Through Timbuctu and across the great Sahara /

by A. H. W. Haywood

The country may be, and frequently is, compared with Egypt. There is a striking similarity between the physical geography of the two lands. In each case a mighty river flowing through a flat, sandy country, fertilizes huge tracts of land on its banks by its annual inundations. But here the resemblance ends.

In Egypt nature’s handiwork is aided and improved by artificial irrigation—digging canals, making dams, etc.

In the Western Soudan nature does everything and man does nothing. The native is too lazy to dig irrigation canals, for he makes large profits out of his grain crops as they are, and has not the necessary ambition to wish to increase them. “I have enough to eat and clothe myself,” says he, “and there is sufficient to satisfy the needs of my wife and children; therefore, why should I toil further?” His mode of argument is a natural one and is very common in the fertile countries of West Africa. It is an acknowledged fact that not a quarter of the fertile land is under cultivation, and by judicious irrigation the fertile area could be more than doubled. The population is undoubtedly small compared with the area of the country, but the existing numbers could certainly grow far larger crops than they do at present, without greatly increasing their working days.

The population is augmenting rapidly, as a natural result of the existing prosperity and peace under the French rule; for this land suffered like so many others from the constant petty wars which were waged up to the end of last century.

In the season of the floods it must be a wonderful sight to gaze from Mopti over the huge lake which spreads its waters over the face of the land for 100 miles in one direction and sixty miles without interruption in another direction. I regretted that I was travelling in the middle of the dry season, and when I was at Mopti the rivers were confined within their natural limits. I was told that when the country was inundated the game all herded together in the few dry spots available, so that shooting them was positively slaughter. The unfortunate animals are frequently surprised by the sudden and rapid rise of the water, being either drowned or cut off without chance of retreat until the water subsides.

Owing to the existence of these waterways transport by river in the Macina Province is obviously greatly facilitated. The Bani River is navigable to Djenné, 100 kilometres distant, and even at times to the town of Sikasso. Djenné is not actually on the Bani, but a navigable creek connects the town with the stream. Lighters and launches can use that river as long as they can navigate the Niger; canoes can use it during all the months of the year without difficulty. The future of this province seems to be assured, for the increasing population will give a great impetus to rice and millet growing; in the course of time irrigation is certain to be introduced, and the revenue will go up by leaps and bounds.

Almost immediately opposite the junction of the rivers Niger and Bani there is a small town, with an imposing-looking building of wood and galvanized iron. The place is Charlotte Ville, while the house, I was informed by a pilot, belonged to the “King of Mopti.” Charlotte Ville is really a part of Mopti, and as one proceeds up the Bani the two other portions of which the place is composed come into view. These two latter, being quite two miles from the former, are close together, standing on the top of miniature elevations rising out of the surrounding plain.

The centre portion is the abode of the Resident and traders; all the natives are being gradually relegated to the southern part; while Charlotte Ville is noteworthy for being the residence of a French colonist. It was this colonist who was mentioned to me as being the “King of Mopti,” and I was much surprised to hear that his majesty was a white man. I believe his title originated from a large fortune which he had made, and lost, in the place. In any case he had lived many years at Mopti, had had large dealings with the natives, and was well known to them for many miles around. This gentleman supplied the Europeans with vegetables and fruit from a fine large farm which he had made on the place.

At Mopti proper, where the Resident resides, the place has quite a civilized appearance. On approaching it we could see several European buildings with tin roofs, conspicuous amongst the brown, mud-built native houses. The town is built well up on a slight eminence for the reasons previously stated, a wide stretch of sandy foreshore extending down to the water edge. A few leafy trees throw a grateful shade on the front of the town, otherwise trees are singularly deficient around Mopti. The surrounding plain, when I passed through, was covered with scrubby grass, very much burnt up at this time of the year. The market-place has a distinctly Moorish appearance. This portion of the town is behind the European quarters, and consists of small, narrow streets in which are long rows of mud-built booths, open at the back and front, where are to be seen the vendors of local produce, squatted native-fashion behind their wares.

The Resident was away when I arrived, but I was shown the places of interest by the Assistant Resident, who, by his wide knowledge of the natives and the country, had evidently an extended experience of them.