French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

An envoy from Djermakoy now came to visit us. He had come, he told us, to buy a horse at Tenda to give to Serki Kebbi on behalf of his master, for in Africa if you want anything you must never go to ask it empty-handed. He was to try and persuade the chief of Argungu to help Djerma, especially Dentchendu, against the Toucouleurs. I gave him a black and white banner for Serki, with instructions to tell him to accede to the request of Djermakoy for the sake of the good relations he had formerly been on with Monteil, as well as in his own interests. He could not fail to understand that if the Toucouleurs got the better of Djerma, they would attack him at Kebbi directly afterwards.

Baudry tried to persuade me to leave him at Tenda. He was bent on preaching a crusade against the Toucouleurs, for we were all very bitter against that infamous tribe of robbers and traders in human flesh, who after laying waste the Sudan, had, under pretext of a holy war, brought desolation, famine, slavery, and death to the peaceful if somewhat degraded races of the Niger basin.

I myself shared the sentiments which actuated Baudry, and could I have been sure that when I got to the coast I should be allowed to return with a sufficient force to back up our friends of Dendi effectually, I am not at all sure but that I should have granted his request.

Unfortunately, however, I knew only too well that in such cases as this, it is no good counting on anything, so I very reluctantly said no to my brave comrade.

If, however, we had not been obliged to stop at Say, because the authorities pretended they were going to send us instructions from France; if we had been allowed to winter in Dendi, I can confidently assert that the state of things there would have been completely changed. But it is too late now, and regrets are unavailing. All we can hope is that our example may be a lesson to travellers who come after us.

At ten o’clock we left our moorings at Tenda, and went to anchor opposite a little Fulah village, situated on an island a short distance above Gagno. We hoped to get some milk here, for we had had none for several days. At first the Fulahs ran away and hid themselves in the bush, to return timidly later. A few presents reassured them, and they became too friendly, begging with horrible persistency. Our hope of getting milk too was doomed to disappointment, for one small calabash of it, already turned sour, was all the natives would sell us.

A terrible tornado from the south-east, accompanied by heavy rain, overtook us that night. The bank scarcely protected us, and the surging water of the river made our boats roll in a very unpleasant, even dangerous, manner, for the prows of the barges were banged against the shore. Since we left Say the weather had been very unsettled, and the nearer we approached the equator the worse it got. Until we reached the coast we must expect rain every day now, and the state of exhaustion, even of sickness, of our men can be imagined, soaked to the skin every night as they were, in spite of the tarpaulins we stretched from one deck to the other in the hope of sheltering them from the wet.

At eleven o’clock the next morning we arrived opposite Madecali, the second capital of Dendi, to which a little creek gives access, but some fifty-four yards up it our progress was arrested by shallows. Our guide went to the village, and soon returned with the news that the chief, Soulé by name, was coming. First came a canoe containing our envoy, then Soulé himself. A palaver of the usual kind ensued, but it did not seem likely to be as successful as usual in Dendi, for the attitude of the natives towards us was cold. There were some hundred warriors with Soulé all armed to the teeth, a proof that they did not feel very sure of our peaceable intentions. Truth to tell, there was nothing to be surprised at in the want of cordiality of the welcome we received. To take the bull by the horns, I myself confessed that I gave all the weapons I had left to the chief of Tenda, and explained the reasons for what I had done. Soulé replied that in so doing I had earned the gratitude of all Dendi, but for all that it was evident and very natural too, that he felt some little jealousy. Moreover, the people here did not hate the Toucouleurs, which was so much against us, for it was this hatred which had won us friendship at Tenda. As I have already said, Madecali had not suffered either directly or indirectly from their attacks, and it was with Burgu that its inhabitants were at war. Moreover, there was the memory of the Tombuttu affair, which took place a year before, and was thus related to me.

The people of Dendi had been very far from pleased at the Baud-Decœur expedition going to Say, and when our fellow-countrymen started to return to the coast, by way of the banks of the river, the general opinion was that they ought to be attacked. Fortunately the elders of the various communities were too prudent to sanction this, and their counsels succeeded in curbing the impatience of the hotheaded, but at Tombutu the chief had just died, and the young warriors, deprived of his advice when it was most needed, did fall upon the French, getting the worst of it.

Though Madecali had really had nothing to do with the skirmish its people were afraid of our vengeance, or at least of a demand from us for compensation, and the first question Soulé put to me was, “Are you the same Frenchmen as came here last year?”