long as we remained unwelcome; that is, until we had killed an elephant
and shared the meat with the natives. After that event relations might
reasonably be expected to become more cordial, provided that meanwhile
we could avoid fighting in any shape or form. Now, this avoiding of
fighting must necessarily depend largely on the natives themselves, for
of course if one is attacked one must defend oneself. Especially so among
these Lakkas was this the case, for they had no powerful chiefs whom they
obeyed. Indeed, they were what my companion and myself called, loosely
enough, I dare say, Bolsheviks. Every man was out for himself, and to
hell with everything else. No authority of any kind was obeyed. And to
this total lack of cohesion or combination we undoubtedly owed the fact
that we were not attacked seriously before we became friendly with them.
They had developed the art of running away to a fine point by storing
their grain and beer-making appliances in the thick part of the bush, by
building huts, the loss of which by fire at the hands of an enemy would
occasion least labour to repair, by keeping all livestock, such as goats
and sheep, tethered at a convenient distance from the village, and in
many other ways assisting their one trump card—instant flight.
Few people who have not experienced it can have any conception of how
effective such a “barrage” can be. You perhaps wish to traverse the
country. You arrive at a village. Nobody there. You proceed along a path
which seems to lead in the direction in which you wish to go. It lands
you in another deserted village. Now you have to camp, and water has to
be found. Sometimes in the dry season this may be miles from the camp.
The drawers of water must be escorted. Then you wish to purchase food
for your carriers. No one to sell it. You think to take it and leave the
value in kind in its place, only to discover that no food of any kind is
kept in the village. All this time not a soul is seen or even heard. You
give it up and pass on to some actively hostile or friendly tribe, as the
case may be.
As we appeared to be so unwelcome in this village we decided to move on
the next day. The chief man of the village promised to provide us with a
guide to the village where elephant were reported as visiting the gardens
every night. Anxious as he was to get rid of us, we reasoned that, to
attain that object, he would surely provide the guide or lead us himself.
We consequently liberated our captive guide, loading him with presents
and promising him mountains of meat when and wherever we should kill an
elephant if he would come to claim it. He stayed around for some time,
and I began to hope that he would accompany us further, but he presently
disappeared.
On the morrow our reasoning about the guide was completely confounded,
as white men’s reasoning so often is when applied to African affairs.
No guide was forthcoming, nor could the village headman be found. The
village was once more completely deserted. As, however, we had been able
to get the general direction from the headman before he went to bush, we
broke camp and took a likely-looking path.
After much wandering from one deserted village to another we arrived in
the afternoon at a large one on the edge of a slough. As usual there was
not a soul to be seen, but I have no doubt that our every movement was
being carefully watched. On the march some kob had been shot and a good
portion of the meat reserved for any native who might venture to approach
us. After we had had our meal an old man came in. He was taken no notice
of by anybody—far the best way to allay suspicion. When he seemed more
at his ease I gave him some buck meat. He took it and at once began to
cook it, as he had seen it cut from a leg with the skin still on it. It
was unlikely, therefore, to be poisoned, and besides, if he took the meat
away with him he would have to share it with others. To avoid this he
evidently purposed eating it in our camp.
When he had fairly got the taste of meat on his palate, I got the
interpreter to work on him about elephant. At first he said there were
none. We did not worry him, although we knew this to be a lie, as we
had seen recent tracks that day. After some time he volunteered the
information that elephant had been in the gardens the night before.
I said to him that I thought I would go and kill one or two, in as
indifferent a tone as I could, and that if he cared to come along he
would certainly get some meat. He became quite excited then, saying he
would fetch me a man who would show me where the elephant had been eating
the corn in the night. Off he hurried and soon came back with several
men. We were ready for them, and as they preceded us some of them ran on
ahead to pick up the freshest tracks, blowing as they went their curious
little signalling whistles. With these whistles they can talk over quite
a distance—in fact, it is a sort of short-range wireless telegraph. We
found it subsequently of great assistance, as the notes of these whistles
were familiar to elephant, and they appeared not to mind them in the
least.
Although the sun was already half-way between the vertical and the
sundown, we judged from the air of suppressed excitement about our
guides that the game was not far off. This surmise proved to be correct,
for about a mile from our camp we entered a large plantation literally
ploughed up by elephant. My companion, who was naturally the most
stoical of men, showed signs of great interest. This was his first safari
in real wild country, and he had never yet seen a wild elephant. All the
tracks were those of bulls, and some of them were colossal. Plenty of
63-in. and 64-in. feet had been there, and one with a circumference of 70
ins. This meant that the owner had a shoulder height not far short of 12
ft. We thought that if their tusks were in proportion to their feet we
had indeed struck lucky.
The elephant had evidently been visiting this plantation nightly for
some time, and the damage must have appeared terrible in the eyes of the
owners. Bananas had been stripped, broken off, or completely uprooted.
Sugar cane ceased to exist. Much of the millet had been eaten and more
trampled down. But it was the ground-nuts which had suffered most.
These nuts grow in clusters on the roots of a clover-like plant and are
barely covered with soil. The shell is quite fragile and cracks on the
least pressure being applied. When it is remembered that the foot of an
elephant covers some two square feet of ground, and that he has four
of them, and that when feeding he is seldom still for long, one begins
faintly to appreciate the devastating effect two or three dozen of them
would have on any garden.
Wasting no more time than was necessary to unravel the tracks, we
were soon hot on the trail of a large bull. This trail led us among
other gardens for a time, all similarly raided. But presently we left
cultivation and plunged into high bush, fairly dense in parts, with long
grass in the more open places. I stopped and told the crowd of natives
who had tagged themselves on to us that no one was to follow us on any
account, hinting with my rifle what would happen if they did so. Then
we took with us one native and followed the trail. In a very short time
we heard noises ahead of us. We stopped to listen. Sure enough it was
elephant. Leaving the native, we walked carefully but rapidly toward
the noises. It had been arranged between us that, as I had had previous
experience of this game, I was to do the shooting, while my companion
picked up what tips he could. I was leading when I suddenly saw through
the clearer ground-stems of the bush the feet and parts of the legs of a
motionless elephant. At the same time the noises we had been approaching
appeared to come from beyond this quiet elephant. A glance through the
leaves revealed nothing of his body. This was awkward. He was only a
few paces distant, and the wind was all over the place, as is usual in
thick stuff. If we ran into him and killed him the chances were that
the shot would stampede the others. And then, he might have little or
no ivory, although his legs and feet were massive enough. Relying on
these elephants being quite familiar with human smell, I slipped round
behind him, making plenty of unavoidable noise, and so got between him
and the noisy bunch. We were rewarded for this manœuvre by reaching an
opening in the bush which gave us not only a view of the noisy ones, but
also a glance at our first friend as he moved off. This glance showed
that he had short but thick ivory. I instantly put a shot into him and
another into what appeared to be the largest among the noisy ones. Both
were heart shots, as in this type of bush the lower half of an elephant
is generally more clearly disclosed than the upper half. At the shot
there was the usual terrific commotion, crashing trees and dust. Hot
on the vanishing sterns we raced and jumped to a standstill, face to
face with the first elephant I had fired at. Head on, there he stood,
perfectly motionless, about ten yards away. To me, of course, he was
merely a stricken animal and would topple over in a few moments; but to
my companion he must have appeared quite sufficiently grim and menacing.
I dropped him with the frontal brain shot, and showed my companion the
direction and elevation for this shot, and then off we raced again on the
trail of the others. We soon came upon the second elephant; he was down,
but not yet quite dead. As he raised his head my companion tried a shot
at his brain with his ·450, but failed to find it. I finished him with a
·318.
Leaving W. to wait for the natives, I tried on alone. I had not gone a
quarter of a mile when I caught sight of a large bull elephant. He was
moving towards an abandoned plantation through nice open stuff, and had I
been able to reach him before he arrived at the densely bushed plantation
I would have got him easily. But he reached and disappeared into the
thick stuff without offering a chance. One would imagine that so massive
an animal would leave behind him a passage clear enough for a man to
pass along with ease and speed. This is by no means the case; everything
rises up and closes in behind him again, and the trail remains almost as
difficult to follow as before. I plunged into the horrible stuff and was
soon close up to his stern. All I could do was to keep close up and wait
until either we reached an open patch, when I might be able to range up
alongside, or until he turned so as to give a chance at the brain. The
rifle cartridge is not yet invented which will rake a full-grown elephant
from stern to vitals.
[Illustration: HE DISAPPEARED INTO THE THICK STUFF.]
[Illustration: THERE HE WAS NOW FACING ME.]
As I stumbled and clambered and pushed and sweated along behind this
fellow he suddenly stopped, stood for an instant, then threw his head
up, backed sharply towards me and to my left, at the same time bringing
his front end round with a swing, and there he was now facing me. This
manœuvre was so unexpected and done so swiftly—all in one movement, as
it were—as to be perfectly amazing. The transformation from that massive
but rather ridiculous-looking stern to the much higher head, with its
broad forehead, gleaming tusks and squirming trunk, was so sudden and
disconcerting that I missed the brain and had barely time to reload and
fire again—this time into his body and from the hip, with the muzzle
perhaps only a few inches from his hide—as he rushed over the very spot I
had occupied an instant before. Whew! But I thought I had him, although I
suspected I had placed my shot too low. This was wrong, for I just then
heard a crash and knew he was down. He was stone dead when I reached
him. It was almost sundown, and I called up the natives. W. came with
them. I was very exhausted and thirsty, having done no elephant hunting
since before the war, so we demanded beer from the Lakkas, who were now
our bosom friends. This was soon forthcoming from the bush, and very
refreshing we both found it. We had three very large elephants, which
would supply everyone with meat, and we expected that it would bring the
natives in from other parts with further news of elephant. The ivory was
very disappointing; it was of good quality, but very short and hollow.
After the death of the first elephant, runners had gone to bring up the
safari to a nearer village, so that we had not the long and deadly trek
so common after an elephant hunt. In fact, we had barely gone a mile when
we saw the welcome reflection of our fires on the trees, and we were soon
as comfortable as possible.
After a substantial meal of buck-meat and rice, I asked W. what his
impressions had been like. He told me the most vivid occurred when I
fired the first shot. He said it appeared for all the world as if the
elephant were motionless and the trees rushing past them.
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.
[Illustration: GALLERY FOREST AND BABOON.]
[Illustration: CAMP ON LAKE LÉRÉ.]
To reach the watershed to which our mystery river belonged—if it existed
at all—it was necessary to travel many hundreds of weary miles. First
500 miles against the current. Then a land portage of eighty miles. Then
a descent with the current of 200 miles, and then an ascent against
the current of some 450 miles. Incredible as it may seem in these days
of quick transport, this trek took four months to accomplish, and
that before reaching the beginning of the unknown river. Long before
we arrived there our scanty store of European provisions was finished,
and we lived entirely upon the country. We had left England very poorly
provided with provisions, as there were regulations still in force
prohibiting the export of foodstuffs.
On our way and while waiting for our canoes, which had got sadly delayed
among the shippers, we visited the native Sultan Buba Gida, as I
described in Chapter X. On our return from Buba’s country—where we had
some interesting shooting—we found our canoes ready for us. It did not
take us long to get our gear ready, and off we started up-stream for the
long and arduous journey before us. We made sails and fitted masts to the
canoes, as we often had a following wind, and they assisted tremendously.
W. was an accomplished waterman and steered one canoe, while I steered
the big one. So as to be handy to our fleet we had been camped on a
beautiful sand-bank while preparing for the start, and every evening we
practised the boys in paddling. When the day came, when all was stowed
neatly away, we rattled off up-stream at a great pace, passing easily any
craft on the river.
As our way now lay for hundreds of miles through more or less well-known
country, I will merely recount the incidents of more than ordinary
interest. One of these happened when we made a halt for washing clothes.
One of our boys—_who could not swim_—calmly walked into a very deep and
dangerously swift part of the river to recover his shirt which had blown
in. To his astonishment he found that he could not keep his head above
water. Judging by the expression on the face which every now and again
bobbed up at a rapidly increasing distance, this—to him—curious fact did
not seem to alarm him at all. The perfect fool kept grinning every time
his head came out. It suddenly dawned upon me that I had seen this kind
of thing before, and that the boy was really drowning. I immediately
shoved the naked headman—a clever swimmer—into the river, telling him to
save the lad. But long before he reached him the gallant W. had towed
him to the bank, where he continued to grin foolishly.
Another was when I pipped an enormous “croc.” He was floating lazily down
the centre of the current when I shot him. Hit in the brain, he happened
to float until some natives got their fish-harpoons into him. They towed
him ashore and cut him up, and there in his inside was what I had read
of in travellers’ tales, but had never before seen—a native woman’s
brass bangle. The natives of the place claimed to know this croc. well,
and even to know the name of the bangle’s former owner. The finding of
the bangle did not at all prevent the natives from eating the croc. In
connection with the finding of bangles in crocs.’ insides, a missionary
we met advanced a theory that the crocs. picked up and swallowed a lot of
these from the river bed. But he could not explain how the bangles got
there.
Throughout this expedition W. and I lived for the most part on what we
shot and on what we could buy from the natives. Almost everywhere we
got whistling teal with great ease. One shot from W.’s 12-bore would
usually provide enough for all hands. He seldom picked up less than five
or six, and once we gathered twenty-nine from a single discharge. They
were tender and fat enough to cook in their own juice, and their flavour
was exquisite. They were literally in tens of thousands in some places.
There were many other fowl in thousands also, but none were so good to
eat as the whistlers, except the tiny and beautiful “butter-ball” teal.
These were rather rare. The spur-winged goose and the Egyptian goose were
also very numerous, but tough and strong in the pot. Guinea-fowl were
very common, and the young ones were delicious, while the old ones made
capital soup. On one occasion we heard guinea-fowl making a tremendous
clatter in the bush by the river bank. We paddled over to shoot some for
the pot. W. fired at one in a tree from the canoe. At the report a large
lioness slunk away through the bush. This occurred on our way home, and
as we were by that time satiated with lion we let her go unmolested.
[Illustration: A MAN-EATER, FROM WHOSE INSIDE A WOMAN’S BANGLE WAS
TAKEN.]