I have had orchids and ferns, all varieties of so-called crotons, for they are really codeums, hundreds of sturdy little orange trees, raised from pips collected at the luncheon table, cannas and caladiums, and tubs of the invaluable aromatic-scented occimum viride, whose virtues saved us endless annoyance from mosquitoes. Here a few English flowers blossomed, one tiny rose bush, petunias, balsams, Japanese sunflowers, etc., creepers of all kinds flourished, sky-blue, rose-coloured and yellow convolvuli climbing and clasping the verandah posts, sapphire blue clitoria twisting and twining in beautiful confusion, mingled with a brilliant scarlet convolvulus-like climber, while tiny, starry Ipomea quamoclit, crimson and white, wound slender feathery arms round every available twig and stem.
The bath-water must be kept every morning to water the verandah garden, the soapiness and especially the suspicion of Scrubbs ammonia, if that is used, are most beneficial, and by doing the watering yourself you can ensure a due proportion and see that ferns are not starved while seedlings are drowned.
I have always longed to have real roses in my verandah garden, but I fear they would but add one more to the long list of disappointments. Though they do well in Southern Nigeria, I have so far seen only one rose tree here at Zungeru; it was growing an immense height, full of green leaves and long stalks, an infallible sign that the general temperature is too high, and its blossoms have been few and poor. Still, I believe with much care and pruning the more delicate kinds might succeed; I hope to try one day. Last year I devoted my energies to the cultivation of geraniums and pelargoniums, which were only a partial success, but were handicapped by being carried about the country. I also experimented with tuberoses, which were an immense success, growing freely as if they really liked the soil and temperature. I have great hopes that the more delicate bulbous plants will flourish in Nigeria during the rains, therefore I have included a few of them in the list at the end of this chapter.
The Vegetable Garden
It seems to me a matter for the gravest regret that the culture of vegetables is not more seriously undertaken in this country where fresh vegetables are so essential to health, and such a priceless addition to the daily menu of tough and tasteless meat. To any one who has lived in the tiniest Indian station, and seen the Government garden supplying each household with an enormous basket of vegetables for the noble sum of 1s. 6d. per month, it seems as incredible as it is almost criminal that West Africa is not as well catered for; it could be done, as many private gardens in the country have amply proved, but—it is not done! To quote Major Ronald Ross:—‘Government sometimes maintains, at considerable cost, botanical gardens for various economical purposes. I was told that these gardens used to grow vegetables for the Europeans, until stopped by a mandate from England, on the ground that a Government botanist is not a market gardener!’ Comment is quite needless, but there is some comfort in reflecting that if we cannot all soar to the giddy eminence of a ‘Government botanist’ we may yet emulate, more or less, the humble market gardener, and to this end I am offering my small experience in this line.
Our Gardener at play. ([p. 250])
‘Jewel’ and ‘Brown Mouse.’ ([p. 258])
Growing vegetables is, to my mind, the most satisfactory part of garden work in West Africa; the percentage of failures is certainly smaller, and the results so entirely to be desired. But, like the rest of your garden, it will have to be made before you can set to work to grow vegetables. Divide the ground into beds as long as space will allow, and not more than three feet wide, with paths between. Every bed must have a roof or shelter, consisting of matting or palm branches, fastened to uprights four or five feet high, and the earth must be well banked up so as to be quite a foot above the ground level.