The Wanderings of an Elephant Hunter

by Walter Dalrymple Maitland Bell

As anticipated, the Lakkas became much more friendly after enjoying such mountains of meat, to say nothing of the riddance of the marauders from their gardens. They never became of very much use to us in the capacity of carriers, and always bolted to the bush when the subject was mentioned. Even when we offered lavish payment in trade goods for the carrying of our ivory from one village to another they invariably bolted. They could never quite trust our following, I think.

We hunted elephant for some time in this country. There were numerous bull herds scattered about, living chiefly upon native plantations, and we ridded the Lakkas of a fair number, although the nature of the country was against big bags. When the time came for us to return to Buba Rei to get our canoes we parted firm friends with the Lakkas. The return journey was accomplished without incident more alarming than a poor abortive attempt by some Lakkas to spear some of our following. No one was hurt, and we were overjoyed to receive news while on the return journey that our canoes had arrived. The short rains had begun, and we had some trouble crossing some of the rivers. We could now begin the real expedition, which had as its object the ascent of the practically unknown and quite unexplored Bahr Aouck.

On our arrival at Buba Rei for the second time we again visited the king to thank him for all he had done for us. This time relations were rather frigid. To begin with, the king remained lolling on his couch when he received us. He had, of course, heard all about our refusing to allow any “recruiting” of slaves to be carried out, and I daresay he was furious with us. He remained polite but cold, and we noticed a great falling off in the presents of food, etc., which are demanded by custom. Among other things we were distinctly annoyed to find that we were classed by the king as third-class white men. To Buba Gida there were three classes of European. In the first category were French governors, French administrators, and French military officers. For these sweet champagne was forthcoming, in quantities to suit the individual importance of the visitor. Class two comprised minor French officials, important American or English travellers, scientific expeditions, surveys, etc.; these got whisky, while ginger beer was reserved for elephant hunters, clerks, or small commercial people. We were Ginger Beerites.

In spite of this we calculated what we owed the king, and paid him by presenting him with three tusks. He seemed only tolerably pleased with these. It was with a feeling of relief that we departed from Buba Rei and its atmosphere of intrigue and cruelty.

XII
THE ASCENT OF THE BAHR AOUCK

It was from native sources that I first heard of the Bahr Aouck. While hunting elephant both to the north and south of its junction with the Shari River I had repeatedly heard of a large river. But I had noticed that whenever I tried to get a native to give definite information about this mysterious river he at once became very reserved. For some time I treated the existence of this river as being rather mythical, until I came across a vague reference to it in Kumm’s book on Africa. I made more enquiries both among white men and natives, and at last I came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to go and see. Some accounts said it existed, some that it existed for some distance, but then disappeared into the ground; some pooh-poohed its existence altogether, while others had it that no one could penetrate in face of the opposition that would be encountered. Another authority on the subject—he was military governor of the whole country in which the mysterious river was supposed to exist—held the view that all the remnants of the Khalifa’s die-hards and the riff-raff from all parts had a kind of last stronghold on this river, and that nothing short of a well-equipped military expedition could go through. Another account said there was no water during the dry season.

All these conflicting accounts proved to be wrong. There was enough water to float a river steamer at the height of the dry season. There were no die-hards or riff-raff of any sort—indeed, there were no inhabitants at all, for the very good reason that the whole country became inundated during the wet season. And as for its disappearance into the ground, all that we who ascended it can say is that it was not doing it while we were there. The outbreak of war prevented any attempt on my part to probe the mystery. Here I might as well confess that it was not so much a desire to probe the mystery as the hope of finding some good elephant country which decided me to attempt an ascent.

Obviously some kind of water craft would have to be employed. If there was a river there would probably be sufficient water to float a canoe. At the same time there would probably be shallows where even a native canoe would ground. Native canoes are very heavy to portage, therefore it seemed to me that Canadian canoes of the “freight” type were the only means of transport holding out any hope of proving successful. Hence, when the war was over, my friend W. and myself decided to try our luck. With this end in view we ordered two canoes from the Peterborough Canoe Company of Canada to be shipped direct to Africa from New York. One of these canoes was 18 ft. by 44 ins., and carried an enormous amount of stuff, while the other was smaller. Their construction was vertical strip covered with canvas. The big one weighed 150 lb. and could be carried by two men easily. I may say at once that these canoes were the greatest success. We had with us quick-repair outfits, and whenever a hole was knocked in them we patched it up in a few minutes. As regards propulsion, they proved to be by far the cheapest form of transport I have ever had, for one’s ordinary boys, cook, and gun-bearers could and did paddle and push them along against the current at a rate of twenty miles a day, and that without great fatigue, so easily do these delightful, graceful, fine-lined and efficient little craft slip through the water. Out of all our boys only one was what could be called a waterman; the others had no previous experience whatever of canoes or water.