Major Festing, who came in to dessert, invited us to go to him the next day. We cut but sorry figures beside our hosts in their unimpeachable costumes, for our clothes were torn by our struggles in the bush, our gold lace was tarnished, our breeches were patched, our boots had been bought in the country, and our helmets were terribly battered about.
I do not know which agent of the Company it was who refused to receive the leader of a French expedition because of his disreputable appearance, with untrimmed beard and clothes in rags. Times are greatly changed since then, or rather perhaps the instructions given have been modified.
The next day we had breakfast with Major Festing, and were most cordially received. Our host was then Commander-in-chief of the troops in the service of the Niger Company. Lokodja was his headquarters, and his soldiers, who were Haussas, were well lodged. Their cantonments are charming, and the Major’s house had every English comfort that could possibly be expected. Big airy rooms adorned with weapons, looking-glasses and hunting pictures, etc., native mats on the ground, flowers growing in the copper pots manufactured in the country. Everything very simple and suitable. Music was going on whilst we were at breakfast, as if we were on board an admiral’s flag-ship or at the Grand Hotel in Paris. Children played to us on the flute, regaling us with the familiar airs of the café-concerts of France. We had printed menus, dainty salt-cellars, caviare, whisky-and-soda, good stout, etc. Oh, what a delight it was to eat a well-served meal on a table-cloth decked with fresh flowers! If only we had had a few ladies in light summer costumes to share it with us, it would indeed have been complete.
Major Festing most courteously placed at our disposal as interpreter, a Haussa sergeant of his from the Senegal, who had been at one time in the service of Mizon, and also of De Brazza. He spoke a little French, and had been one of the last to leave the station of Yola. He told us of all his strange wanderings to and fro, and piloted us about the town when we went to make our purchases, for we did make some purchases at Lokodja. To begin with, we supplemented our stores of provisions, which was very necessary, if we wished suitably to return the hospitality we received. We had, moreover, very little of the dinner service left which we had brought from France three years before. We had, it will be remembered, sent to the bottom of the river everything not absolutely indispensable, and we wanted some claret and champagne-glasses badly.
The natives of Lokodja were very civilized, using table napkins, basins, dishes with covers, china flower-pots, etc., sold to them by the Company, or rather bartered for native productions, for there is no money currency in the Niger districts. The wages of the troops, labour, and raw material are all paid for in merchandise, such as salt, stuffs or ware of different kinds. The Company seem to make considerable profit on these transactions. As for us, we were rich enough to be generous. Suleyman, our interpreter, received orders to buy everything offered at the price asked, for we should only have to throw the things which were too heavy to take on, into the water later. So we gave silk drawers for a dozen eggs, and long strings of pearls, false ones of course, for three bananas.
The generosity of Commandant Mattei, agent of the old French Niger Company, whom we so clumsily allowed an English Company to supplant, has become proverbial, and the natives often quote it apropos of the stinginess of the Niger Company. I am very sure that our stay at Lokodja did nothing to lessen the fame of French liberality. The natives of the banks of the Niger still bemoan the loss of French traders and the hauling down of the French flag.
Lokodja, which we were able to visit, is a fairly large village, very picturesquely situated on a mountain. It is cut across by ravines and shaded by banana and papaw-trees, with numerous oil-palms. There is a splendid view of the meeting of the Benuë and the Niger. The remains of the steam-boat Sokkoto, which was wrecked on a rock, are still to be seen, and further down the river are other stranded boats.
We were told that Lokodja is the principal town of an extensive district numbering from twenty to thirty thousand inhabitants. The town properly so called, however, does not contain more than from four to five thousand at the very most. The market, which is very extensive, is much frequented, and is held in the afternoon. All manner of European articles are offered for sale in it. The only native industries are the beating of copper and the manufacture of rather peculiar drawers made of two pieces of stuff sewn together and adorned with a kind of open work. The blacksmiths, who are very skilful in a kind of repoussé work done with a pointed instrument on copper, make vases, cups, and ewers of it, which are really very original in design.
Most curious of all the specialities of Lokodja, however, are the games and the tam-tams held there. In the former, the performers are all young graceful girls who are perfectly nude. I have visited many towns of low morality. I know Naples, Port Saïd, and Colombo. I have seen the so-called flower-boats of China and the Japanese yoshivaras in that Orient where everything is possible, but never did I witness anything to be compared with what goes on at Lokodja.
The chief of the village is the well-known Abegga, and the name calls up for us French all manner of memories. Abegga is really almost a relation of mine, for he is a freed man who was bought at Sokoto, and given his liberty by my Uncle Barth. Abegga followed his master to England first and then to Germany. Back again in Africa, he entered the service of Commandant Mattei as interpreter, and to-day he is king of Lokodja. Such are the chances of life!