French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

I have forgotten old Abdul Dori, but he did not make a long stay on board. I have already mentioned that I suspected him of evil designs in taking service with us. He got me to advance him a pretty round sum on the voyage to Massina, which he said he owed to one of his countrymen, and desired to repay before he entered upon a venture so full of danger. As soon as the sly rogue had gained his end, he changed his tactics. From Sego, according to him, the voyage would be comparatively easy. His debt paid, he attempted to terrify my coolies, telling them the most ridiculous tales about the ferocity of the Tuaregs, and giving the most discouraging account of the rapids, which in the end we unfortunately found partly true.

He soon discovered he was wasting his time. My men came of their own accord, and reported that Abdul was trying to dishearten them. I soon made him understand I would not stand that kind of thing. Seeing the failure of these manœuvres, and in no way anxious to remain with us, he shammed sickness, pretending to be attacked with dysentery. The doctor soon discovered the trick, and I told him that, ill or well, he would have to follow me.

His plan having miscarried, he set about making himself really ill, and lay down to sleep without any covering on the chilliest nights. At this game, if he did not procure the dysentery of his dreams, he at least contracted inflammation of both lungs, which developed the very day of our departure. He remained two days longer with us; then really seriously ill, he became delirious. Moved with pity, I decided to send him back to Timbuktu in a canoe hired at the village of Burrem. I don’t know what became of him, but I advise those who may come across him hereafter, and are deceived by his honeyed words and ways, to beware of him. As far as we are concerned, I consider it a blessing that his cowardice overcame the desire for doing evil. He might have proved a great source of danger, especially at Say, his native place, where he would have aided and abetted our enemies.

The first and most important object of the expedition was to trace as correctly as possible the course of the river which we had to follow. For this purpose I had observing instruments of very accurate construction made for each barge, which would afford us the means of making a triangulation of the river en route. Two barges were to coast along the banks, while the third kept in the deep channel.

We tried this plan on January 23, the first day on which we navigated an almost unknown region. It was soon found impracticable. By evening we had gone less than four and a half miles. At this rate, counting necessary stoppages, it would take a year to reach the mouth of the river. We therefore adopted the following plan: the Davoust followed the left bank; the Aube the right one while on surveying duty, the two barges frequently taking their places.

At the same time, Baudry on the Dantec tacked about in search of the deep channel, taking frequent soundings. Any inaccuracies were guarded against by taking the mean draught of the two larger vessels, and constantly determining the position by astronomical observations.

This system was invariably followed down to Ansongo, that is, for the whole navigable course of the Niger. Though we did not secure the accuracy of a regular survey, still to me it appeared quite enough; for the first vessels that might come after us, will possess an indication of the position of the deep channel relatively to the banks and their configuration, the distances from one point to another, the position of the villages, and the peculiarities of the soil, etc.

Below Ansongo, in the region of the rapids, Baudry and I had to abandon all survey work, and devote our attention exclusively to the boats. Bluzet completed the map, which is of no practical value, as it is impossible to determine any navigable channel, especially for steamers, in those dangerous rapids. The only object of its existence is to prove that a navigable channel does not exist. So that all that can be done is to choose the least undesirable means of access to the Western Sudan from among the many that have been proposed.

After passing the villages of Koa, Burrem and Bori, where the people came out in canoes with presents of goats, sheep, eggs and poultry, we arrived abreast of Kagha, about one o’clock on the 25th. The moment we reached the mouth of the creek which leads to it—for the village is not on the main stream, but a little inland—we were hailed from a canoe by a great giant with an intelligent face and woolly hair, forming a halo round his head, which was more picturesque than clean. He was a Kunta, knew French, had been in the villages of Mediné and Nioro, in the French Sudan, and even spoke a little Soninké, the maternal language of most of our coolies.

He acted as pilot for us, but, in spite of all his efforts, we could not get up to Kagha, for there was not sufficient depth of water; so we had to pitch our camp at the foot of a little hill covered with dwarf palms rather more than a mile from the nearest huts.