We might very well suppose that Africa, flattered at receiving a
visit from Europeans, is bent upon preparing a fresh surprise for us
every day, and wishes to astonish us by the variety of her landscapes
and manners. The soil, and they who inhabit it, present a fresh
aspect every moment, so that the eye is never wearied, curiosity is
always aroused, and one's imagination is incessantly active.
Yesterday, we met with a race of dwarfs, the Akkas; to-day we find
ourselves amongst the Maleggas, men of commanding stature, and
admirably-proportioned limbs, with frank, open countenances, fine
eyes, well-shaped mouths, and complexions of bronze. Yesterday we
were fighting against the Domondoos, a set of cowardly, cruel brutes;
to-day we have been received with open arms by a hospitable, brave,
and almost intellectual people.
The natives, amongst whom we have sojourned during the past few
months, have never been able to make up their minds to cultivate the
ground, although the soil requires so little labour, and repays the
slightest attention. They reap the harvest before it is ripe, gather
the fruit whilst it is still green, and in every conceivable way
display their ingratitude towards the paradise where accident has
made them see the light. If they become tired of the vegetables and
fruit which Nature places ready to their hands, if the manna which
falls from heaven does not suffice them, and if they hanker after
more substantial food, they betake themselves to plundering their
neighbours, "lifting" their cattle, and growing fat at their expense.
For the last few days, on the other hand, we have been passing
through a vast territory in a state of perfect cultivation, whose
inhabitants are self-dependent. Oxen form the wealth of the country,
and every hamlet possesses a large quantity of them. They roam at
will through the extensive pasture-grounds watered by numerous
streams converging towards the Keebally. This constant supply of
water renders the plains as green, even in summer, as they are in the
height of the rainy season. Vast forests encircle them and shelter
them from the sun's rays, and where the plain is of too great an
extent to be effectually shaded by the surrounding woods, trees
scattered here and there prevent all possibility of its being parched
and dried up. Here one sees a tamarind tree, eighty feet in diameter,
and forming a perfect bower; there a baobab, with a circumference of
twenty yards.
Such of the cattle as are not allowed to roam about, are herded in
large kraals surrounded by palisades and guarded by herdsmen, who
keep large fires burning to protect them from the flies and
mosquitoes. We are in the midst of a mild-mannered race of shepherds,
who fight in self-defence alone, when their wealth provokes the
cupidity of their neighbours. As a measure of precaution, sentries
continually patrol round the kraals and villages, and the war-drum is
ever in readiness to summon the tribe to arms. As if to assert that
they are neither invaders nor oppressors, but confine themselves to
protecting their native land, their dwellings and their families, the
Maleggas do not possess any weapon of attack. They replace the bow
and arrow by a long-bladed knife, and a formidable iron-headed club.
These people defend themselves valiantly, and their neighbours are so
well aware of it that they hesitate to attack them. In other respects
the Maleggas show themselves friendly-disposed towards the bordering
tribes, and, in order to enjoy the blessings of peace, and herd their
cattle in ease and tranquillity, they pay tribute to those whose
strength they fear. They never trouble their heads about the
Domondoos, their northern neighbours, because the Monbuttoos, as we
have already seen, make it their business to bring that nation to
reason once a year, and carry all its able-bodied men into slavery.
Amongst this tribe, out of place in the heart of Africa, planted,
apparently, by God, to be an example to their neighbours—an example,
by-the-way, by which those neighbours do not profit the least—we
ought very easily to obtain the information we seek.
If accident had not placed in our hands the notes written by M. de
Guéran, we should not have learnt a single thing from the Domondoos,
who were incapable even of understanding our interpreters and
replying to them. But here, with the knowledge we have already gained
of the negro dialects, which are very various, but always, to a
certain extent, analogous, we can often manage to convey our own
meaning, and grasp the sense, at all events, of what is said to us.
The vocabularies of these tribes are not so voluminous as our own; a
few simple words and certain expressions, adopted into common usage,
form the foundation of the language. By degrees, one gets to
understand these, and any verbal deficiencies are made up
advantageously by a look or a gesture.
These interviews were not always easily arranged, because in the
first districts we passed through, our arrival produced great
consternation. King Kadjoro, however, lost no time in assuring his
subjects that they had nothing to fear from the Monbuttoos, and
Munza, at the same time, maintained strict discipline in his army,
having secured that desirable end by the summary execution of a few
thieves and marauders.
In spite of these delicate attentions on the part of Munza, and the
remonstrances of their own King, the peaceable Maleggas in the first
instance took to flight at the very approach of our noisy and always
unruly army. But by degrees, when the soldiers had constructed their
camp, and it was seen that they laid aside their arms and lolled
about quietly in the shade, the natives returned to their homes, and
frequently came to our side of the encampment.
Without being almost entirely clothed, as the Monbuttoos are, the
Maleggas wear a species of drawers made out of cow-hide, which
renders them presentable. This is supplemented by tattooing, in their
case very complicated, composed of curved and straight lines crossing
each other, with zigzags and circles intermixed. The women, following
the example of their sisters in other tribes, wear a costume of
leaves, and are not sparing of the material, which is always of
considerable dimensions. Near the equator, Nature is liberal with her
foliage, and the Malegga ladies take advantage of her generosity to
give amplitude to their garments.
It was not long before we were surrounded by curious, but not
offensively inquisitive groups. We, on our side, scanned the crowd
attentively, so as to single out the man or woman whose appearance
held out the greatest promise of intelligence. When we hit upon a
likely subject, we called him or her, as the case might be, to come
to us. The individual thus distinguished would hesitate at first, and
show signs of retreating, but urged on by his comrades he would end
by waddling awkwardly towards us.
The examination would then commence, M. de Guéran, of course, being
the sole topic. Here we learnt that he stayed in the neighbouring
village for nearly a fortnight. He appeared, so we were told, tired
and ill, and dragged himself along rather than walked. They showed us
the hut where he had rested, and whence, as soon as he felt himself
strong enough, he had set out towards the south. We were thus
following our fellow-countryman, step by step. We saw him, as it
were, recovering his strength, and making longer and longer stages on
his journey. The hospitality of the Maleggas hastened his recovery;
in the villages on the frontier he was still an invalid, staggering
along; in the hamlets in the centre of the country he was a man
again, stronger and more vigorous. He walked and did not merely
crawl.
His portrait never varies, but seems graven on the memory of the
whole tribe. Those who never saw him have heard him spoken of so
often that they know him and can depict his appearance. The journey
of this stranger through the country has been a regular event, and
the recollection of it is even now far from dying out.
Everybody is agreed on the point that he had a long fair beard, and
flowing locks. This latter detail was at first a surprise to the
Baroness, who only knew her husband as with a pair of moustaches and
short hair, but it soon dawned upon her that M. de Guéran, robbed by
the Domondoos of all his baggage, must have been obliged to submit to
the growth of that which he could neither cut nor shave. Besides,
travellers in central Africa, even those who have not been robbed, as
the Baron was, do not take very great pains with their toilet, and we
are exceptionally favoured in this respect, thanks to Joseph, who at
the commencement of our journey was appointed to the rank of sole
barber to the expedition. It also very frequently happens that
Europeans end by drawing near to the Africans in the matter of
complexion, the fair ones becoming coffee-coloured, and the dark ones
chocolate. The skin peels under the influence of the sun's burning
rays, one becomes unrecognizable and might very easily pass muster,
if not amongst regular negroes, at all events amongst many tribes of
a less dusky hue. M. de Guéran appears to have saved from the wreck
the clothes he had on, for he is described as having been dressed
very much as we are. This piece of minor information seemed to
delight Miss Poles, who had never attempted to conceal her fear that
we shall find M. de Guéran reduced to the condition of a savage,
which, she is wont to add, would be very shocking.
The natives are very clear about the route adopted by the white man
on leaving their village for the next hamlet, but we can gain no
information as to the direction he took on the day when he finally
quitted their country, or, indeed, whether he ever left it. Their
knowledge and information never extend beyond a radius of five or six
leagues; the districts in the north are entirely ignorant of what
passes in those of the centre and south. It could not well be
otherwise in countries where communication is a matter of difficulty,
and newspapers are unknown. We can only be assured on this point when
we reach the monarch, who, according to all accounts, appears to have
hospitably entertained the European traveller. In the meantime,
thanks to the intelligence of the Maleggas, we can trace, to a
certain extent, each stage made by our fellow-countryman. He arrived
amongst them in the middle of October, just as we were setting out
from Paris in search of him. That, seeing that we are now in October,
1873, is precisely a year ago. We can, even, approach him in thought
more nearly than that, as he certainly remained amongst the Maleggas
for several months, taking advantage of their hospitality to recruit
his forces, to pick up again, in vulgar _parlance_, in order to
attempt fresh enterprises. Six or eight months only, therefore,
separate us from him—a blank of six or eight months, how has he
filled up that blank? That is a question which we must lose no time
in answering.
As we approach the royal residence the country becomes still more
picturesque, and the villages succeed each other in closer, more
unbroken array. They are dotted here and there on the hills, and
nestle amidst their wooded and flowering slopes. We are tempted to
forget Africa and to imagine ourselves in Normandy. Goats frisk about
the hills, cattle find luxuriant pasture in the plains, and
diminutive shepherds armed with miniature lances and clubs keep watch
over the flocks and herds. Pretty girls, with upright carriage and
shapely limbs, bearing huge jars on their heads, wend their way
towards the river. In front of the huts, under a sort of verandah
composed of banana branches, the family take their ease, from the
hoary-headed ancient to the toddling infant just taking his first
lessons in walking. The sun pours his rays in streams over this
landscape; odours of ineffable sweetness escape from the flower-laden
bushes, and the birds sing amongst the branches. We push as far as
possible ahead of the army to revel, free and untroubled, in the
glorious beauty of the scene.
At length the roll of our drums is echoed by a similar sound from
afar, shouts are heard, men run to meet us, soldiers appear. Kadjoro
is advancing to welcome his ally Munza. Despite the simplicity of his
manner and customs, he has seized on the opportunity for display. An
African sovereign could never deny himself that pleasure.