THROUGH UNKNOWN NIGERIA
CHAPTER I
OUTWARD BOUND
Call of the Coast—Mal-de-mer—Coasters afloat—From 78° to 90°—The Kru sailor—His civilised degeneration—Laundryman’s discipline—A dangerous stretch—The skipper—From ship to train.
What induces that mysterious, elusive “call to the Coast” to which few who have been to West Africa remain unresponsive? None deny its existence, even those who remain unaffected. Yet no conclusive answer has been given for a strange, fascinating attraction to revisit a part of the world which is regarded as uninviting. The “call” cannot be one of mere novelty, for it is only men and women who have lived in West Africa—perhaps suffered there—who are impelled to return, in spite of its drawbacks and talked-of risks, some real, some unduly and unnecessarily magnified.
Whether I felt the “call” strongly, overpoweringly, or merely preferred the country as a change to England has been tested. Not long ago my Editor enquired was I willing for a journey to Egypt, with its splendid climate and the charm of looking on the land of Bible stories; he asked whether I cared for a trip through East Africa, with the delightful flora and fauna of a new colony. Neither attracted me. The mention of each created no eagerness. But when, one Wednesday afternoon, he called me into his room and spoke of West Africa I was all agog.
“You will be there in the rainy season,” he warned.
“I know, though I should prefer another period of the year; but do not ask anybody else if you wish me to go.”
“All right. When would you be ready to start?”
“From London next Tuesday if you urgently desire, but I should like a little longer, to fulfil a special engagement.”
The conversation took place at 2.30 p.m. By 5.30 the following afternoon everything had been settled.