Alone in West Africa

by Mary Gaunt

It was all hill-country through which we passed; range after range of hills, rich in cocoa and palm oil, while along the track, that we English called a road, might be seen rubber trees scored with knives, so that the milky rubber can be collected. Very little of this rich country is under cultivation, the vegetation is dense and close, and the vivid green is brightened here and there by scarlet poinsettas and flamboyant trees, then at the beginning of the rains one mass of flame-coloured blossom. It was a tangle of greenery, like some great, gorgeous greenhouse, and the native, when he wants a clearing, burns off a small portion and plants cocoa or cassada, yams, bananas, or maize, with enough cotton here and there, between the lines of food-stuffs, to give him yarn for his immediate needs. When the farmer has used up this land, he abandons it to the umbrella trees and other tropical weeds, and with the wastefulness of the native takes up another piece of land, burning and destroying, quite careless of the value of the trees that go to feed the fire. Such reckless destruction is not allowed by the Germans, but a few miles to the east. There a native is encouraged to take up a farm, but he must improve it year by year. Our thrifty neighbours will have no such waste within their borders.

In the course of the morning I arrived at Jakai, and the whole of the village turned out to interview me, and I in my turn took a photograph of as few as I could manage of the inhabitants under the principal tree. That was always the difficulty. When they grasped I was going to take a picture, and there was generally some much-travelled man ready to instruct the others, they all crowded together in one mass in front of the camera—if they did not object altogether, when they ran away—and I always had to wait, and perjure myself, and say the picture was taken long before it was done. But always they were kindly. If I grew afraid at night I always reminded myself of the uniform goodwill of the villages through which I passed; their evident desire that I should be pleased with my surroundings. And at Jakai Grant, with triumph, bought so many eggs that I trembled for my future meals. I foresaw a course of “fly” egg, hard-boiled egg, and egg and breadcrumbs, but after all that was better than tea and biscuits, and when I saw a pine-apple and a bunch of bananas I felt life was going to be endurable again.

At Pekki Blengo, an untidy, disorderly village, where the streets are full of holes and hillocks, strewn with litter and scarred with waterways, Mr Olympia met me, and conducted me to an empty chiefs house, where I might put up for the night. It was a twostoried house of mud, with plenty of air, for there were great holes where the doors and windows would have been, and I slept peacefully once more with the hum of human life all around me again. But I can hardly admire Pekki Blengo. It is like all these villages of the English Eastern Province. The houses are of mud, the roofs of thatch, and fowls, ducks, pigs, goats, and little happy, naked children alike swarm. That is one comfort so different from travelling in the older lands—these villagers are apparently happy enough. They are kindly and courteous, too, for though a white woman was evidently an extraordinary sight equal in interest to a circus clown, or even an elephant, and they rushed from all quarters to see her, they never pushed or crowded, and they cuffed the children if they seemed likely to worry her.

And beyond Pekki Blengo the road reached its worst. Mr Olympia warned me I should have to walk across the Eveto Range as no hammock-boys could possibly carry me, and I decided therefore that the walking had better be done very early in the morning, and arranged to start at half-past five, as soon as it was light.

The traveller is always allowed the privilege of arranging in Africa. If he does not he will certainly not progress at all, but at the same time it is surprising how seldom his well-arranged plans come off. True to promise my hammock-boys and carriers turned up some time a little before six in the morning, and the carriers, swarming up the verandah, turned over the loads, made a great many remarks that I was incapable of understanding, and one and all departed. Then the hammock-boys apparently urged me to get into the hammock and start, as they were in a hurry to be off and earn the four shillings they were to have for taking me to Ho in German territory. I pointed out, whether they understood I did not know, that I could not stir without my gear, and I went off to interview Mr Olympia, who was sweetly slumbering in his house about a mile away. He, when he was aroused, said they thought I was not giving them enough; that they said they would not carry loads to Ho for one shilling and sixpence and two shillings a load. I said that that was the sum he had fixed. I was perfectly willing to give more; and he set out to interview the Chief, and see if he could get fresh carriers, but he was not very hopeful about getting any that day. I retired to my chiefs house, grew tired of making mental notes of the people and the surrounding country, and got out a pack of cards and solaced myself with one-handed bridge, which may be educational, but is not very exciting. My hammock-boys again pleaded to be taken on, but I was firm. It was useless moving without my gear; and finally when I was about giving up hope Mr Olympia returned. He had found eight men and women who were bound across the Eveto Range to get loads at Tsito. Sixpence, he explained, was the ordinary charge for a load to Tsito, but if I would rise to say ninepence for my heavier loads—he hesitated as if such an enormous expenditure might not commend itself to my purse. But naturally I assented gladly, and off went my loads at sixpence and ninepence a head. For a moment I rejoiced, and as usual began to purr over my excellent management. Not for long though. It was my turn now, and where were my hammock-boys? Inquiry elicited the awful fact that they had gone to their farms and could not be prevailed upon to start till next day; Mr Olympia was sure I could not hope to move before to-morrow morning.

The situation was anything but comfortable. I had had nothing to eat since earliest dawn. I had now not even a chair to sit upon, nor a pack of cards to solace the dull hours. I dare not eat and, worse still, dare not drink. Then I sent word to Mr Olympia that if he would get me a couple of men to carry my hammock I would walk.

I sat on the steps of that house and waited, I walked down the road and waited, and the tropical day grew hotter and hotter, the sun poured down pitilessly, and I was weary with thirst, but still I would not drink the native water. At last, oh triumph, instead of two, eight grinning hammock-boys turned up, and about 1.30 on a blazing tropical afternoon we started. Ten minutes later I was set down at the foot of the unspeakable Eveto Range, and my men gave me to understand by signs they could carry me no longer.

I cannot think that the Eveto Range is perpendicular, but it seemed pretty nearly so. It was thickly wooded, as is all the country, and the road was the merest track between the walls of vegetation, a track that twisted and turned out of the way of the larger obstacles, the smaller ones we negotiated as best we might, holes, and roots, and rocks, and waterways, that made the distance doubly and trebly great. In five minutes I felt done; in ten it was brought home to me forcibly that I was an unutterable fool ever to attempt to travel in Africa. In addition to the roughness there was the steepness of the way to be taken into consideration, and the constant strain of going up, up compelled me again and again to lie down flat on my back to recover sufficient strength and breath to go on. What matter if the view was delightful—it was—when I had neither time, nor strength, nor energy to raise my eyes from the difficulties that beset my feet. But there was nothing to be done except to crawl painfully along with the tropical sun pouring pitilessly down, and not a breath of wind stirring.

And I was dead with thirst. We came across a bunch of bananas, laid beside the track, and my men offered me one by way of refreshment, but I was too done to eat, and I thought what a fool I was not to carry a flask. When I had given up all hope of surviving, and really didn't much care what became of me so long as I died quickly, we reached the top where were native farms with cotton bushes now in full bloom planted among the food-stuffs, and I rested a little and gathered together my energies for the descent. And if the going up was bad, the going down was worse. There were great rocks and boulders that I would never have dared in England, and when I could spare time from my own woes I reflected that the usual charge for taking a load to Tsito was sixpence, and decided between my own gasps it was the most iniquitous piece of slave-driving I had ever heard of. Twenty pounds, I felt, would never pay me for carrying myself across this awful country, and there were those wretched carriers toiling along for a miserable sixpence, or at most ninepence. I was thoroughly ashamed of myself. And the view was beautiful. Before us, in the evening light, lay the wealthy land where no white man goes, and the beautiful, verdure-clothed hills dappled with shadow and sunshine. The light was going, but, weary as I was, I had to stop and look, for never again might I see a more lovely view.

And at last, just as the darkness was falling, we had crossed the range, and I thankfully and wearily tumbled into my hammock and was carried through the village of Tsito to the trader's store. It was a humble store, presided over by a black man who spoke English, and here they bought cotton and cocoa, and sold kerosene and trade gin, cotton cloths, and the coarsest kinds of tinned fish. I had a letter from Mr Olympia to this black man, and he offered me the hospitality of the cocoa-store; that is to say, a space was cleared among the cocoa and cotton and other impedimenta, my bed and table and bath set up. Grant brought me something to eat—hard-boiled eggs, biscuits, and bananas, with tea to drink. How thankful I was for that tea! I dined with an admiring crowd looking on, and I remembered my repentance on the mountain and sent for my carriers and paid them all double. I still think it was too little, but in excuse it must be remembered that I was alone and hardly dared risk a reputation for immense wealth.