Bush scenery — A night at Bo — The Frontier Force at Daru —
Mendi and Kissy carriers — Cotton-growing — Secret societies
— Poro and Bundu societies — Marriage customs — The Liberian
frontier.
THE country of Sierra Leone consists of two parts: the colony and
the protectorate. The colony is mountainous, and runs out in a
peninsula from the protectorate or hinterland. Roughly speaking,
the colony is the civilized part, and the protectorate is in West
African parlance the “Bush.” In the peninsula a quantity of
ginger is grown, and through these plantations the train wends its
way for some twenty miles. On the left is the Sierra Leone or Bunce
River, and on the east is a rocky range of hills. After leaving the
colony the line runs for about 120 miles through typical West African
“bush” scenery to Bo. For those who have never seen it it may be
of interest to say a few words about the West African “bush.” It
generally consists of a tangled mass of small trees and undergrowth,
never more than some thirty feet high, so thick that it is impossible
to see more than two or three yards inside it, and so dense that
without cutting a path it is not possible to force one’s way
through it. This bush is often the haunt of the smaller species of
wild game, such as cerval cats, bush pigs and small antelope; but
these are difficult to see, and still more difficult to shoot on
account of the thickness of the foliage. Every three to five years
the bush is cut by its owner, for all bush-land has a proprietor,
who will make himself known soon enough if anyone else attempts to
appropriate his particular piece of land. The landlord then clears
the ground and makes a farm, planting rice, ground nuts, or whatever
is suited best to that locality. This clearing process is often
considerably helped by first burning the undergrowth. Bush fires for
this purpose are started in January or February, when the vegetation
has been dried by the hot tropical sun and by the dry winds called
“Harmatan,” which blow about this time of year. After getting
his crops from the land the native allows the bush to grow up once
more, and so rapid is this growth in the luxuriant damp atmosphere,
that in a few months after the rains have commenced the untutored
eye can discern no trace of the previous existence of a farm.
In West Africa the area of land under cultivation is relatively
small. For miles upon miles there is this dense bush, with here and
there a clearing for a farm or a small village. Although vegetation
is so luxuriant flowers are not often seen.
We steamed into Bo about eight o’clock that night, very much shaken
and extremely glad to get out of the train. We arrived in pitch
darkness, the train was late, and no such luxuries as lamps exist
at this station. After much altercation between my “boy” and
the native guard my baggage was produced from the van, and I made
my way towards the rest-house, where travellers are accommodated.
My recollections of that night are not altogether pleasant ones.
After dinner I sat down in one of the madeira chairs belonging to
the rest-house, thinking I would enjoy a quiet pipe before turning
in. I had no sooner sat down, however, than a curious scrunching
noise in my chair made me start and jump up pretty quickly. I had
disturbed a scorpion, and only just discovered the fact in time
to prevent the horrible brute from biting me. The rest-house had
evidently not been inhabited for some time, and the scorpion had no
doubt made himself a comfortable home in that particular chair, so
nearly to my discomfiture. An amusing scene ensued while my servant
and two other natives pursued the luckless scorpion with sticks,
boots, and anything that came handy, shouting and hurling anathemas
at him all the while. After a considerable number of lucky escapes,
owing chiefly to want of skill on the part of his pursuers, he was
finally laid low by a blow from one of my heavy marching boots,
and after this he was soon despatched, allowing me to pass the
remainder of the night undisturbed.
[Illustration: BARRACKS OF THE W.A.F.F. AT DARU
The Sierra Leone Battalion of the West African Frontier Force have
comfortable quarters near the rail-head of the Government Railway in
the Protectorate. In the foreground can be seen an officer feeding
some English fowls.]
[Illustration: RIVER MOA AT A SPOT NEAR THE EASTERN FRONTIER OF
SIERRA LEONE
This picturesque river has a portion of its course in Sierra Leone
and a portion in Liberia. Like most of the Sierra Leone rivers,
it is too rapid to be navigable except by canoes, although there
is a direct waterway connecting it with the sea.]
The train left at eight o’clock the following morning, so I was
up betimes to secure a seat in the very small compartment which was
all that was now allotted to travellers. Our train was to take us
to Daru, a distance of eighty miles.
I was met at Daru by two officers of the West African Frontier Force,
who have their head-quarters here. I was kindly invited to stay at
the barracks during my sojourn at Daru, an invitation of which I
gladly availed myself.
The barracks are picturesquely situated on the banks of the Moa
River. The officers have a very nice mess and comfortable quarters.
They have an English-built four-oared boat on the river, where
fishing and bathing are also to be had; in addition there is a
tennis-court in the mess-grounds, so that for West Africa they are
extremely well provided for.
The Frontier Force Battalion in Sierra Leone is recruited from West
African natives, and is a colonial corps, the officers being seconded
from their regiments for short periods of duty under the colonial
office. The officers are keen soldiers, and the men, under their able
instruction, form excellent fighting material. They have done a lot
of good service for the Empire in West Africa ever since they were
first raised, a good many years ago. I spent that night at Daru,
and next morning despatched my servant and baggage to Pendembu by
road. In the afternoon, by the courtesy of the railway officials,
I was provided with a trolly, on which I had a ride to the end
of the railway, where I found my baggage already installed in the
rest-house by the faithful Suri, my servant.
That night was passed in parading my carriers and allotting to each
man his particular load. These men were to accompany me as far as the
French frontier, where I had arranged to be met by a fresh gang. The
next morning, the 9th of January, at daybreak, all was ready for
a start. My escort, consisting of a non-commissioned officer and
three men, kindly supplied by the officer commanding the Frontier
Force, were well accustomed to their work, and had all the loads
with their respective carriers ready. It was a curious sight to see
these strange figures, each man squatting behind his load waiting
for the order to raise it upon his woolly head. Their attire was of
the scantiest and raggedest description. One man proudly displayed a
threadbare frock-coat, so tattered as scarcely to hang together on
him, while another had a red and yellow tam-o’-shanter jauntily
placed on the side of his head. These carriers are a very merry,
cheerful lot; however long the day’s march, however hot the sun
may be as they trudge along with a heavy load on their heads,
they seldom grumble, but chatter away to each other and crack
jokes with their neighbours. Of course, carriers vary a great deal,
both in their value as porters and in their disposition. The best
carriers in Sierra Leone are the Mendi tribe; these people have
been accustomed for centuries to carry heavy loads from the interior
down to the big native markets near the coast, and are hard to beat
as porters. Our road now lay nearly due north, keeping just on the
British side of the Anglo-Liberian frontier.
Very soon after leaving Pendembu we came into the mountainous region
which extends almost uninterruptedly along the border. The bush
path here was very rough, and led us for the most part up and down
steep hill-sides. This country did not appear to be much populated;
occasionally a small village was seen half hidden in the bush. At
rare intervals we passed a man carrying a load of palm kernels
on his back, probably on his way to the nearest station of the
railway, where he would dispose of his burden at a good price to
the local trader. These people were Kissis. They have a peculiar way
of carrying their loads. A kind of basket is first made of twisted
palm leaves, in shape rather semi-cylindrical; this basket is packed
with the kernels, and is then slung in the following manner over the
back. Two braces are made, one to pass under each armpit and over the
corresponding shoulder, while a third brace leads from the top of the
basket and passes around the forehead. It is very noticeable that
men who carry loads in this fashion are not half so well set-up as
the Mendis, who always carry their loads on the top of their heads.
We reached the small village of Mafindo about three o’clock
that afternoon, and here I decided to halt for the night. The
chief was summoned and told to provide myself and my party with
accommodation for that evening. I did not much relish the idea of
sleeping here, as it was a very dirty cattle town; the houses looked
like pigsties, and were evidently the habitation of cows as well as
human beings. However, it was not feasible to push on any further
that night as the next village was a long way off, so I had to make
the best of Mafindo. The village itself is half in British and half
in Liberian territory. The centre street, or alley-way, divides one
country from the other. Each portion has its own chief with its
own set of laws. A little cotton is grown in this part of Sierra
Leone, each village producing sufficient for its own needs. Cotton
is grown in small clearings close to the villages. It is picked by
the women, who also clean it and spin it. The process is as follows.
The cotton pod is rolled between two smooth stones in order to crush
out the cotton seeds; it is then spun on to wooden spindles, and at
the same time rubbed with bone dust to harden it. Cloth is usually
woven by the men. West African cotton is very short in the staple,
so that cloth is made in narrow strips about nine inches wide. To
make a garment it is necessary to sew a dozen or more of these strips
together. The cloth is coarse but of good quality. In some parts
of the country exceedingly pretty-coloured cloths are made; some
of these are quite handsome as tablecloths and similar ornaments.
The people themselves have few wants in the way of clothing. The men
wear a scanty loin-cloth, and the women have a somewhat larger one,
which is thrown round the body, enveloping it from the breasts to
the feet. The children of both sexes run about naked until they
are thirteen or fourteen years of age. Most of the wealth of the
peasants of this region is in their cattle. The animals are small
and the cows give little milk; but the cattle are sturdy, hardy
little beasts, and seem seldom to suffer from sickness.
At last the chief came to tell me that all was ready for my
inspection, with many humble wishes that I should find my abode
comfortable. My friend was not a very imposing-looking individual.
Although a chief, he was no better clothed than his dirty, scantily
dressed fellow-citizens. He appeared to be very old as he hobbled
up, leaning heavily on a stick. His chief pleasure in life was
to take snuff, and his delight when I gave him a small present of
tobacco is not easily described. Tobacco is a most useful article
of commerce in these countries. Travellers should be careful to be
amply supplied with the fragrant leaf. It will buy most things in the
bush, as natives are fond of it, both for smoking and snuff-taking.
The country here is the northern limit of Mendiland. The Mendis are
pagans, and are to a great extent governed by the secret society
called “Poro.” The chiefs frame the laws of the country with the
help of this society, and all land under cultivation is subject to
the Poro laws with regard to the gathering of crops. When Poro is
put on a crop the owner is not allowed to gather it until the Poro
is taken off. For a civilized person it is hard to understand the
signification of Poro, or to realize the tremendous influence it
has on the Mendi people.
“Medicine” is often placed near the entrance to a farm to scare
away evil spirits; this is usually a little rice, or a few bananas,
or it may be some egg-shells, which are either laid on the path
or placed in an old calabash hung over the entrance supported on
two sticks. Forms of “Juju,” or “Medicine,” are varied
and peculiar.
Charms are also common among these people. The Mendis hold two
particular charms in great respect. One is called “Suk,” and
is warranted to bring the lucky possessor good fortune. The other
is called “Hoare,” and is used to protect the owner from evil
influences. It is made of a plant which is fairly common in the
hinterland, and which is boiled into a thick greenish substance.
This is then eaten, and has the property of increasing the drinking
powers of the consumer. This property enhances the prestige of the
individual, as the Poro society is much given to drinking.
The usual form of charm in West Africa consists of a few verses
of the Koran written on paper and enclosed in a leathern amulet.
These amulets are worn round the neck, on the arms, or hung up in
the house. They are also frequently found tied to horses’ tails
and manes. The Mendis, however, not being Mohammedans, do not
often indulge in this special kind of charm. The Poro society is
not entirely a good one; for instance, the Human Leopard Society,
of which the object is the murder of persons who are undesirable
to the society, is an offshoot of Poro. Boys of twelve to fourteen
are circumcised by Poro, and these are the youngest members of
the organization. Every village has a portion of bush in the
vicinity allotted as the Poro Bush, and kept sacred for the rites
of the society. Anyone who penetrates it is killed without mercy. A
candidate for initiation must obtain the consent of his relatives,
who are required to stand surety that he will not flinch or attempt
to withdraw while undergoing the ordeal. He is then confined in
the Poro Bush and not allowed to leave it or to speak until the
conclusion of his initiation. He is unexpectedly subjected to trials
of fire and attacks from wild animals. After this period of probation
he is washed, a white cap is placed on his head, and he is given a
staff decorated with beads. He is then made to swear a solemn oath
never to reveal the secrets of the society; this oath is usually
administered on a tortoiseshell, which is regarded with special
veneration by West African natives, for the tortoise is supposed
to be a beast of exceptional wisdom. After this he is taken to the
lodge of the society, which is ornamented for the occasion with
palm leaves and other foliage. He then has marks cut on his back
in the shape of triangles, with the apex on the spine and the base
on the ribs. Circles are also cut on his breast.
The members of Poro are summoned by a messenger bearing a branch of
a tree, on which are tied a number of pieces of stick. The number of
these sticks denotes the number of days to elapse before the meeting
will be held. Kola nuts are used as symbols of peace and war. Two red
kolas signify war, whereas a white nut broken in two indicates peace.
Another curious custom which exists among the Mendis is that many
families claim to belong to different species of animals. Many say
they are of the bird family; these will not eat eggs. Again, others
claiming to be descended from crocodiles will not kill these animals.
Another secret society is the Bundu. This has for its object the
education of young girls. The teachers are mature women who instruct
the students in the duties they will have to perform as wives and
mothers. This society is a very old one. Every village has a Bundu
Bush in the same way as it has a Poro Bush. Men are not allowed to
enter under pain of death. There are many other societies of a more
or less religious nature, but these are the most important. Women
are regarded as of small consequence by these people. They are made
to work in the farm and cook food for the husband while he remains
idle. When a man wants a wife he goes to the parents and haggles
over the price to be paid. In Sierra Leone a wife costs £3 to £4,
but the price varies a good deal. The sum is paid in the presence
of witnesses and the woman becomes his wife. Polygamy is the rule
among pagans as well as among Mohammedans. The wife has no rights;
the husband can flog her or maltreat her without the woman having
any chance of redress. Girls are married at twelve, and in many
cases even at nine and ten.
On the 10th of January I left Mafindo, crossing the picturesque
Moa River. The inhabitants were now Kissis. The river is crossed in
dug-out canoes; these canoes are simply made from the trunk of a tree
which is roughly hewn out in the hollow form of a boat. In the hands
of a native these cumbersome and untrustworthy-looking craft are
most handy in the West African rivers. The boatman manipulates his
canoe with a single paddle, which serves not only to urge it forward,
but also to steer it. I must own that I never feel very safe in a
dug-out. One has to sit uncommonly still for fear of capsizing,
and an immersion in the swift current of the crocodile-infested
streams of this region would be a far from agreeable experience.
The Kissis have three different masters, as a portion of their
country lies in Liberia, and yet another portion is under French
jurisdiction in Guinea. The Kissis are a war-like tribe, who have
given a good deal of trouble to the British Government. They were
constantly at war with their neighbours in Sierra Leone, the Mendis
and the Konnohs. They also joined King Samory’s Sofas in 1891, and
raided the protectorate. Their power was finally crushed in 1905 by
an expedition carried out by the Sierra Leone Battalion of the West
African Frontier Force. A great deal of the Kissy country is under
cultivation, for they are good and economical farmers. In their farms
are to be seen flourishing crops of rice, maize, and beniseed. Their
villages are badly kept, and the houses are very small and dirty.
The following day we crossed the Meli River, which separates Kissy
country from the Konnoh tribe. Transport across this river is
done by a still more hazardous method than on the Moa River—on
rafts. These rafts are made of roughly-hewn logs, lashed together
with “Tie-tie.” “Tie-tie” consists of supple creepers,
growing in profusion in the bush, which are most useful in a country
where no rope is available. One’s baggage is first deposited on
the raft, forming a dry and fairly steady platform. After this the
passenger climbs warily on to the top of his worldly possessions,
seating himself cautiously so as not to upset the somewhat delicate
equilibrium of the craft. The raft is worked by a native with a long
pole, who directs its unsteady course from the stern end. If you
have any holes or weak spots in your boxes this method of transport
will unfailingly find them out. Water rushes through the wide gaps
between the logs of the raft, and miniature waves frequently wash
over the platform.
Konnoh country is decidedly mountainous. It is intersected by broken
ranges of hills, rising to a height of nearly 3000 feet above the
sea. The valleys between these ranges are covered with grass-land,
the haunts of “bushcow,” as the small West African buffalo is
termed. The Konnohs are an offshoot of the great tribe of Mandingoes,
which inhabits a vast stretch of land from the Middle Niger to
the Gambia. Their country was devastated by the Sofas about 1890,
consequently a large number of the people were exterminated or taken
into slavery. Peace now reigns, however, and the people are regaining
confidence and the population is increasing. Mohammedanism is
making rapid progress among them, although a large number are still
pagans. Missionaries are scarce in these parts; during my travels
I do not recollect seeing a single Christian among these people.
In the village where I stayed that night I saw what is an unusual
sight in Sierra Leone, a horse, or, to be strictly accurate, a
small and weedy-looking pony. The proud owner was the chief, whose
dignity and authority were considerably augmented by the possession
of this quadruped. The disease called “Trypnasomiasis,” conveyed
by the tsetse fly, is very prevalent in the protectorate, and is
fatal to horses and cattle. It is, however, extremely local, certain
districts being quite free from its ravages. This probably accounts
for the fact that cattle can often live where horses cannot, for
cattle never wander very far, thus possibly not getting into the
infected area, whereas horses naturally cover greater distances
and would be more likely to pass through a tsetse fly zone.