In the village where I stayed that night I saw what is an unusual sight in Sierra Leone, a horse, or, to be strictly accurate, a small and weedy-looking pony. The proud owner was the chief, whose dignity and authority were considerably augmented by the possession of this quadruped. The disease called “Trypnasomiasis,” conveyed by the tsetse fly, is very prevalent in the protectorate, and is fatal to horses and cattle. It is, however, extremely local, certain districts being quite free from its ravages. This probably accounts for the fact that cattle can often live where horses cannot, for cattle never wander very far, thus possibly not getting into the infected area, whereas horses naturally cover greater distances and would be more likely to pass through a tsetse fly zone.
CHAPTER III
Shooting in the grass-country — An unfortunate mishap — Doubtful pleasures of a journey — Sources of the Niger — A curious frontier rock — Bush fires — Bird-life.
IN the northern Konnoh country some good bushcow shooting is obtainable. In the grass-lands before mentioned these animals are wont to feed at night and during the early hours of the morning, and this is the best time to come up with them. When the sun gets hot they retire into the bush, where they remain till late in the afternoon. They are generally to be found near water, and appear to drink in the evening and early morning. I spent a couple of days after these fine beasts, but did not have as good sport as I should have had a month or two later, when the grass is burnt. Bushcow shooting is certainly one of the most exciting forms of sport with big game. This animal is probably one of the most dangerous to tackle. A wounded bushcow almost invariably charges, and is extremely vicious. In cover, such as long grass or bush, he is exceedingly dangerous. Indeed, it is very foolish to follow a wounded animal into such places. He will lurk under cover, with his head turned in the direction from which he expects his enemy, and charge when within ten yards or so. Many serious accidents have occurred to sportsmen of late years in this manner. Finding the grass still so high I did not linger long in this district, but pushed on for the Tembikunda Range and the sources of the Niger.
The following day I had an unfortunate mishap. It was early in the morning and I had stopped to have a little sport with some pigeon in a farm. My small caravan, with the exception of one carrier, had gone on. I was turning sharply to shoot a bird flying off to my right when I struck my leg against a stump of a tree. A sharp piece of wood about three inches long penetrated just under the knee-cap, causing me to fall down in agony. The stick was firmly wedged in the flesh so that the united efforts of my carrier and myself were unavailing to extract it. I accordingly despatched him at once to stop my caravan and summon my servant with my small medicine-case. After cutting the flesh I was able to withdraw the piece of wood, but my leg was now so swollen and painful that I found it impossible to walk. The sergeant of my escort and my “boy” managed to rig up a hammock by utilizing one of my blankets and a bamboo, and in this I was slung, feeling more like a sack of goods than a human being, and thus transported for the remainder of that day’s march. The next few days were anything but a pleasant experience. I developed bad blood-poisoning in the knee and was confined to my hammock. The road was extremely rough, sometimes leading up the side of a mountain, which was so steep as to appear like a veritable precipice. When going up these inclines, in my uncomfortable conveyance, my leg got jolted unmercifully and I suffered excruciating pain. I think the worst day was on the 15th of January.
Between the villages of Kondundu and Kundema there is a stretch of bush for about eight miles, which contains some of the thickest, most impenetrable cane-brake it has ever been my lot to encounter. The path I was following was evidently little frequented, and was some miles east of the usual trade route from the north to the south of the protectorate. Our road lay along a swampy valley, much overgrown with this stiff, unyielding reed. The native matchet, which is universally used for cutting bush, was quite useless against this stubborn fibrous stuff, and the only alternative was to force our way through it. Progress was very slow. The carriers in front of me with loads on their heads had the greatest difficulty in making a path for themselves, whereas my hammock-men had a far harder task in getting the unwieldy hammock through without upsetting me in the bush. I had to be carried by two men whilst the other two bearers hurled their weight against the reeds and made a path for us to follow.
On the 16th I arrived at a small village in the Tembikunda Range, about three miles from the spot where the Niger rises. Here I had a great disappointment; I was informed there was no path leading to the river source, and that the track lay over exceedingly rough, precipitous mountains. This information proved to be only too correct. I was quite unable to walk; and to carry a hammock up those rugged precipices was quite impossible. I therefore had reluctantly to give up any idea of seeing the actual source of the great Niger River. The river is said to rise in a big rock, which is also the source of four other rivers. These are the Feliko, which flows into the Niger in French Guinea, the Bagwe, and two smaller rivers. The Bagwe is one of the biggest rivers in Sierra Leone. The Niger here is known by the name of Tembiko, or Joliba. In the Susu language, much spoken on the upper reaches of the stream, the word Joliba means “He who can run faster than any other man.” There is a curious legend attached to the source of the Niger. The natives have a superstition that a devil lurks inside the rock where it rises. It is said that any man who is intrepid enough to approach the rock and gaze on it will be killed by this demon. In consequence of this sinister reputation it is the habit of the local savage to shun the neighbourhood of the source. By judicious bribery he can be induced to show a stranger the spot, but his manner of so doing is peculiar. He will, on nearing the rock, turn round and walk backwards towards it, at the same time covering his eyes with one hand, so as not to see the haunted place, while with the other hand he indicates the point where the river rises.
This rock forms one of the boundary marks on the Anglo-French frontier, separating Sierra Leone from French Guinea. The stone has inscribed on it, upon the western side, the fact that that portion is inside the British border, and the names of the members of the Boundary Delimitation Commission are here written. On the eastern side it is stated that that portion is in French territory, and the names of the Boundary Commission are also here similarly inscribed.
The Niger rises at a height of under 4000 feet, in a very wild, uninhabited country. The Tembikunda Range is exceedingly rocky and precipitous. It consists of a rugged, broken mass of peaks; in many cases hills are separated from each other by steep, narrow valleys or gullies.
The sides of these mountains are covered with thick, grassy bush. This grass grows to a height of twelve feet and more in the rainy season. When ascending a peak it is impossible to see the summit, not because it is so high, but merely because the vision is obstructed by this tall grass. Bush fires were just commencing when I passed through the country. It was a beautiful sight at night to see the huge flames working their way up the steep mountain-sides, just like fiery serpents as they coiled and twisted themselves around some piece of bush a little greener than the rest and able to resist them for a short moment. These fires are started by natives in order to clear the ground, by burning down the bush, so that they can plant their crops. When the Harmatan wind and the sun have dried the vegetation it burns with ease. A fire thus started rapidly spreads over many miles of country. It certainly does a considerable amount of harm by killing a number of beautiful trees every year; where trees are numerous and many are thus burnt to the ground, the tendency is naturally to decrease the rainfall of that district. On the other hand, it is argued that burning the bush fertilizes the soil through the medium of the ashes of the leaves and burnt vegetation. In any case it is a very old custom among West African natives and one which would be extremely hard to repress. The negro is naturally a lazy man, consequently this mode of clearing the bush peculiarly appeals to him since it demands so little effort on his part.