, which is grown to a great extent here. The leaf is small, and therefore, although the tobacco is of good quality, it is not worth exporting to France. The natives smoke it and use it as snuff. Tobacco is a greatly appreciated luxury in this country. It is only grown in strictly limited localities, and invariably commands a high price in the market. The tobacco plantations gradually disappeared as we drew nearer to the town, and wide-spreading trees made their appearance together with the Europeans’ gardens of vegetables and flowers. Ségou is the capital of the district of that name; it is an important trading place with a fairly large population of white men.

We were to stay here three hours, so I went ashore to call on the Commissioner. He lived in a well-built mud house, a portion of which was his office. While talking to him a young Frenchman entered to whom I was introduced. He was the agent of the French Cotton-Growing Association. This gentleman very kindly offered to show me his ginning apparatus, a proposal which I eagerly accepted. M. Level, who spoke English remarkably well, was a most interesting man to meet. He had had a large experience of cotton-growing in different parts of the world, and was therefore peculiarly qualified to speak on this subject. A good deal of cotton is grown in the basin of the Niger about here, Ségou being the central market to which the stuff is generally brought.

Native-grown cotton, as was previously explained, is short in the staple and rather coarse. The French Cotton-Growing Association has tried to introduce the cultivation of Egyptian and American cotton. M. Level had distributed large quantities of these seeds to the natives in the endeavour to induce them to grow a better class of cotton, but, he informed me, the result so far had not been very encouraging. The output had been small compared with the quantity of seed distributed, and this, it appeared, was not so much due to the soil being unsuitable, as to the natives being too lazy to plant the cotton. Ginning is carried on upon a big scale; there is also a hydraulic press for compressing the cotton as it is packed into bales. The Association has its own barges which transport the cotton to Koulikoro for shipment to Europe. There are also two other branches; one in the south of the colony on the Bani River, and the other at Kayes, on the Senegal River.

M. Level introduced me to the officers of the garrison, who took me to their quarters and were most eager to be told all about the life of a British officer in West Africa, and to know whether I thought it differed much from their mode of living. In many cases the French do not have regular messes, but each officer lives by himself, and once or twice in the week each individual takes a turn in inviting his brother officers to dinner or déjeuner. They seem to prefer this method, saying it obviates the disadvantage of the too-close companionship of mess life.

On leaving Ségou we had a recurrence of the troubles of the previous day. In fact, this portion of the Niger is the most difficult to navigate of any part between Koulikoro and Timbuctu. The channel is continually blocked by shoals, making progress very slow and travelling very irksome. There are a lot of fishing villages about here, and large herds of cattle are seen at times. The fisherfolk are Bosos, a hardy race, but people of no great intelligence. The Bosos are pagans; they are looked down on by the superior tribes who surround them, and appear to have little ambition. These people have ever been a downtrodden race, so that probably any spirit they once had was long ago crushed by their numerous conquerors during the troubled times before the French appeared at the end of last century.

The next day we arrived at Sansanding, where we had to halt a whole day to effect some repairs to the machinery. This place is a semi-independent native State, governed by a native ruler, called the “Fama.” It is interesting as being the only native State with its own little Government in the colony, or I believe in the whole of French West Africa. The Fama is a most enlightened man, who was educated at the Government College at Kayes, and afterwards went to France. He speaks French well and has very sound ideas for a native about the administration of his Government. He has built himself a European house, in which he possesses French furniture, pictures, china and a host of modern comforts. He was very hospitable, insisting on our partaking of wine and coffee with him. The town is neatly built and kept in good order.

Owing to the shallow water we had to anchor two miles down-stream, and went up the small creek leading to the town in a canoe. Between the town and the launch there was a stretch of grassy bush, so, before returning to the boat, I decided to investigate the shooting possibilities of this bit of country, intending to walk back by the river bank. I was alone on this occasion, as the French non-commissioned officer who used to accompany me had disembarked at Ségou, whence he would march to his destination in the south of the colony. The Fama’s shooting-ground proved to be an excellent one. The good people of Sansanding had evidently not much acquaintance with guns, and were quite scared when they saw me raise a harmless-looking object to my shoulder and simultaneously heard a report. When a bird fell the astonishment of the natives was great. I believe they thought it the work of some wonderful and mysterious “medicine.” Most of my beaters dispersed with marvellous rapidity at the noise of the discharge. Weapons of any description are scarce here, but the chief national arm is the spear, although even that is but rarely seen.

On returning to the launch I found a small fish market was in progress on the sandy river bank. The wives of the soldiers, who were being towed in the steel canoe behind us, were bargaining with great zest and vehemence. It appeared that the buyers and sellers had very divergent views on the subject of what was a fair price to charge. If I had not fortunately arrived on the scene I am afraid the ladies of the two parties would so far have forgotten their good manners as to come to blows.

On leaving Sansanding the boat was hailed by a canoe which just came round a bend in the river as we started. We hove to and awaited the arrival of the occupant. It was one of the sons of the Fama, who had come with a present of milk and eggs from his father. This youth, whom we had not seen on paying our visit to the town that morning, also spoke French and had been to the High School at Dakar for his education. I am afraid, however, that he will never be so fine a specimen of a native as the present Fama, and it seems doubtful if he will have the chance of succeeding his father. I understand that when the present ruler dies the French intend to incorporate Sansanding as a new district in the colony of Upper Senegal and Niger.