French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

However that may be, the Talibia devils, as were those of Wuro and Geba later, were propitious to us. All these spirits, whether of Kolikoro, of Debo, or of Pontoise, are really cousins-german. Ours were the spirits of the Niger, and the negroes explained our immunity from their attacks by saying, “They can do nothing against an expedition, the leader of which is the friend of Somanguru, the great demon of Kolikoro, and who knows the river at its source, where it comes out of the earth, where no one else has ever seen it.”

I imagine that since our departure the natives of Talibia have still avoided the island. Our residence on it was not enough to rehabilitate it, and probably now many rumours are current about the spirit which haunts the ruins of our camp.

It was really a great thing to be on an island. We were safe there from hyænas at least, and all we had to do was to put our camp in a state of defence against the Toucouleurs and their friends.

The first fortification we put up was a moral one, for we baptized our camp Fort Archinard, in token of our gratitude to the Colonel of that name, and it was worth many an abattis. The name of Archinard was in fact a kind of double fetich, for it gave confidence to our own men, and it inspired the Toucouleurs with superstitious terror. In the French Sudan there is not a marabout, a soldier, or a sofa of Samory, not a talibé of Amadu, not a friend nor an enemy of the French who does not retain deeply graven upon his memory the name of Colonel Archinard, for the present General will always be the Colonel in Africa, the great Colonel whom, according to tradition, no village ever resisted for a whole day.

So we managed that the news of the baptism of our Camp should be spread far and near, and passed on from mouth to mouth till it reached the ear of Amadu himself. No doubt he had some bad dreams in consequence.

This moral defence, however, required to be supplemented by a material one. Two hundred and twenty by forty-three yards is not a very wide area for thirty-five people to live in, but it is far too big a space to have to defend efficiently.

We felt it would be prudent to restrict the camp, properly so called, to the northern point of the island, and taking six termitaries as points of support, we placed abattis between them. Everything was ready to our hands, branches, logs, brushwood, thorns, etc. We cut down the trees at the lower end of the island, which cleared our firing range, though it also rather spoiled the look of the landscape. We levelled the site of our camp, razed many of the ant-hills to the ground, and mounted our two guns, one pointing up-stream, on a huge trunk which seemed to have been placed where it was on purpose, which commanded the bank almost as far as Say itself, whilst the other was placed on a big trunk which we drove firmly into the ground, and would keep the people on the banks down-stream in awe. At each gun sentries were always on guard. Then the unfortunate Aube was unloaded, patched up somehow, provided with sixteen oars, and armed with the machine-gun belonging to the Davoust, all ready to advance to the attack or the defence whether to Say or to Dunga.

In a word, the urgent preliminary work was rapidly accomplished in a very few days, and then in comparative security we began building what the natives call the tata, that is to say, an earthwork such as surrounds sedentary villages, or a fortified redoubt serving as the residence of a chief.

Even if you had not been brought up a mason, you would very soon become one in the Sudan; at least you will learn to build as the negroes do. There are neither stones, lime, nor sand, nothing but water and more or less argillaceous soil. With that you must make bricks, mortar, and the mixture for graining, if graining you mean to have. The clay is kneaded with the feet, and when it is ready, what are called tufas are made of it, that is to say, flat or cylindrical bricks, which the mason or baré places horizontally between two layers of mortar. The baré sits astride on the wall he is building and chants the same tune over and over again, whilst his assistants silently pass up the tufas to him. I have noticed that all over the world masons and tile-makers are as light-hearted as birds.

Our best mason in this case was a big Sarracolais named Samba Demba, who generally acted as groom to our bicycle Suzanne. When he was at work on the wall it grew apace, and we too grew gay as we saw it rise, for with it increased our sense of security.