My plans were now to try for lion along the banks of the Niger, near a place called Sébi, and afterwards to make for Saraere, where there was also the possibility of lion, and finally to march to Lake Bambara Maaundé, a fine hunting locality for elephant and several varieties of big game. Most of the inhabitants here are Fulanis, and their occupation is tending big herds of cattle. The country is thinly populated, and thus is well suited for game. A horse was essential for shooting, but I was unable to buy one, so had to be content for the present with hiring daily from village to village—a troublesome and unsatisfactory proceeding.
CHAPTER XV
Game on the Issa-Ber — Hiring a canoe — A leaky craft — Borgou grass — Fish tanks — Sebi — Tracks of lions — Good wildfowl shooting — Tortures of a native saddle — Mamadu’s horsemanship — A flat country — Fulani villages — Saraféré — Desert winds — Niger canoes — Hardy hunters — Ancient fire-arms — Lion shooting — The Fulanis.
ON the 13th of March I left Gauba. For the first few miles our way lay through a swampy country, consisting of creeks and backwaters of the Niger, or to be more accurate, of the Issa-Ber. Hundreds of waterfowl of all descriptions were preening their feathers in the morning sun, sitting in groups on the little islands in the middle of the streams or floating lazily near the banks, watching us with suspicious looks as we approached. Numerous game tracks led down to the water’s edge, the footprints showing clearly in the soft soil. Waterbuck and kob appeared to frequent these haunts in the early morning, while wart-hog were very common. Allowing my carriers to go on, I was able to secure some good specimens without proceeding far into the bush on the higher ground to the west of our road.
On arriving at the village of Sibo I was told that further progress by road was impossible, as the floods had been high that year and the track was still under water. The only course to adopt was to go by canoe. Hiring a canoe or any business transaction is always a lengthy proceeding where the West African native is concerned. The chief of the place had first to be summoned, and, of course, was not to be found for some time. The virtue of patience is, indeed, a golden one to possess in this land. The native’s methods are invariably dilatory since time has no value for him. But it is easy to preach patience and a great deal harder to practise it when one is in a hurry to get things done. In this case I was kept waiting a couple of hours before the chief arrived. The policeman provided by the Commissioner at Niafounké had unfortunately not yet reached me, but was to do so during the course of that morning. When the chief had arrived a considerable discussion took place between his insubordinate followers as to which one should supply the craft, until I cut matters short by securing the best canoe I could find and telling the chief I would send him back to Niafounké with a message to the Commissioner unless the paddlers were forthcoming within half an hour. Matters were at length settled, and my few belongings quickly stowed on board.
Mamadu had secured a large earthenware pot, a very necessary article for culinary purposes in a wooden canoe, as the fire had to be lighted in this receptacle, and we were just shoving-off when the policeman cantered up on his steed. As it was not possible to take this beast on the canoe it had to be left at the village.
The canoe was about twenty feet long, leaked considerably and had no awning, so I looked forward to a hot and uncomfortable journey. My expectations were fully realized. In spite of two men being constantly on duty to bale out, we made so much water that at one time I feared we would have to run ashore and patch her up before the voyage could be continued. The sun, too, was very trying that day. It poured its rays mercilessly upon our heads until at last I was driven to take refuge, in a rather ignominious fashion, by lying at full length on my back, and placing my camp-table across two seats I was able to get a little welcome shade underneath it. The chief discomfort of my position was due to the water at the bottom of the boat, so that I was immersed in a perpetual bath.
We were now in the Issa-Ber. The banks were sandy, and scrub was scanty and stunted. The river is nearly a mile wide in many places, and frequently too deep for poling to be effective. These canoes are manipulated in two ways, either by paddles or poles. The canoemen are expert at both these methods, but, owing to the strong wind which is so prevalent, it is often hard work to make much progress with paddles. The poles are merely long bamboos or palm stalks, and with these the craft can be propelled in the shallower water near the banks. When poling, we constantly found further progress barred by thick masses of “borgou” grass. This grass has its roots often twelve or fifteen feet deep in the water; it grows so densely that it makes a thick matting from the surface of the water downwards, through which it is extremely difficult to penetrate. The appearance is somewhat similar to “sudd,” found on other rivers in the tropics; and in many of the streams where navigation is not frequent the whole channel is blocked, so that the only successful means of dealing with it would appear to be to have a small steamer fitted with a cutting apparatus to hew a channel for itself as it moves through the water.
My servant could not speak Fulani or Sonrhai, the two languages now required, so I found the policeman doubly useful; indeed, without him it would have been hard to get anything done.
In several places we saw fish tanks, made on the edge of the river banks, where the “borgou” was clearer or had been cut away by the natives. Fish were first caught in traps or nets and then stored in the tank alive. The riverside people are great consumers of dried fish, live ones being taken out of the tanks as requirements dictated, to be dried for local consumption or for trade at neighbouring inland markets. At the time these fish were being dried on the river banks the stench proceeding from them was most unpleasant, making it necessary to give the shore a wide berth.