of elephants took us into Buba Gida’s country. To reach this country we
traversed some very rich cattle districts inhabited by Fulani, a tribe
akin to the Somals. At Buba Gida’s boundary we were met by some forty or
fifty of his smaller fry, for it must be understood that we were simple
elephant hunters and not “big” white men. Everything about us was known
to Buba Gida days before our arrival at his boundary by his wonderful
system of intelligence. We remembered noticing casual horsemen about our
caravan; they were Buba Gida’s intelligence. From the boundary to the
king’s town was six days’ march, and the headman of every village we
slept at was under orders to escort us to Buba Rei. As each headman in
turn was escorted by five or six men, all being mounted, it will be seen
that we formed quite a little army by the time we got to the capital. Had
we been “big” white men, doubtless we should have been several hundred
strong by that time. At the end of the sixth day we were camped within
sight of the mysterious city. And mysterious it certainly is, for,
surrounded as it is by well-known, if somewhat distant countries, and
within 120 miles of a large Government post, nothing is known of this
curious mediæval city or its despotic tyrant, Buba Gida; and yet every
white man wishes to know more about it. Countless thousands of questions
must have been asked about Buba Gida. He even visits the Government
station Garua; and sufficiently foolish to us he appears when he does so,
for he goes with thousands of followers, women and men. Special beds and
tents are carried with all kinds of paraphernalia; in fact, anything for
show. He even must buy the whole contents of the stores he honours with a
visit, much of them quite useless to him.
It was not clear to us why we had to camp so near the city, so we asked
why we did not proceed. The answer was that the king had ordered us to
sleep at that spot. There are few remaining places in Africa where a
white man’s actions are governed by a black man’s wishes. Abyssinia under
Menelik was one. Liberia and Buba Rei are still among them.
On the following morning we all sallied forth in our very best paint. As
all the riding horses are stallions and some of them alarmingly vicious,
and all of them ready at any time to bite, kick, strike, rear and prance,
and, indeed, taught to do so, it is easy to imagine the scene as we drew
near the capital. Right in the thick of it, in the middle of the prancing
_mêlée_, on a very high rakish-looking stallion over which he appeared to
have no control, was a gentleman with a very white and anxious face. He
seemed to be somewhat insecurely seated on a flat saddle and appeared to
be trying to do something to his horse by means of a snaffle. I know all
this because I was he. My companion looked much more at ease, but I must
confess I felt thoroughly alarmed lest I should fall off and disgrace the
whole show. This will be better understood when I explain that all the
riders except ourselves were in saddles with great high horns in front
and high canties behind. Most of them clung openly to the horns; and
besides this, their mounts were bitted Arab fashion, with great spades
and a ring round the lower jaw, so that they really had control over
their beasts.
[Illustration: COMMANDERS OF REGIMENTS.]
[Illustration: CHIEFS IN ARMOUR WITH ARROW-PROOF QUILTS.]
Luckily, I did not fall off, and presently we halted about a mile from
one of the great gates in the wall which surrounds the town. We were
told we should have to wait here until the king gave the order to enter.
After waiting about two hours—done chiefly to impress the people with the
greatness of the king, to see whom even the white men had to wait—a mob
of mounted men about two hundred strong was seen to come forth from the
city gate and to approach. We now hastily mounted, and I remember having
more trouble with my infernal beast. The two opposing bodies of horsemen
now began to approach one another until there remained perhaps forty
yards separating us. Some very impressive speeches were made. Luckily for
us, the king had lent us a speech-maker, and he held up our end in a very
creditable manner, judging by the amount of talking he did. I thought
it would never end, my horse becoming more and more restive. Every time
he squealed and bit one of the neighbouring horses the whole mob began
playing up. I was awfully afraid he might take charge and go barging in
among the knights, for such they were. Genuine knights—if not in armour,
at any rate all clothed in arrow-proof quilted cloth—horses and all. On
their heads the knights had bright native iron caskets. They carried long
bamboo spears with iron heads. At their sides were Arab swords. Beneath
the bright little caskets were faces of such revolting ugliness and
ferocity as to be almost ludicrous. We had the speeches of the opposition
translated to us, and the gist of them was to the effect that we were
about to have the honour of entering the town of the greatest king on
earth—a king who was, if not immortal, next door to it, and so on. Then
we were requested to count the knights. Before we had time to count more
than twenty or so we were told that they numbered 500. An obvious lie;
200 at the outside. Then we were told that each of these knights had
under him 500 other knights, armed and mounted as he was. After that our
attention was drawn to a foot rabble in leopard skins and large quivers
full of arrows. I had failed to notice these before owing to anxiety
about my steed’s capers. They looked a pretty nasty crowd. Never have I
seen so many hideous men together.
After the speeches we proceeded slowly towards the gates, gallopers
continuously going off to report progress to the king. The wall totally
encloses the town, and the gates are wide enough to allow of six men
riding abreast. The wall itself is perhaps 20 ft. high and made of
sun-baked mud. The thickness at the gateway is about 50 ft., but this is
chiefly to impress the visitor and to shelter the guard. The rest of the
wall is no more than perhaps 6 ft. at the base.
The buildings in the town are simply the ordinary grass and
mud-and-wattle huts of that part of Africa, any more pretentious style
of architecture not being allowed. Even pretentious or costly clothing,
ornaments or style of any sort are forbidden. Music is forbidden. The
drinking of intoxicants within the town is punishable by death. Outside
it is allowed. No child must cry, none may laugh loudly or sing or shout.
Noises of any sort are forbidden in this dismal city. The filth is
indescribable. The obvious healthiness of its dwellers may be due to the
fact that Buba Gida has every one of them out of it hard at work in his
immense plantations every day and all day long, and also perhaps to the
fact that everyone is well nourished. Where all belongs to the king who
but he can make a ring in corn! Who but he can raise the cost of living!
The only approach to a grumble that we heard from his people was the wish
that they might own their own children.
Near about the centre of the town a great high inner wall became visible.
This, we were informed, surrounded the king and his palaces. Few townsmen
had ever been inside, and the king seldom comes out. Under this wall
our quarters were situated, two unpretentious grass huts. In front of
our huts, besides our usual ration, there were mountains of prepared
foods. The things for us two white men would have fed thirty. With the
food came a taster. That is a man who, by tasting everything before
you, thereby guarantees it free from poison. This is the usual thing in
Africa. Generally the chief of the village does it. Everything was most
comfortable, and we began to think highly of our chances of coming to
some arrangement with the king about elephant hunting. We were left alone
for about two hours.
When the time came for our audience we were led through streets partly
round the wall, and it became evident that the inner wall encircled an
enormous area. It was from 40 ft. to 50 ft. high, and enormously thick at
the base and in very good repair. Arrived at the gate itself, we got some
idea of the immense thickness of the walls, the opening in them forming
a high and very long guard-room, with huge doors of black timber at each
end. This guard-room was filled with men—soldiers I suppose they were.
[Illustration: AN ENORMOUS MAN, FULLY SEVEN FEET HIGH, ROSE FROM A PILE
OF RAGS AND EXTENDED HIS RIGHT HAND, SWINGING A STRING OF HUGE AMBER
BEADS IN THE OTHER.]
[Illustration: WHENEVER THE KING SNEEZES, COUGHS OR SPITS THE ATTENDANT
SLAVES BREAK INTO LOUD WAILING.]
Arrived at the inner doors we were halted. Our guide entered alone. After
some twenty minutes’ waiting—again done to impress, I suppose—a slave
appeared at the door and beckoned us in. He talked in a whisper and was
almost nude. We entered and the great doors were closed behind us. Now we
were in a courtyard with more huge doors in front of us. Another wait,
but shorter. Presently appears our guide. Up till now he had seemed to
us to be rather an important fellow. He had been decently dressed, at
all events. But now here he was as nude as the other slaves. Another of
the rules of this strange court. Everyone, barring white men, but not
excepting the king’s own sons, must approach the Presence almost nude,
_and on all fours_. They must never look at the king’s face, but must
keep their foreheads to the ground. And you can bet these rules are
strictly observed. Even our man—who must be in and out continually—was
several shades more ashen than when outside. Our interpreter then
stripped himself, and a very trembly wretch he looked. At last all was
ready for our entry to the Presence. We passed through the door into
a large and spotlessly clean courtyard. Along one side ran what was
evidently the reception house, a lofty building beautifully thatched,
with a low verandah. Lolling on a pile of cushions on the floor of the
verandah was a huge and very black negro. We walked quickly towards him,
passing two nude slaves with their heads glued to the ground, while our
interpreter and the functionary crawled on all fours behind us.
This at last was Buba Gida, and a very impressive creature he looked. As
we drew near he got up. A fine specimen indeed, 7 ft. high if an inch,
and wide in proportion. Soft, of course, but otherwise in fine condition.
He extended a hand like a bath sponge for size and almost as flabby,
swinging a string of enormous amber beads in the other. Having shaken
hands white-man fashion, he waved us to two European chairs while he
subsided on his cushions and commenced to stoke up a small charcoal fire,
throwing incense on to it. Silence had the stage for some moments and
then the king sneezed. At once there was a wail from the two bowed slaves
in the middle of the courtyard. This was instantly taken up and drowned
by a chorus of wails from the precincts. Whenever, throughout all our
interviews, the king thought we were approaching the familiar or asking
awkward questions, he would sneeze or cough or spit, or even clear his
throat, and there would follow this uproar from his wailing chorus.
The first question he asked was about our rifles. He was very anxious to
buy them. We were overjoyed to hear that he would be pleased to help us
to a good elephant country, at the same time mentioning the fact that he
was very fond of ivory.
Presently the conversation drifted to fever. And here we were astounded
to find that he really appeared to believe that he was immortal. He
naïvely told us he was a great friend of God’s, and that sickness of
any sort never touched him. After many polite speeches on both sides we
departed from our first visit to this remarkable man.
XI
BUBA GIDA AND THE LAKKAS
After the usual interminable delays inseparable from dealings with
African potentates, we were at last ready for the trek to our hunting
grounds. Report had it that these lay fifteen days’ march to the south.
The king had been most generous. He lavished upon us food, carriers,
guides, horses and even milk-cows to accompany us. He sent with us his
most renowned elephant hunters, from whom I tried to get information
regarding the country we were going to. The tales of countless numbers
of immense elephant told us by Buba Gida himself we frankly disbelieved,
as he had shown us forest tusks from his ivory store as having come from
the Lakka country, which we knew lay well to the east of the great forest
belt. There is no mistaking the difference between forest ivory and that
from grass or scrub bush country, and, from all accounts, the Lakka
country was of the latter description.
For some twelve days or so we followed narrow winding native trails
through good but almost totally deserted country. Only on two occasions
did we camp by human habitations, and these were merely outposts of
Buba Gida’s. The contrast between this well watered and healthy but
uninhabited country and the miles of plantations and teeming thousands of
the immediate vicinity of Buba Rei was most striking. Enquiry elicited
the fact that all the former inhabitants of these rolling plains had
been “gathered in” by Buba Gida, and that he was surrounded similarly on
all sides by broad uninhabited belts. Game was wild and scarce. Giraffe,
haartebeeste and oribi we saw in the flesh, while pig and buffalo tracks
were infrequently met. Lion we heard once only. Buba’s hunters told us
that at one time elephant were numerous all over this country. One of
them showed us where he had killed his last one. I asked him what reward
he had got from the king. He told me that the tusks were only so high,
indicating a length of about 3 ft., which would correspond to a weight
of perhaps 20 lbs. or 25 lbs. Continuing he said what other king would
have given him so much as Baba (_i.e._, Father), for, in spite of the
smallness of the tusks, Baba had given him another woman, making his
fourth, and had filled his hut with corn sufficient to keep him drunk
on beer for two months. Few indeed are the Sovereigns who could have
rewarded their gamekeeper in such a fashion. This man was firmly loyal
to his king, and it may be of interest to enquire into this loyalty to a
cruel and despotic tyrant, for it was shared by all of his subjects, as
far as we could see.
Now, in this kingdom everyone and everything belongs to the king. He
farms out his female slaves to all and sundry as rewards for meritorious
services rendered the king. All children born as a result of these
operations belong to the king, just as the parents do. It must be
remembered that this is “domestic” slavery and not at all the horrible
affair commercial slavery once was. There is no export of slaves, as
the coming of the white man has prevented it. Domestic slavery entails
upon the master certain duties towards the slave. Should the slave
work well and faithfully for the master, the latter is bound to find
for him a wife. The slave may, should he choose, become a freeman
after sufficiently long and good service. At any time, should he
possess sufficient intelligence to embrace the Mohammedan religion, he
automatically becomes a freeman, for it is forbidden to enslave one of
the Faith, and Buba Gida himself was a Mohammedan. To my mind the only
explanation of the undoubted devotion shown by slaves to their masters
is—women.
[Illustration: IN BUBA REI.]
[Illustration: A FOOT SOLDIER.]
To the African a wife is everything. It is equivalent in Western life to
having a living pension bestowed on you. For your wife builds your house,
provides wood and water, grows your food, makes the cooking utensils,
mats, beds, etc., not only for your use, but also for sale. _You_ sell
them and pocket the proceeds. Not only this, for she brews beer from the
corn which she grows, and _you_ drink it. She drinks it and likes it,
too, but naturally, you see that she does not overdo it. Then, again, she
bears you children, who also work for you, and you sell the females. It
really amounts to selling, although it is very bad manners to speak of
the transaction as such. Marriage they call it, and dowry they call the
price paid. Here again you are the lucky recipient of this dowry, and not
the girl. True, you have to provide your daughter with certain things,
such as a few mats, cloths, cooking pots, etc., most of which your wife
makes. From all this it will be seen what very desirable creatures women
are in Africa. There, as elsewhere, will be found bad wives, but where
we have to grin and bear them, or divorce them, or be divorced by them,
the African can send his back to her father and demand her sister in
her place. This procedure is only resorted to in the case of a wife
failing to bear children; any other fault, such as flirting, nagging,
quarrelling, impudence, neglect or laziness, being cured at home by means
best known to themselves. It is not so surprising, after all, that a man
will work for the better part of his life to serve a master who will, in
the course of time, bestow upon him that priceless possession—a wife.
So far our attempts to gain the confidence of our escort had always been
met with great reserve on their part. In the evenings round the camp
fire is where the African usually unburdens himself, but our lot had
evidently been warned not to open their mouths to the white men. These
orders they very faithfully obeyed until we approached the boundaries
of what might be called Buba Gida’s sphere of influence. Gradually they
became less secretive, and we began to hear of strange doings. In a
moment of excitement, brought on by the death of a fine buck, one of the
old elephant hunters disclosed to me that the king’s people were in the
habit of raiding slaves from the Lakka country. As we would enter this
country in another day or two’s march for the peaceful purpose of hunting
elephants, and as I hoped for the usual and invaluable help from the
natives, this news was rather disconcerting, accompanied as we were by
fifty or sixty slavers. In reply to the question, What will the natives
do when they see us? came the cheering reply, Run like hell!
Where elephant frequent settled country, and especially where they are
in the habit of visiting plantations, it is essential for the hunter to
be on the most friendly terms with the natives. He must at all costs
avoid frightening them. The natural suspicion with which all strangers
are regarded must somehow be allayed. Generally speaking, the hunter’s
reputation precedes him from country to country, and, if that reputation
be a good one, he is welcomed and helped. Only when tribes are at serious
war with each other is there a break in this system of intelligence.
On entering the Lakkas’ country, therefore, we were severely handicapped,
firstly, by not having previously visited either it or its neighbours,
and, secondly by having as our safari a villainous band of slave-raiders,
already well known as such to the Lakkas. I anticipated trouble, not so
much from the natives as from our own band of thieves. I could see that
it would be necessary to take the first opportunity of impressing upon
the king’s people in as forcible a manner as possible that we white men
were running the show and not they.
To my astonishment, on arriving at the first Lakka village we _and our
raiders_ were received in quite a friendly way. On enquiring into this,
I found that this section of the Lakkas admitted allegiance to Buba Gida
and were at war with the section further on, where we hoped to meet with
elephant. Hence our welcome.
A chance to assert ourselves occurred on the first day of our arrival
among the Lakkas, for no sooner had the camp been fixed up than our
merry band had a Lakka youth caught and bound and heavily guarded. On
enquiring into this affair it transpired that this youth had been taken
in a previous raid, but had escaped and returned to his country. We had
the lad straight away before us, asked him if he wished to go back to
Buba Gida, and, on his saying that this was the last thing he desired,
at once liberated him. He did not wait to see what else might happen; he
bolted. Of course, the king’s people were furious with us. We, on our
part, were thoroughly disgusted with Buba Gida for having designed to
carry on his dirty work under the cloak of respectability afforded by the
presence of two Englishmen on a shooting trip. We had all of them before
us, and explained that the very first time we found any one of them
attempting anything in the slaving line we would tie him up and march
him straight to the nearest military post. We let them see that we were
thoroughly determined to take complete command of the expedition from now
on, and had little further trouble from them. Later on, it is true, we
were annoyed to find that small native boys attached themselves as camp
followers to our safari. They rather embarrassed us by saying that they
wished to go with us, but they quickly disappeared when their probable
future was explained to them. I reckon that we must have spoiled Buba
Gida’s scheme to the extent of at least a round dozen of valuable slaves.
After all our trekking and the fussing with semi-civilised Africans,
it was a great relief to find ourselves one day at the entrance to a
village of the real genuine wild man. We had been passing through No
Man’s Land—as we may call the neutral zone between tribes at war—for the
last few hours. As the grass was high at this season we had not been
spotted, and our arrival at the village was a complete surprise. Amid
terrific excitement women and children rushed for the bush, fowls raced
about, dogs barked, while the young men appeared from the huts with their
shields and spears, and faces dangerously scared. This is the moment of
all others when anything but a perfectly tranquil outward appearance
generally precipitates a tragedy. Either a native bloods his spear or
arrow in the body of one of the visitors or some strung-up visitor fires
his gun, when the situation gets out of hand at once. At these tense
moments the appearance of a perfectly cool white man, for preference
unarmed, acts in a most extraordinary manner. But duck or dodge, or get
close to cover, or put up your rifle, and the thing is spoiled. There
is no finer instance of this than when Boyd-Alexander went to visit
the Sudan chief who had sworn to do him in. Without rifle or escort
Boyd-Alexander voluntarily strolled up to this man’s stronghold, knowing,
as he must have done, having been warned by the Sudan authorities, that
his only chance was to appear perfectly unafraid, or to avoid the country
altogether. He visited the chief and, in due course, left the village,
closely followed by him. In full view of the inhabitants of his village
it was certainly “up to” the chief to show his hand, and I am convinced
that he was on the very point of murdering Boyd-Alexander when he turned
a perfectly unmoved face upon the chief and fixed him with a steady look.
The chief slunk back to his village, while Boyd-Alexander pursued his
way. From those who can read between the lines his description in “From
the Niger to the Nile” of this little incident is an epic.
[Illustration: LAKKAS, SHY AND NERVOUS.]
[Illustration: BUBA GIDA’S ELEPHANT HUNTERS.]
On the occasion of our first introduction to the Lakkas luckily nothing
serious happened. After a few seconds of very nervous demonstrating with
spears and shields, our friends-to-be rushed off in a panic, one fat
youth getting a spear crossed between his legs and falling flat. As we
required a guide, and as our only chance of getting one was to seize
him, we secured him before he had quite recovered. He at once showed his
sense by yielding quietly, although he must have been in an awful funk.
This lad eventually became our voluntary guide and introducer, but for
the moment we were compelled to hold him prisoner. Keeping a sharp eye
on our ruffians to see that they took nothing from the huts, we passed
through and finally reached the village of a man who was supposed to be
the best able to show us elephant. The village, of course, was deserted,
so we pitched camp bang in the centre of it. We also got our captive to
shout to his friends that all was well, that we were friends and had come
to hunt elephant only. This latter statement required some believing,
judging by the time it took to get any answer to our overtures—which
was not surprising, accompanied as we were by notorious slavers. But at
last an old woman came, nosed about a bit, and left again, returning
presently with the man we wanted. I have often admired the infinite
capacity of the African to take things as they come with composure, but
never more so than on this occasion. Here was his village in the hands
of his enemies, added to this the complication and anxiety caused by
the presence in their midst of two white men. So far, his dealings with
white men had been anything but pleasant—a German military expedition
had passed through. Yet here he was, ready for anything that might turn
up, unarmed and with a face of brass—for a day or so willing to please,
but, above all, willing to speed the parting guest. Elephants? Rather!
Hundreds of them, all round So-and-So’s village fifteen miles further on.
None here? Oh, no! They were here, but all have gone to ⸺. And what about
those tracks we saw as we neared his village? Oh! those were made by some
elephant which came from ⸺, but which returned to ⸺ the next morning.