CHAPTER IV
The Harmatan — Native burial rites — Koranko superstitions — The Anglo-French frontier — Solitude of a Customs post — A change of scenery — Smuggling — A change of carriers — Intoxicating liquor — The Upper Niger — A splendid spectacle — A good highway — Native music.
IN the Tembikunda Mountains I found the variations of temperature between night and day extremely trying. The maximum by day never exceeded ninety degrees, but at night the temperature used sometimes to fall to under fifty degrees. The greatest height I reached was 2480 feet. The fall of temperature was evidently caused by the dry Harmatan wind which always blows at this time of year. This wind is said to come from the Sahara; it blows from the north-east for more or less long periods during the months of December, January, February, and March, all over the West Coast of Africa. The theory that it comes from the Sahara appears to be supported by the fact that it contains a quantity of fine particles of sand. Its extreme dryness is particularly noticeable in the otherwise damp coast atmosphere. Books and papers curl up, and the skin gets uncomfortably parched at this season. Natives are especially susceptible to chills and pneumonia while the Harmatan is blowing.
In spite of sleeping in a native hut, a place not usually remarkable for its coolness, I used to shiver under my three blankets. Finally, the only way I could keep sufficiently warm to get to sleep was by lighting a huge log fire close to my bedside before retiring to rest. Of course, the cold was not really so intense, as the thermometer was several degrees above freezing; but the sudden fall in temperature between night and day had the unpleasant effect of making it appear like midwinter in England.
A curious fact about the Harmatan is that, owing to the sand carried by it in suspension in the air, a kind of haze is produced which considerably restricts one’s range of vision. The effect is very similar to that caused by a London fog. Indeed, when watching the sunset while a strong Harmatan was blowing, I could easily imagine myself gazing at that peculiar appearance seen in the sky on a foggy winter’s afternoon in Town. At times this curious wind blows with great violence. This is particularly the case in the early morning, when even on the march a thick overcoat can be worn without feeling in the least degree too hot.
The country in which I now was is inhabited by the Korankos. Their territory is a large one, extending for a considerable distance north and west of the Niger watershed, while a small portion of the tribe overflows eastward into French Guinea. The whole country is very mountainous, and the people are extremely poor. Most of them are pagans. These Korankos suffered considerably during the wars of Samory, when many of them were exterminated by his Sofas. The principal town is Kruto, lying about forty miles due west of the Niger source, and a trading centre of some importance. At the small village of Manson I arrived on the day of the burial of a chief’s son. The ceremony which takes place on such an occasion is somewhat remarkable, and it was my good fortune to witness it here.
The whole burial rites take three or four days, the body not being taken to the grave till the last day, by which time, as can be imagined, it is in an unsavoury state of decomposition, and not fit to be approached by a white man.
Immediately a death occurs the womenfolk start lamenting; in the meantime messengers are despatched to all the slaves and relatives in the other villages. As this takes some days, the body is kept in the house till they have all arrived. In the case of a Poro man, his body is deposited in the “Poro” Bush. No woman is permitted to look on the corpse. Dancing, singing, and tomtoming are vigorously kept up the whole time. The women take a leading part in this portion of the ceremony. A woman’s body is taken to the “Bundu” Bush until the day of burial.
On the burial day all the mourners plaster themselves with white clay and follow the corpse to the burial-ground. Country cloths are buried with the deceased, the number varying directly with his personal wealth. The favourite hour for the interment is sunset. After the burial guns are fired by anyone possessing a fire-arm, with the intention of frightening away all evil spirits; at the same time a sacrifice is made on the grave of a fowl, a sheep, or a cow, according to the wealth of the dead man. These sacrifices are also offered for the purpose of propitiating the dead man’s ancestors, who, tradition says, are otherwise in the habit of torturing his soul.
Directly after the burial the deceased’s property is taken possession of by the heir, who then invites his friends to a feast, on the principle, I suppose, of “Le roi est mort, vive le roi.” At a burial or a marriage the one aim of the native seems to be to spend as much money as possible.