There are very few other ills that the West African stable is heir to, if ordinary care and supervision are given. It is worth mentioning that the mai-doki will ascribe everything that he cannot account for as the result of cold, from a mosquito bite up to a serious sprain, and ‘Sainye ya kamma shi!’ (‘he has caught cold’) will become a familiar sounding phrase, and will have to be politely but firmly discouraged.
CHAPTER VI
Camp Life
After a year spent in Nigeria, I am sure you will agree with me, on looking back, that the time spent ‘on tour’ was the happiest and most enjoyable of all. The life in the open air, the constant change and variety of scenery, the daily march that makes one so hungry at meal-times and so sleepy long before recognized bed-time, the incessant items of interest, among people, animals, birds, butterflies and plants—all combine to make one think it an ideal existence, and one where it is almost impossible to be cross, bored, or grumbly, in the clear sunlight, and amongst some of the loveliest surroundings imaginable. But this charming state of things is not to be reached all at once. To begin with, you must start with a firm determination to make the best of everything and anything: your unselfishness must be untiring and your cheerfulness infectious; your husband is certain to have a little leaven of difficult and possibly tiresome work mixed with his share of the picnic, so at these times, at least, the give and take of daily life may well be enhanced by lavish giving on your part. Here, no one can help you but yourself; but I can do something else for you, and that is, to supply you with a few hints, gathered from our own experience, which will make the camp arrangements run smoothly, and ensure your comfort in the remotest ‘bush.’ For it is not a sound argument to say, ‘If we get so hungry, we shan’t be particular what we eat’—it is just when one is famished that one wants a good, simple, well-cooked meal, not tough meat and eggs of doubtful freshness. Do not be discouraged at the start; it seems a colossal undertaking to calculate full provisions for some weeks, but it is really a simple matter after a little practice. At the end of this chapter you will find a list of stores necessary for the use of two people going to camp, and out of reach of European stores, for a month. The quantities are of necessity rather approximate, depending, as they must in some cases, on individual taste. Wherever you go, the villages can usually supply sheep, fowls, eggs, maize and yams, sweet potatoes and fruit and guinea-corn, and in many places there is excellent bush-fowl and guinea-fowl shooting to be had, thus adding the best of all dishes, game, to the larder.
Stores are carried in ‘chop-boxes,’ i.e. deal boxes, with hinged lids, hasps and padlocks, and with handles. For size, 18 in. × 10 in. × 8 in. is about right, for they must be considered as loads, and it is no use having them larger, as you will only have to leave them half empty, on account of the weight, and things will tumble about and bottles get broken. Even the size I have just mentioned cannot be packed full, but when one wants to carry fruit, or any light addition, the space comes in handy. We have found it useful, when bringing stores out from England (a proceeding much to be recommended to the economical housekeeper), to have a few of the cases made as described above, so as to have them ready for touring after their contents have been removed. Three should be enough, and one may usefully be devoted to rice alone, unless you are satisfied with and sure of being able to obtain the native sort: a 50 lb. bag of rice just fits in, and is invaluable, as fresh vegetables are almost impossible to come by. We have a fitted chop-box, made to our own design, containing a tray, and divers divisions, to accommodate china and glass. Below, there is one space which holds the plates and dishes, another that just fits two sparklet bottles, and a third which usually carries the day’s supply of bread or biscuits. The tray contains the teapot, four cups and saucers, milk-jug and sugar-basin (all china), and four tumblers, all in their own partitions; the cruet-stand has also a little corner to itself, where nothing ever upsets, and we are saved the eternal worry of unscrewing patent receptacles to get at the salt, etc. This leaves an empty space in the middle of the tray, where the small tins of tea, sugar, milk, tea-cloth, etc., live, the idea being that breakfast, luncheon, or tea, can be prepared at once, without touching the other chop-boxes, if so desired. Knives, forks and spoons all have their own separate spaces, a better arrangement than the usual leather straps in the lid. The divisions are lined with felt, so that china tea-things and glass tumblers (all of thickish material, of course), which, to my mind, are so infinitely preferable to ironware as to make ‘all the difference,’ can be carried in safety for many months, even allowing for unlikely accidents, such as a carrier slipping on a stone while fording a river, etc.
On coming out here, we had ordered a costly luncheon basket from England but, before it arrived we had done our first tour of some weeks’ duration with the chop-box I have just described, and instantly decided that we could not be bothered with the dainty, but much less serviceable little arrangement of wicker, etc., so we rifled it of its least complicated fittings, and wrote it down under the heading of ‘Experientia docet’ in the household accounts.
One of our Camps. ([p. 275])