vicinity, and as we were about to pick up the spear we saw its owner’s
head watching us from the bank. We salvaged his spear and rested easy,
while we tried to talk across the river to him. We tried him in all the
native languages known to any member of the safari, but it was not until
we tried the Sango tongue of Ubangui watershed that he answered. But he
was shy and frightened, and we made little headway. When we offered to
bring him his spear he quietly disappeared from view. However, we hoped
we had sown good seed by telling him that we were come to hunt elephant,
and that all who helped were welcome to the meat. On we went on our way,
our progress, as usual, impeded at every pool by hippo. That night we
camped on the bank opposite to that of the natives.
Nothing happened. In the morning as we drew out a young water buck was
shot for food for the boys—we whites preferred teal. While on the subject
of teal I would like to say that we never tired of these birds. We ate
them stewed at regular meal times, and we ate them roasted on the spit
between meals, cold. We ate them not as we do here, a mere slice or two
from the breast; but we each ate one or two whole birds at a sitting.
[Illustration: A WATER BUCK.]
[Illustration: FEMALE WATER BUCK ON SANDBANK.]
As the buck was being skinned we heard a shout from the opposite bank,
and there were some natives. This was splendid. On these occasions it is
best to show no haste or eagerness, so the skinning and loading of the
buck went on methodically. Everything of the buck was taken, as we did
not want our newly-found natives to get any meat until we had come to
some understanding as to their showing us elephant.
When all were aboard we paddled slowly across to the natives, who were
obviously shy. Anchoring the canoe by clinging to the grass, we held a
kind of introduction ceremony. Among the natives we were glad to see our
friend of yesterday’s hippo-spear incident. We laid bare to them our
object in ascending this river, and asked in return with whom we had to
deal. They said that they came from the south, to reach their village
requiring four days’ travelling without loads. Knowing the kind of thing
they meant by this, I estimated the distance at about 180 or 200 miles.
They disclosed also that they had originally been under Senussi at Ndélé,
that they still paid taxes and found labour for that post, but that since
the occupation of the country by the French, following upon the killing
of the old Sultan Senussi, they now lived three or four days’ march to
the north of the post Ndélé. While Senussi reigned they had been obliged
to live in the capital; as with Buba Gida, all the inhabitants of the
country for 300 miles round had been “gathered in.” Meanwhile, they said,
elephant were now in the neighbourhood and that they could show us them.
We were ready in a very few moments to accompany them, merely taking a
mosquito net, a small packet of tea and sugar and a kettle. Presently
we joined up with some more natives, some of whom were armed with the
enormous elephant spear of the Arab elephant hunters, whose country lay
to the north. These spears have a leaf-shaped head from 7 ins. to 9 ins.
across, and are kept razor-edged. The system of hunting is this. In the
dry season, when most of the grass has been burnt off and the harmatan
is blowing, all the young bloods arrange an expedition. The harmatan
is the north-east monsoon of the Indian Ocean, and is a hard breeze at
midday of a velocity of about 30 m.p.h., dry and hot when it comes off
the desert, and constant as regards direction. At this season so dry is
the air that sound carries no distance, and one may walk up to within
a few feet of elephant without fear of discovery. These expeditions
sometimes number 300 spears. All the old crocks of horses are raked up.
The rich are represented on the expedition by slaves, mostly on foot.
All are armed with the huge spears, with their bamboo shanks 10 ft. or
12 ft. long. Off they set for the south, poorly supplied with food, as
they reckon to live “tough” on what they can kill. When they set out
they and the horses are in very good condition, but when they return
the men are haggard and thin, leg-weary and footsore, while most of the
horses are bleached and well gnawed skeletons in the bush. Few survive
the hard work, poor food, and constant attacks of the tsetse fly. When
they meet with the fairly recent trail of a herd of elephant they take
it up with tremendous vigour, push along it without a stop until dark,
camp, on again next day without a stop, perhaps camp again and eventually
sight their quarry. Then those on horses dismount, the protectors are
taken off the razor-sharp spear-heads, and all advance shoulder to
shoulder, spears held projecting 6 ft. or 7 ft. in front, the flat of the
spear-head lying in a horizontal direction. With the harmatan blowing its
hardest it is possible for the line of spear-men to come within thrusting
distance of the elephants’ sterns, and at a signal the spears are driven
in with the aim of cutting the large tendons and arteries. Hence the
width of spear-head. In the consequent commotion casualties among the
spear-men are frequent, as might be expected. Off go the unwounded
animals, the horses are brought, and the chase is again taken up. Now
the elephant will not stop for miles and miles, so they must be ridden
to a standstill, or nearly so, before another assault on them can be
attempted. Away into desperately dry and waterless country they go, but,
try as they may, those human devils are always with them. The hardships
these latter bear are almost incredible. They seldom have water or food
with them. Often they are starving, and their only hope, the death of an
elephant. Kill, or die miserably in the bush, is not a bad system and,
as might be expected, leads to perfectly awful destruction of elephant
life. Ivory is primarily the object, but, as the hunt develops, water and
meat become of more importance. Water, I must explain, is obtained from
the elephants’ intestines and, although warm, is quite good to drink. In
the average herd cows and calves predominate, consequently they suffer
most. In the case of this country the coming of the white man is the
indirect cause of the destruction of elephant, and not, as in other parts
of Africa, the direct cause of their protection. Natives are permitted
to hunt elephant in the above manner on payment of a small fee, in
order that they may acquire the wherewithal to pay their taxes—a policy
short-sighted indeed, when we remember Darwin’s calculation that in 900
years two elephants become a million.
[Illustration: DOE KOB AND CALF WELL CAMOUFLAGED.]
[Illustration: COW HIPPO AND CALF.]
With our newly-found friends as guides we were soon on the trail of our
game, and by their aid we ran into and killed late in the afternoon. Our
friends were simply overjoyed at the sight of so much meat. They became
extremely friendly, cutting grass for my bed, fetching wood and water,
ready to do anything. From being rather surly and reserved they became
very communicative. As they roasted tit-bits from the elephants on their
fires nothing but shouts of laughter and merry chatter could be heard.
And when, later, we had all eaten and everyone was smoking—for they
carried tobacco—they told me more of themselves. I found that they all
talked Sango. They said that every dry season they came to the Bahr Aouck
to hunt hippo or elephant, but that so far they had had no luck. During
the rains the whole country for miles on either side was under water. No
villages existed nearer the river than theirs. They knew the river up
to the point where it issued from Lake Mamun. This item was a complete
surprise to me, for I had never heard it even suggested that the Bahr
Aouck issued from that lake. I pressed my enquiries among the older men,
and arrived at the information that shortly after leaving the lake the
Bahr Aouck was joined by another river which came from a country I knew
to be within the Egyptian Sudan border. I asked after the natives of Lake
Mamun, who were supposed to live on the waters themselves, constructing
for that purpose huts on piles. They told me that since the slave-raids
had ceased, when Senussi was shot by the French, the natives had
abandoned their lake dwellings and now lived on the shores like normal
people. They said that the whole country ahead was teeming with game. I
had learnt more in half an hour round the camp-fire with full bellies
than weeks of intercourse in the ordinary way would have yielded. Such is
the power of meat on the African.
[Illustration: ARAB SPEAR FOR HAM-STRINGING ELEPHANT.]
This system of penetrating the country by feeding the natives has the
disadvantage that if you kill a large animal they dry the meat they
cannot eat and take it home to their villages, when it can be bartered
for all kinds of commodities. Therefore you have constantly to be making
new acquaintances. Everything else is entirely in its favour, not the
least being its economy. They will carry light loads for you for days
through the bush, hunt diligently for game, chop out and carry to the
base any ivory you may get. If you are within fifty miles or so of
villages the women bring food of all sorts, and it is seldom that a few
eggs—more or less fresh—are not forthcoming for the white man. Then
they hold dances in the camps. When there are plenty of young girls
about these dances become rather loose affairs. The usual restraints of
village life seem to be relaxed in the bush, and everyone enjoys himself
or herself to the utmost. Abundance of animal food has a curious effect
on natives. Where they inhabit stockless country they go months without
flesh, with the exception of an occasional rat or mongoose or bird. The
craving for meat becomes intense, and is, in my opinion, the cause of
cannibalism. Then when they suddenly become possessed of almost unlimited
meat they simply gorge themselves. A man will eat 15 lb. or 20 lb. in the
twenty-four hours. All night long he eats and dozes, then eats again.
This turns him a peculiar dull matt colour and yellow in the eyes. On
the third day he has completely recovered from this and is again full of
energy. In a very short time he wants his grain food again, and if he
has the choice will eat a large portion of grain to a small portion of
meat. If, as with elephant, there is a good proportion of fat, natives
become extremely fit on these rations. As an example of this I can cite
the case of a “kilangozi,” or head porter, of mine. This man, of slight
build, carried a tusk weighing 148 lb. plus his mat, blanket and rations,
another 15 lb., for sixty-three days’ consecutive marching. The shortest
day was five hours, and some were very long indeed. He had as rations
throughout this march 2 lb. of native grain each day and as much meat as
he cared for with elephant fat. His condition was magnificent throughout.
[Illustration: PORTAGING CANOES.]
[Illustration: THE KILANGOZI OR HEAD PORTER WHO CARRIED THIS TUSK (148
LBS.) FOR SIXTY-THREE CONSECUTIVE MARCHING DAYS.]
In the morning I pushed off to look for elephant. The natives promised to
cut out the tusks and to bring them to the canoes, which they faithfully
did.
After hunting in this region for some days, during which we saw many
lion and killed six, we pushed on up-stream again. We were soon held up
by more elephant and more natives. The news of our doings had already
reached the villages south of us, and we had a continuous stream of
natives coming hungry to us, carrying our bush loads all over the
country, to be rewarded eventually with meat, and then stopping to smoke
it while their places were taken by newcomers. So prolific in game was
the country that we never reached Lake Mamun, as we had intended. Our
time was up, food exhausted and canoes laden. So one fine day we decided
to return.
XIII
BUFFALO
There is no animal in Africa with such a sinister reputation as the
buffalo, whether the bush cow of West Africa or the great black Cape
buffalo be under discussion. It has been repeatedly accused of dreadful
cunning and great ferocity, and it has undoubtedly caused many deaths
and maulings among both white and native hunters. Among the cases which
have come under my own observation or of which I have heard from reliable
sources, the maulings have been far more numerous than the deaths. The
wounds caused by buffalo horns seem to heal better than lion bites; the
latter, when made by old lions with dirty teeth, can be very troublesome.
Why the buffalo should have got such an evil name has always rather
puzzled me. I have shot hundreds of both kinds during my hunting career,
and I have never been charged. And yet I have constantly read of fierce
encounters between hunters and their game. Two white men were killed
recently in Nigeria by a bush cow, and I have frequently asked for
certain natives by name on revisiting villages and have been told that
they have been killed by buffalo. Yet, even when I came suddenly on a
buffalo bull lying wounded in thick stuff, he did not charge. This animal
had been mauled by lion, and according to all the rules should have
charged as soon as he became aware of my approach. What he would have
done had I not put a bullet through his neck I do not know. Perhaps he
might have charged.
[Illustration: IN THICK STUFF.]
[Illustration: WORTHY GAME.]
[Illustration: SOME RETREATING CLEVERLY BACKWARDS AND RECEIVING THE
CHARGING ANIMALS’ RUSHES ON THEIR SHIELDS, WHILE OTHERS JABBED SPEARS
INTO THEIR VITALS FROM THE SIDES.]
I well remember the mixed awe and apprehension with which I approached
a herd of buffalo in my early hunting efforts. I had read of all the
hair-breadth escapes hunters usually had with these animals, of their
diabolical cunning, etc., and I was quite determined not to wound any. I
was also very cautious not to approach too near. There were many of them
out in fairly short grass. I could see them all clearly, and as we wanted
meat I thought I would select a nice fat cow. With me were about forty
young bloods from the tribe with which I was hunting. They were all fully
armed in their fashion—each man carried two thrusting spears and a rhino
or giraffe hide shield. The reason they carried shields was that we had
been hunting elephant in no man’s land, where prowlers from the enemy,
_i.e._, the neighbouring tribe, might have been met. Telling this mob to
get away back while I did the shooting I left them and approached the
browsing and unsuspicious herd. Selecting what I thought would be a fat
one, I fired. Without pausing or wavering the whole herd started straight
for me, closing together as they came. I fired again at one of the
leaders and then started to get out of their way. As I ran to the side I
met and ran through the forty spear-men, who were now rushing straight
to meet the herd. Stopping and turning, I was astounded to see these
fellows right in among the buffalo, some retreating cleverly backwards
and receiving the charging animals’ rushes on their shields, while others
jabbed spears into their vitals from the sides. No sooner was an animal
down than off they went after the retreating herd. And here, again,
all my preconceived notions were upset, for the natives caught up with
the buffalo again and killed several more. But for the herd’s arrival
at a belt of forest, perhaps they would all have been speared. Not a
native was touched. I must say I was rather staggered by what had taken
place; the awe-inspiring charge was apparently a simple running away;
the terrific speed, strength and agility of the story-book buffalo all
shown up by a handful of nimble lads armed with soft iron spears; the
formidable buffalo made to cut a very poor figure, and the white man with
his wonderful gun made to look extremely foolish.
This incident put me right about buffalo, I think, for I have killed
scores and scores since, and I have never had any trouble with them. I
have shot them in West Africa, where they are usually met in thick stuff
and in long grass, and also in the Liberian forests, east of the Nile and
in the Congo—and invariably with small bores. The most killing bullet I
found to be the solid.
The stampede or rush straight towards the shot was a fairly frequent
occurrence in my experience; and if one were convinced that the animals
were charging, one would have to write down the buffalo as an extremely
dangerous animal were it not for the ease with which they are killed with
end-on delivered solid bullets. Of course, flesh wounds are no good. The
vitals _must be raked_. But in thick stuff the target is so close and so
big that no one should miss it, as for all game of this nature a reliable
magazine rifle is streets ahead of a double. In a mix-up with buffalo in
bush it is sometimes necessary to fire four or even five shots in rapid
succession, and for this the double is mere handicap.
Much has been written about the difference in colour among buffalo, and
there have been attempts to separate them into different races. How all
the colours may be found in one herd may be witnessed on the Shari River
in the dry season when the grass has been burned. I have shot a grey
bull, a black bull, a red and a fawn-coloured bull from the same herd,
all fully adult. And I shot them after watching the herd through glasses
for fully half an hour, during which time I saw many of each of the above
colours. It must not be supposed that this was an isolated instance
of these colours happening in the same herd, for every time I saw any
considerable number of big buffalo in open country I have observed the
same sprinkling of colours.
The jet black is the colour of the solitary bulls one meets casually, and
I imagine from that that black is the final colour.
As with the semi-wild domesticated cattle of the ranching districts of
America, the sight or smell of blood seems to infuriate buffalo more than
anything. On one occasion when in want of meat I hit a cow buffalo in the
lungs with a ·22 high-velocity bullet. She was one of a small herd, and
as she staggered about in her death agony all the others, including the
calves and yearlings, went for her, goring her and knocking her about and
completely hiding her from me. They were dreadfully excited, bellowing
and roaring and even butting at one another.
Natives of almost all tribes have far less respect for buffalo than the
white hunters. They will attack buffalo with very primitive weapons. I
remember once going after an old bull buffalo which had spent the night
in a native garden. Two middle-aged natives tracked for me. Each carried
an abnormal number of short spears, for what purpose I did not understand
until later. They tracked well and quickly as the dew was still on the
ground, and wherever the buffalo had passed was a perfectly plain track.
We presently came to a large depression filled with high reeds well over
a man’s head. Here, the natives said, we were sure to find our game. Now,
at this time I was still in my novitiate as regards buffalo, and my head
was stuffed with the nonsense one is usually told about these animals.
Consequently, I was rather surprised that the natives should be still
willing to go out into the reed-bed. However, I thought it was up to me
to lead the way, and I did so for a few yards, when we got into such a
maze of buffalo tracks and runs and tunnels that I was obliged to let one
of the natives re-find the tracks and lead the way. This he did quite
cheerfully, handing to his companion his surplus spears. On we went into
the most appalling stuff—reeds fourteen feet or fifteen feet high, and so
strong and dense that one could not force one’s way along except in the
buffalo runs. Visibility was good for about two yards ahead. I felt very
uncomfortable indeed, but what gave me confidence was that the leading
native was quite at ease, and I kept thinking that he ought to know all
about buffalo, if anyone did. Personally I expected to see infuriated
buffalo suddenly appearing at a yard’s range at any moment.
We went very quietly, and after prowling for half an hour the leader
stopped. We stood listening, and there, as it were almost at arm’s
length, was a heavy breathing. The tracker leant gently to one side to
let me pass, and I crept cautiously forward. I must confess that I was
in a mortal funk. I felt sure that a frightful charge was imminent. The
breathing could not be more than eight yards or ten yards distant, and
yet nothing was visible. When I had covered, I suppose, five yards or so
there was a terrific snort and a rushing kind of crash. I had my rifle up
covering the noise, ready in an instant to loose off. Nothing appeared
because the buffalo was in as great a state of terror as I was, and
was off. This fact gave me great confidence, as did also the eagerness
with which my companions took up the trail. We tracked and tracked that
wretched buffalo until he must have been in a frightful state of nerves.
We came to within hearing distance of him frequently, but never saw him.
My confidence grew by leaps and bounds, and I tried rushing at him as
soon as we knew he was close. This almost succeeded as I saw the reeds
still in motion where they had closed after his passage.
On the way home I stopped with a spear point almost touching my shirt
front. The cheery fellows with me had planted their spears in the buffalo
runs pointing in the direction from which they thought the buffalo might
come—and extraordinarily difficult they were to see, presented, as they
were, point on.
My experience of buffalo is that they are worthy game in thick stuff, but
ludicrously easy things to kill in open country. Any form of expanding
bullet should not be used, although for a broadside shot any kind of
bullet is good enough. But if one carries mixed bullets one is certain
sooner or later to find oneself loaded with just the wrong type of
bullet, and, perhaps, with no time to change. I have always found the
solid very deadly for all kinds of game. An end-on shot suits this type
of bullet to perfection, as the vitals are certain to be raked if the
holding is as it should be. Blind terror-stricken rushes by buffalo
are not uncommonly straight towards the gun, but the brutes are easily
dropped with a well planted shot. I believe that buffalo can be very
nasty when in thick stuff with a flesh wound, but there is no earthly
reason with modern firearms why one should miss such a target as is
presented by a buffalo’s vitals. Always know where you are sending your
bullet, I have found to be an excellent maxim.
XIV
AFRICAN LIONS
African lions may be placed in two categories—those which kill their
game, and those which live largely on carrion, as hyenas do. Among the
former, carrion-eaters will sometimes be found, but this foul feeding
is generally due to old age or broken teeth, and it is among these
that the habit of man-eating takes place. While in robust health and
full possession of their power these lions will never touch dead meat,
preferring to kill zebra, haartebeeste, wildebeeste, or even buffalo or
giraffe; whereas the pig-eaters—as the lions of the second category are
called—prey upon much smaller stuff, such as warthog, reedbuck, duiker,
etc., failing which they will eat anything dead they may find. There are,
therefore, lions and pig-eating lions.