Faranah — The Malinkés — Castes — Big game on the Mafou
River — Native methods of hunting — Trapping — Ground nuts
— The native trader — Kouroussa — Native types — French
gardens — Native dances — Beehives — Fruit.
BY the 22nd of January, the date of our arrival at Faranah, I had so
far recovered as to be able to walk a few miles each day. My usual
plan was to walk in the early morning until the sun got oppressive,
when I retired to the hammock until about eleven. About this hour I
used to halt in a shady spot, by a stream, and have my breakfast
while the carriers cooked their food and rested. A halt till
two or three o’clock gave my “boy” time to prepare my meal
and to have his own food and a rest before we again set out. On
one of these occasions, just after I had halted, I noticed the
unusual spectacle of two Europeans in hammocks with a number of
carriers coming towards me. One of the two proved to be a lady,
while the other was her husband. They stopped, and we had a few
minutes’ conversation. They were on their way to Kissidougou,
a large French post in the south of Guinea. He was the director of
the telegraphs, and they had but lately arrived from France. The
lady had the characteristic vivacity and charm of her countrywomen;
she was nursing a young bushfowl which they had picked up on the
road, and which had hurt its leg. The poor little bird’s bright
eyes wore a terrified look, but this soon began to disappear under
the gentle treatment of its kind mistress. The lady had never been
out of her native land previously, and was much interested in the
strange sights of West African bush life.
Faranah is the first place of any size and importance on the
Niger. It consists of a native population of about 2000, and a
dozen Frenchmen. The native town lies in a hollow, close to the
banks of the river, while the Residency and European quarter are
on a hill above. Faranah does a small trade in rubber and cattle,
most of which are sent down to the coast port of Konakry. There is a
caravanserai, or rest-house, in the town. This useful construction
is found in nearly every village of any size in French Guinea,
and is a great boon to the traveller. The headman of the place is
charged with the duty of keeping it clean, and as it is constantly
inspected by a French official, the house is usually in the best
of order. The houses at Faranah are built of mud, with walls about
two feet thick, and thatched roofs. They are very cool in the hot
weather, but are rather cold and draughty in the rainy season,
when it is a good plan to light a fire in the middle of your room.
At Faranah I stayed with the French District Commissioner, who was
a most hospitable and courteous host. Here I was delighted to be
able to discard my hammock, as my knee was nearly healed. A two
days’ halt was necessary to collect fresh carriers, and to get
information of the shooting prospects in front of me.
My intention had been to march as rapidly as possible to Kouroussa,
and strike eastward from that place into the Wasulu country, which
lies between the Niger and the Ivory Coast. At Faranah, however,
I was informed that there was some excellent shooting to be had on
the Mafou River, a tributary of the Niger, which is crossed on the
road to Kouroussa. I therefore determined to halt at this stream
on my way, and sample the big-game shooting in the vicinity.
On the 24th, bidding good-bye to my kind hosts, I set out. The
road follows within a few miles of the Niger, which here takes
a north-easterly course. The country is rather thick bush, but is
well populated. Villages occur every three or four miles most of the
way. The people who inhabit this part of French Guinea are Malinkés,
and they are dark of complexion and stoutly built. They are a higher
type than the coast negro, having probably intermarried with the
Fulanis, to whom they no doubt owe their more regular features and
thinner lips. They are chiefly an agricultural people, but are not
fond of work in any form. The majority of them are Mussulmans.
The king of the tribe is called the “Alimamy.” He has a large
court, chiefly composed of his relations, who all expect to profit,
either directly or indirectly, by their position. They are the
channel of communication between him and his people. His council is
composed of the headmen of the villages, and rich native traders.
The council decides all matters of dispute with other tribes. The
decision for making peace or war rests with them, and, in the event
of the king’s death it is this body who elects the new Alimamy.
Villages are organized on the same lines, each village having a
chief, assisted by his council of influential villagers. The tribe
is divided into two portions, those who are free, and those who
are captives.
The free portion of each tribe is again divided into five castes:
(1) The Horos, who are citizens.
(2) The Sohrés, weavers.
(3) The Garangis, or shoemakers.
(4) The Hrabis, or blacksmiths.
(5) The Yellimanis, or jesters.
The Horos are the only class from which chiefs and headmen can be
selected. They are the predominant caste, and all the others are
their menials.
Horos can only marry in their own class. The other people can marry
amongst themselves as they please.
The Hrabis are looked on with great contempt, corresponding in
caste to the sweeper class of India. It is uncertain what was the
origin of this, but there is a story connected with Mohammed and
a blacksmith which probably accounts for it. It is said that the
Prophet was once pursued by some infidels, and concealed himself in
the trunk of a tree near the spot where a blacksmith was at work.
The latter was on the point of betraying Mohammed’s hiding-place
when he was struck blind by God. Mohammed, when he issued from the
tree, is supposed to have cursed the blacksmith and all his kind.
The Yellimanis are a very obnoxious class. They spend their time
in abusing those who do not give them any money, while they sing
the praises of their patrons. Every chief has an entourage of
these jesters. They are often equipped with musical instruments,
and form a sort of band which precedes him wherever he goes.
Families have always some animal which is their particular aversion,
or evil spirit. It may be a lion, or leopard, or crocodile, or some
such beast. For example, it is supposed that if a man’s evil genius
was a crocodile, and he should eat some of this animal’s flesh,
it would give him some terrible skin disease, such as leprosy.
The captives, or slaves, are of course not now officially recognized
by the French. Any man who is a slave can at once obtain his freedom
by applying to the nearest Commissioner. It shows how contented
these captives usually are with their lot, when it is noticed
that they very rarely ask to be made free. They are well treated,
are not hard worked, and get free board and lodging. These slaves
were taken from various tribes during the intertribal warfare which
raged in this part of West Africa for many years. In most cases
these people have quite forgotten the country of their origin,
and are perfectly content to remain with their masters. A slave,
when he has gained his freedom, can be permitted to join any of the
above-mentioned castes, or may marry into any of them. His position
is therefore superior to that of a Hrabi. The captive lives with the
members of the family, and is in every way treated as one of them.
On the 26th of January I arrived at the Mafou River, where I had
great hopes of getting some elephant. These animals were reported by
the natives to come down here at this time of year. On the river
there was a certain palm of which they were very fond. Native
information is, of course, frequently the only kind available,
but it is also far from reliable. The negro, when interrogated,
will give the answer that comes easiest to him, and will usually say
what he thinks will most please you. So I was far from placing too
much faith in their reports. Having procured two native hunters,
I sent them out to get news of the whereabouts of the elephant,
and in the meantime decided to try my luck with a third hunter after
waterbuck and kob, of which I had seen traces in the neighbourhood.
The banks of the Mafou River are swampy and the ideal home of kob.
Here I managed to secure a fine beast, with the best head I had
yet shot in West Africa. Pleased with my day’s sport I returned
to my camp at the village that afternoon, hoping to get some good
news from my hunters. I was therefore much disappointed to be told
that the elephant had not been seen in that district for some weeks,
and the tracks seen by the hunters were at least a month old. I had
myself that morning seen elephant tracks, close to a place where
they had evidently been in the habit of bathing in the Mafou River.
These tracks were likewise some weeks old. As there seemed no
prospect of elephant in the neighbourhood, I decided to follow my
original plan of pushing on with as little delay as possible to
the Wasulu country.
The next day I continued my journey to Kouroussa. It was always my
custom to set out in the morning, just before daylight, and to have
a start of about half an hour on my carriers. In this way one often
got a chance of a shot at game while it was feeding within range
of the bush path, and had not been disturbed by passers-by. I used
to wear boots with noiseless soles, finding this a good plan for
enabling me to approach without being heard. A bush path is a very
sinuous affair as a rule, and it frequently happens that one suddenly
turns a corner and comes in sight of game, quite as unaware of the
proximity of man as you are of its presence. One morning, while
walking thus ahead of my carriers, I suddenly espied a small duiker
dart across the road, and was fortunate enough to get a snapshot at
it before it disappeared into the bush. It proved to be a “crowned
duiker,” a beautiful little animal, only fifteen inches high. This
small antelope is of a bright yellowish fawn colour, with remarkably
long and pointed ears. The tail was short and blackish, more like
the tail of most oribis. The horns were very small and delicate,
but this little beast is uncommon, so my delight at securing it
was great; moreover, I had never before seen it wild. The habit of
all duikers is to conceal themselves in the bush, consequently one
does not often see them unless a drive is organized, and this to
me always appears rather an unsportsmanlike procedure.
This little antelope derives its name “crowned” from the dainty
crownlike tuft on the top of its head. The duiker probably falls a
victim, more than any other kind of antelope, to the native hunter.
His method of killing game is distinctly brutal. When the bush is
ready to be burnt, a number of hunters collect together and proceed
with the boys of the village to the scene selected for the sport.
The hunters line up at a suitable place, on a path, down-wind. The
boys are sent to drive the game in the direction of this path
out of the bush. Their procedure is as follows: each person being
equipped with a tomtom, an old tin, or some similar article capable
of producing a noise, sets to work to make a tremendous din. At the
same time the grass is set on fire. The unfortunate animals in the
bush, scared out of their senses, dash the only way open to them,
viz. towards the path on which are the hunters. As they appear, at
a range of a dozen yards or less, they are received with a volley
of scraps of old metal, iron nails and sharp stones, fired from the
flint-lock guns of the sportsmen. The din is deafening, missiles
are flying in all directions, and the carnage amongst the luckless
little beasts is great. At the same time the shooting is decidedly
wild, and it is a matter of congratulation that this is the case,
for the slaughter is not so terrible as it would otherwise be. It is
a marvel that these people do not often kill one another by their
wild shooting. It is true occasionally a maimed native is seen who
admits that he has been crippled in this manner, but on the whole
the casualties are not so large as might be expected.
[Illustration: BARO VILLAGE IN THE KOUROUSSA DISTRICT OF FRENCH
GUINEA
The people of this district suffered very severely in the Sofa
wars. King Samory spread fire and sword throughout the land, and
carried off many of the people into slavery. The inhabitants of
Baro have only returned and rebuilt their houses in recent years.
They have the downtrodden, low-spirited nature of men who have
lived many years in captivity.]
Another favourite method of killing game is by trapping it. The
ordinary form of trap is a long barricade of sticks and palm leaves,
built up to a height of several feet. At intervals in this hedge
there are narrow openings, with a running noose cunningly concealed
on the far side. A drive is organized and the animals are frightened
through the bush in the direction of this barricade. On finding
the openings they naturally endeavour to escape by them, but are
caught by the noose as they struggle through. Traps of this nature
are set for birds, as well as other small game. These barricades
are frequently built as much as a mile long. Yet another form of
trap I have often met with is simply a pit, dug to a depth of six
or seven feet, at the bottom of which is planted a stake, having
the sharpened end sticking vertically upwards, ready to impale the
unfortunate animal which falls upon it.
The pits are usually covered over with leaves, and are thus invisible
to the unsuspecting victim. These snares are often as dangerous to
strangers as to game, on account of this invisibility, and it is
dangerous to wander in the bush of a hunting country without a local
guide. On one occasion one of my porters strayed away from camp after
dark. In the morning he was not forthcoming to carry his load when
all was ready for the start. A comrade suddenly recollected that he
had gone towards the bush the previous night, and it transpired that
he had not since been seen. Search parties were at once organized
and despatched in search of him. After some time they returned with
a very pitiable-looking object, whose clothes were torn, and whose
nether garments were smeared in blood. This proved to be the lost
carrier. He had fallen into a hunter’s pit some distance from camp,
and all his cries for help had not been heard. Fortunately he was
more frightened than hurt, and certainly profited by his experience,
for he never wandered into strange bush again!
We had now left the belt of oil-palm country behind. The chief
product of this district was rubber. The rubber is here the product
of the rubber vine, and is seen in some quantities growing in the
bush. But the majority of the rubber of French Guinea is grown in
the east of the colony.
In the farms one notices particularly rice, maize and ground
nuts. The latter is a pretty little plant with a small yellow
flower. The nuts themselves grow on the roots in the ground,
something after the fashion of a potato. The fruit is ripe after
the plant has flowered. On one plant will be found as many as fifty
nuts. They are much relished as a form of diet by the native, while
the oil of the nut is a valuable thin oil, much used in Europe for
making fine soaps, scents, and as a dressing similar to salad oil.
In the bush it is of the greatest use as a lamp oil, but must
first be purified by straining through a thin cloth. For about
three months I used nothing else, and found the light as good as
that of a kerosene lamp.
The trader one encounters in the bush is the native trader, called
the “Dioula.” The European trader is only met with on the coast,
or in the biggest markets of the interior. The term Dioula merits a
word of explanation. These people are supposed to have originally
been wandering Mohammedan merchants, but now the term applies to
any travelling trader. The Dioula is a very thrifty individual,
usually commencing life in a most humble way. He probably leaves his
village with only a few francs in his pocket, which he exchanges
at a suitable opportunity for some article of commerce, such as
salt. He then travels a bit nearer to the coast, exchanging his
salt for rubber or perhaps ground nuts. This process he continues,
constantly bartering one article for another, until he finally
reaches the coast. Here he purchases cloth, or some such European
goods, and works his way back to the interior, bartering as he
goes. These traders often accumulate quite big fortunes by their
keen business instincts.
Kouroussa lies on a bare open plateau, overlooking the Niger. It
is the centre of the district of the same name, and is increasing
in size and importance daily. The cause of its growth is the Guinea
Railway, emanating from the coast port of Konakry, and destined to
reach Kouroussa in a very short time. The total length of this line
will be about 400 miles. The object of the railway is to tap the
trade of the Futa Jallon region, and the fertile country on the
banks of the Niger. As the Niger is more or less navigable from
Kouroussa for canoes and quite small lighters, this will also open
out a line of communication from the interior of the Soudan and
French Guinea to the coast.
When I arrived at Kouroussa I went to pay my respects to the
Commissioner. I found him contemplating a ruined building with
a rueful eye. It was all that remained of his house. When I had
introduced myself to him he proceeded to explain that the previous
night his house had been burnt to the ground. The act was attributed
to the spite of a native, who had been punished by him for some
misdemeanour. Unfortunately it was difficult to collect proof
against the man, and it appeared as if he would escape from the
hands of justice. The people of this town are a strange mixture of
several tribes. At or near this point three great races meet—the
Susus, from South-Western Guinea, the Malinkés, from the south of
the colony, and the Fulanis, from Futa Jallon, in the west. The
consequence is that a hybrid race formed by the intermarriage of
these different clans has sprung up. The natives are perhaps a
higher class than the ordinary negro of Guinea. They inherit from
the Fulanis a finer type of features, thinner lips and more aquiline
noses. Their hair, however, remains woolly, and stamps them as
undoubtedly negroid. They are chiefly agriculturists. Some, however,
are cattle-men, owning considerable herds. They are distinctly lazy;
this, perhaps, is hardly to be wondered at, as their country is
fruitful and it needs but little work to get a living out of the
soil. Besides, a man need only gather a small quantity of rubber
in the bush to gain a livelihood.
At Kouroussa the French officials have a fine garden. Almost every
kind of European vegetable is grown by them. The garden is personally
supervised by one of the officers, who has a large number of native
gardeners under his orders. From one year’s end to another they
are never without some sort of vegetables. The garden is planted
on the banks of the Niger, so that a constant supply of water is
available. There is also a well-stocked fruit plantation, where one
can enjoy a variety of tropical fruits such as oranges, pomegranates,
bananas, etc. The French show a particular aptitude for gardening,
and it was a point which struck me very forcibly that in almost every
station where there was a European, a good garden would be found. On
one evening of my stay at Kouroussa I witnessed the interesting and
rather weird spectacle of a native dance. This particular dance was
performed by some young girls, to the accompaniment of much tomtoming
and cheering from the assembled throng of admiring onlookers.
These girls were dressed in short skirts, much resembling a
ballet-dancer’s skirt, but made out of a sort of bulrush very
common in these parts. The bodice was a brightly coloured native
cloth, twisted gracefully round the breast and waist. On the head
was worn a bonnet of plumes of various hues. We were escorted to
the place of honour by the side of the chief, who then clapped his
hands as a sign for the performance to commence. The spectators were
thronged in a circle round him, many being provided with tomtoms
and musical instruments of all descriptions.
At the given signal the dancers dashed into the ring, joining hands
and advancing with a graceful swinging step towards the chief, the
tomtoms all this time playing a slow measure. The music gradually
became faster and faster, while the dancers increased their pace
in unison with it. Turning and twisting their lithe bodies, they
now retired, at every step the music waxing faster and their pace
becoming more frenzied. This performance was repeated many times,
until the pace was so rapid and the dancers had got so exhausted as
to no longer be able to keep time with the music. At this moment
they flung themselves on the ground before the chief and the
tomtoms simultaneously ceased beating. It appeared evident that it
was now we were expected to show our appreciation of the skill of
the dancing-girls, so we rewarded each one with a small coin, after
which they retired. Similar dances were executed by individual girls;
in several cases they displayed remarkable agility and grace in
their movements. The spectators were untiring in their tomtoming and
applause, and it was evident that this dance was a most popular one.
Dancing is a very favourite amusement among West African
natives. Every tribe has its special dances, some of which are
far from graceful according to our ideas. There is, however, an
undeniable fascination in seeing these weird black figures leaping
and pirouetting in their picturesque costumes, with the strange
glow of the firelight casting mysterious shadows on them as they
move backwards and forwards.
In the vicinity of Kouroussa the natives keep a number of
beehives. These hives are frequently seen stuck up in high trees.
They are made out of reeds bound in the form of a hollow cylinder,
having the ends closed with plastered mud. One of these mud doors
has a hole in the centre, providing an entrance and exit for the
bees. The negro has a great liking for sweet things, so a quantity
of this honey is consumed. Before it can be eaten by the European
it must be strained through a piece of muslin, as it is exceedingly
dirty. When properly cleaned, however, it is excellent.
Wild fruit is scarce, and in any case should be partaken of with
great caution, as there are several poisonous varieties. There is
a kind of wild plum which is fairly common in this part of French
Guinea and has a pleasant flavour. Occasionally wild bananas and
pawpaws are met with; they almost invariably indicate the site of
an old, abandoned village.