French enterprise in Africa

by Hourst

On March 2 our enemies the Tademeket had all disappeared, but their place was taken by another tribe, the Tenger Eguedeche, with whom were a few Kel es Suk. A religious war had no doubt been proclaimed in the country, and it was to an accompaniment of shouts of La illa il Allah! that we pushed on. Every now and then all our escort performed a solemn salaam, prostrating themselves on the ground. We began to be very wrath, and I should have given the order to fire on the least provocation. Once more, however, an unforeseen circumstance calmed down my rising martial ardour. We were no longer followed by men only, but by numbers of women and children. Amongst them was a little chap as round as a barrel, who kept picking up handfuls of dust and flinging them in our direction. He shall be the first victim I resolved, but let’s have patience. A Kel es Suk, mounted on a big white camel, who headed the procession now, had never lost sight of us since we left Tosaye. He little knows to what a trifle he owes the preservation of his life. Twenty times the muzzle of my rifle covered him, and twenty times I reflected that we were not running any immediate danger, and that there would be nothing particularly brave in drawing the trigger on an unlucky wretch, who was probably merely ignorant.

Thus attended we arrived in due course at the village of Ha, on a little tributary of the Niger. We cast anchor, and tried to open negotiations; but the inhabitants fled from us like a swarm of grasshoppers. They shouted at us to go away, and when we asked for the chief of the village, they replied that he was with the Tuaregs. We waited an hour, in vain. The village was now entirely deserted, and no chief appeared. To make up for this, we heard the tabala or war-drum being beaten on every side, and a compact mass, consisting of from 500 to 600 warriors, took up their position opposite our anchorage, shouting louder even than the day before.

We thought we really had better try a little intimidation, for since the morning they had kept telling us that our guns and cannon would not go off, for Allah had forbidden them to. To show them therefore what our weapons were really capable of, I decided to send a shell over their heads at random, and we heard it burst far away in the distance. The band at once dispersed like a flight of sparrows, but their first terror over, they formed up again, and advanced with a courage which I could not but admire. There was nothing left to do, if we wished to avoid a real conflict, but to set sail, so we went and cast anchor a couple of miles further on, opposite Mount Tondibi, or the Black Mountain, as it is called in Songhay, though why I cannot say, as it really is of a beautiful orange-red.

The next day was a repetition of what this had been. The Tenger Eguedeche followed us, howling. We anchored for breakfast off the right bank, and they withdrew to a short distance, but continued to spy upon us, and yelled at us when we left.

At about two o’clock we suddenly saw coming along the bank from the opposite direction, a fine-looking, handsome Tuareg, riding a splendid black horse. His clean clothes and well-kept person showed that he was a chief. He advanced towards the crowd, who had halted when they caught sight of him, and said a few words, at which they all stopped shouting and squatted down. He then came towards us, made us what seemed a friendly sign with one hand, and leaning on his iron spear, the copper ornaments on which gleamed in the sunshine, he watched us pass by.

After this, not a word, not a cry was heard, and the right bank appeared perfectly deserted; only here and there behind some bush, the glitter of weapons revealed the presence of a concealed Tuareg sentinel watching our movements.

I learnt afterwards that the Tuareg on the fine horse was an envoy from Madidu, sent to the Tenger Eguedeche, to order them to cease from their hostile demonstrations. The Amenokal sent them word that he considered he was the only person who had a right to decide how strangers should be treated; and therefore, until he had made up his mind, no one was to show us either friendship or hatred.

We had some little difficulty in understanding our guide. The Songhay he spoke was so unlike that in use in Timbuktu. Towards evening he wanted us to go up a little creek on the left, at the end of which, with the aid of our glasses, we saw a number of camels grazing; but not knowing why so many animals were assembled here, for they are generally kept some little distance from the river, I thought it more prudent to anchor opposite the village of Forgo, on an island. We heard the tabala beating around us again. About eight o’clock a canoe approached, in which was the brother of the chief of the village, who hailed us. I did not at all like his reserved manner. He kept on talking about the tabala of Madidu, which, he said, could be heard when it was beaten all over the country from Burrum to Ansongo. He promised us some presents from his brother, but, needless to say, we never saw them.

We started very early the next morning, winding our way amongst the numerous islands dotting the river.

Presently on our left we saw some beautiful trees with bushy foliage, and all of a sudden from their midst arose a greyish mass of the shape of a truncated pyramid. There was not the slightest doubt that it was the tomb of the founder of the Songhay dynasty, Mohamed Askia, and that we were close to Garo or Gao; Garo, the ancient capital of the Western Sudan; Garo, the most powerful city ever founded by negro civilization, the metropolis from which radiated the various routes bringing to the Niger the produce of the Tchad districts and of Egypt; Garo, which but two Europeans, Mungo Park and Dr. Barth, had ever seen.