Hippopotami — Game in the Wasulu country — Lazy carriers — In
pursuit of elephants — Fetish haartebeest — “Red” elephants
— A fetish altar — Braimah’s juju — Charms and tests.
AT Falama I found the two hunters I had engaged for my shooting
expedition. They were the head hunters of the district, one of
them being a man from the big hunting village of Dialakoro, who was
reputed to know every yard of the game haunts in the Wasulu country,
so it was with high hopes of good sport that I began to talk over
plans with these two local celebrities. The Sankarani River runs in
a semicircle round the village of Falama, at a distance varying from
one to three miles from the place. I was informed that there was a
hippopotamus pool in the river, so I decided to bend my steps thither
that afternoon, on the chance of getting a hippo and also with a
view to seeing the nature of the country from a shooting standpoint.
Taking Braimah, the expert from Dialakoro, with me I set out about
3 p.m. We traversed a patch of grass-country, in which I saw traces
of kob and waterbuck, for about a couple of miles before reaching
the river. Braimah led me to a well-worn hippo path in some rather
thick undergrowth near the river-bank, on the off-chance of finding
a hippo on land. After twisting and winding for some time in this
thicket, I heard the movements of a ponderous body in front of
us. This was without doubt the beast we were hunting, and sure
enough in a few minutes, after some careful stalking through the
bush, I caught sight of him. He was within fifty yards, and had just
turned broadside on to listen, with his piglike eyes looking in our
direction. His massive form was plainly outlined at that distance,
as fortunately the bush was a little thinner here. A shot from my
·450 rifle rolled him over, hitting him in the heart. After this we
made our way to the pool, taking up a concealed position on the river
bank. Three or four hippos shortly appeared, frolicking in the clear,
cool water of the pool. For some time I lay in the shady refuge of
the bushes, watching their playful antics. It was an amusing sight
to see these huge monsters gradually and lazily raising their big
heads out of the water, until finally with a snort the whole head
was thrust out to full view, when, after drawing a deep breath, they
would suddenly disappear beneath the calm waters of the stream. After
for some time watching this pretty scene and regretting I had not
brought my camera, I decided to have a shot at a big bull who was
in the party. The best shot at a hippo in the water is one directed
at his nostrils, which can be seen when he thus raises his head.
Consequently the next time my friend appeared I fired at this spot.
It took three shots before I was satisfied I had killed him, and
then I turned away rather disgusted with the sport, for hippos are
harmless creatures and the amusement derived from shooting them
does not give one much satisfaction.
I have heard some men give the hippo credit for being vicious,
but personally I am of opinion that he will never wilfully harm
anyone. It is true they have been known frequently to overturn canoes
on a river, but I cannot help thinking that, when this does occur,
it is purely an accident, for the hippo is very blind and it is quite
conceivable that he may often raise his big head just underneath
a canoe without being aware of the latter’s presence. On leaving
the pool we soon picked up the tracks of a herd of kob, which had
recently passed that way. There was still an hour and a half before
dark, so I decided to follow them. We were now once more in the open
grass-land where the grass had been burnt in patches. Proceeding
cautiously up-wind, for these antelopes have a very keen sense of
hearing and smell, we espied the herd peacefully grazing in the
distance. After a careful stalk of 400 or 500 yards I managed to
secure a fair-sized male. It was now nearly dark, so we proceeded
towards camp. Parties were sent out to bring in the meat of the
first hippo and of the kob, and all the village was full of joy at
the prospect of plenty of “beef.”
The second hippo would have to be left till the following day,
for they sink when shot and the bodies do not float for about
twenty-four hours. A message was sent to the fishermen down-stream
to look out for the animal, and to bring it in as soon as it was
found. They were to have the meat on condition they brought me the
tusks, an arrangement which pleased everybody!
I had arranged with my hunters to proceed the next day to a place
called Doulajan, sixteen miles east, where they reported that
I would be in the centre of the elephant country. As my chief
object in visiting the Wasulu country was to hunt elephant, and
my time was limited, I was anxious to reach this locality as soon
as practicable. That day, after making my plans, I had already
despatched the second hunter to Doulajan to get all news of the
elephants’ whereabouts at that time and to meet me on my arrival
at camp, or as soon after as possible.
The next morning, as we set out, my heart was light at the prospects
of some really good sport, for I had every reason to believe I was
within easy reach of the elephant, and from all accounts there were
some fine tuskers among them.
That day, however, was doomed to be a day of annoyance and
disappointment. Leaving my carriers to follow by the ordinary road,
I and Braimah were to leave before dawn by a small hunters’ track,
known only to himself, which would lead us through a favourite
haunt of waterbuck. I ordered my “boy” to meet me at a place
where the two paths crossed, at eleven for breakfast.
After a very hot and disappointing walk, during which I saw not a
single trace of waterbuck, we arrived at the place where I proposed
to breakfast. My carriers and servant had not arrived, so I got a
hut swept out by the chief and composed myself for a little sleep. I
was feeling fatigued, after the early start and the heat of the day,
so I slept for some hours and woke to find it was three o’clock
and still no sign of my carriers. I began to be uneasy that some
might have run away and could not be replaced. I was also by this
time uncommonly hungry, and decided to get some food from the chief
and then set out with Braimah to look for my “boy” Mamadu.
After a refreshing meal of fresh milk and pawpaw, I felt fortified
once more and departed with my hunter in quest of the missing
carriers and “boy.” We had gone three or four miles, I suppose,
when I heard a chattering proceeding from a tree close to the path
just in front of us. On turning a corner we came into full view
of Mamadu, the carriers and the loads all under a shady tree. The
men seemed to be enjoying themselves vastly and not to be in the
least concerned about me! My wrath can be more easily imagined than
described at the spectacle thus disclosed. Here had I been waiting
several hours for these lazy scoundrels and imagining all sorts of
disasters that might have befallen them, when all the time they were
simply loafing and enjoying a rest on the roadside. They jumped up
pretty sharply on my appearance, and proceeded to place their loads
on their heads. Mamadu was of course full of excuses to account for
the delay, but I fear he so perjured himself as to lose any chance
of a seat in heaven. The most annoying feature of the business was
that I should not now be able to reach my shooting-camp at Doulajan
that night. And it appeared that the only reason for all this delay
was that my servant might enjoy his silly habit of chattering!
It was quite dark when we reached the village where I should have
breakfasted, and here another disappointment awaited me. The hunter
I had sent to Doulajan had arrived with news, as I hoped, of the
elephant. His information was distinctly disheartening. He stated
that some hunters from the south of Wasulu had been among the herd a
few days previously and had driven them some distance east of their
previous feeding-ground. In fact, he stated that it was rumoured
the animals had gone almost to Odienné, which I knew to be five
or six days’ march from Doulajan. The only thing to be done was
to go on to Doulajan next day and follow up the elephants if there
seemed any chance of overtaking them within a reasonable time.
The place I selected for my camp was on the banks of a small stream,
about five miles from the village of Doulajan. Here I pitched my
tent, which had hardly as yet come into requisition. The spot was
a delightful shady place, which seemed a veritable haunt of wild
game, judging by the numerous tracks of animals coming down to
drink at the stream hard by. I had procured a third local hunter,
and now sent two men off to get more definite news of the elephant,
while I kept one with me for shooting purposes near my camp.
These hunters are strongly imbued with ideas of fetish. Braimah
had a long flint-lock gun of which he was inordinately proud. To a
native his gun is an object more to be cherished than his child. He
carries it with him everywhere, even when going to his peaceful
farm where there is no danger from man nor the likelihood of his
seeing any wild beast. This particular gun was decorated with every
imaginable sort of “juju,” or fetish charms. Panthers’ claws,
lions’ teeth, antelope horns and pieces of waterbuck’s hide
adorned the stock. The butt had a piece of elephant tail freely
smeared in the blood of the wild boar tied upon it. The latter
animal is particularly venerated for the good luck it is supposed
to bring to the sportsman.
Our camp was on more than one occasion visited by the wild beasts
of the neighbourhood. Leopards and hyenas were fairly numerous
here, while the deep musical roar of the lion was frequently heard
resounding through the bush at night.
One morning as I was making my toilet preparatory to an early
start on a hunting trip, I saw the beautiful sight of a herd of
about fifteen West African haartebeest coming down to drink at
the stream. My attention was at first attracted by hearing the
thundering of many hoofs on the stony ground outside the camp.
Rifle in hand I cautiously crept out of my tent, and soon they came
into full view, never suspecting the near presence of man, for our
camp was well concealed in the trees and they did not get our wind.
There is something awe-inspiring to my mind at the spectacle of wild
animals when they are unaware of the proximity of man and are seen
thus in their native haunts. Game is always most beautiful when it
is most natural and unalarmed. It makes one feel a brute to shoot
it, thereby destroying the life of a fine creature.
The West African haartebeest here were the best I saw during my
travels, and I secured two very good heads. These animals were
numerous in the Wasulu country, herds of twelve or fifteen being
frequently seen, although I never saw them in larger numbers than
this. This animal is, I suppose, quite the most clumsy-looking of all
West African antelopes, its curious, ill-shaped head and lumbering
gait reminding one more of a donkey than any other animal. I spent
three days thus and enjoyed some good sport with antelope. During
my expeditions I used to come across tracks of elephant fairly
often. These appeared to be at least a month old, and I began to
doubt the veracity of the statement that these animals had been seen
here more recently than that. It seemed to me evident that they had
retired towards the better watered country in the direction of the
Ivory Coast forest some considerable time previously.
The dry season was now in full swing and streams in the Wasulu
district were drying up rapidly. I observed two distinctly different
kinds of tracks. One lot appeared to be those of the ordinary
elephant, while the other lot seemed to belong to a smaller species
of that beast. On discussing the matter with my hunter he confirmed
my theory by stating that the smaller tracks were those of a herd of
the “red” elephant. This animal I had never yet seen, but had
heard it mentioned for the first time by some French friends. At
Faranah they had again told me of its existence. So I was very
eager to get a specimen. The elephant appears to be of a reddish
grey hue, probably terra-cotta would be a better description, and
to the best of my belief is peculiar to this region, although as I
never saw one, nor could I even see the skin of one in the district,
I am not in a position to give any more authentic information on the
point. It has the reputation of being very fierce, and is said to
charge without provocation, but I am inclined to believe this is an
exaggeration. It is certainly a good deal smaller than the ordinary
African elephant, and carries quite small tusks by all accounts.
That day my two hunters returned, and much to my disappointment
their reports of the elephant were most discouraging, and made
me only more certain that the animals had left our vicinity some
time back, which would make my chance of ever coming up with them
exceedingly remote. The same evening I got news, however, from the
chief of Doulajan that he had heard on the most reliable authority
that the herd had been seen at a place three days’ march from our
camp, close to Odienné. I at once determined to proceed there on
the chance of there being some truth in the yarn, although I must
confess that I was not very sanguine as to the success of my quest.
Striking camp at an early hour in the morning, we marched for
three days through a more wooded country, gradually verging into
forest-land. Tracks of elephant were numerous, but these were by
no means fresh. Finally, I was forced to abandon the enterprise,
for I was daily getting farther and farther from my northerly route,
and could afford no more time to spend in hunting in this country.
The dense forest we were now in reminded me how extremely
difficult it is to see these huge beasts in country of this nature.
I recollect once when tracking a large herd from an early hour
until late in the afternoon, through a swampy country, I had quite
lost all traces of them and began to despair of finding them again.
I was on the point of turning homewards, but thought I would first
cross a neighbouring swamp to have some lunch on the opposite bank,
which appeared dry. Being on the point of sitting down I suddenly
observed what appeared to be a moving leaf. On closer inspection
it proved to be the ear of an elephant not more than twenty yards
away and concealed in the foliage. A little manœuvring resulted
in a successful stalk, and the animal, which was a fine tusker,
was bagged. These beasts, although not actually deaf, get so
accustomed to forest sounds that they had never heard our somewhat
noisy approach across the swamp.
My plan was to return to Falama on the Sankarani River, where I had
arranged for fresh carriers to meet me, and from thence to proceed
to Bamako by the shortest route. The hunting villages which are
passed in this district gave a very fair indication of the game to
be found in the neighbourhood. It is the custom to erect outside the
village a high altar, built up with the horns of antelope and the
skulls of almost every conceivable beast shot by the local hunting
people. This altar is erected for fetish purposes, the heads being
allowed to remain there till they rot. The native hunter has no
sense of sport as we look upon it. He kills wild animals primarily
for the meat he will get, and, as trophies of the chase, horns and
skins have no value in his eyes. Some of the more dangerous animals
may sometimes be hunted for the danger involved in attacking them,
but even then it is done more out of bravado than from the love
and excitement of the sport.
One of my hunters had a native flute which he would play at night in
camp to amuse himself and his companions. The instrument is a very
simple one, made out of a reed-cane, having a few holes punched in
it to form the notes, and a roughly shaped mouthpiece. The music is
melancholy, and by no means disagreeable. He was a lithely built,
active fellow, making a picturesque figure as he sat in the glow
of the firelight playing strange native melodies on his instrument.
Braimah had a greater weakness for “Juju” than the others. His
chief care, after seeing to his gun before our start every morning,
was to find out if Diana intended to favour our sport that day. The
method adopted to carry out this test was a curious one. The only
things necessary to work the charm were two kola nuts. His procedure
was as follows:
A kola was taken in each hand and some mystic words were then
muttered over them, the gist of which was, as far as I could
understand, something like this: “May the God of the Chase grant
me good fortune, and may he cause these two kolas to point towards
me.”
The kolas were then thrown in the air, and the way in which they
landed on the ground decided the luck that was going to be his that
day. If the two kolas fell with their ends both pointing towards
the thrower all would be well. On the other hand, if the kolas,
when they reached the earth, had the pointed ends turned away from
Braimah, then the God of Hunting was full of wrath and would not be
appeased that day. If one nut was pointing towards him and the other
in the inverse direction, the operation had to be repeated three
times before a definite decision could be arrived at. It must be
explained for the benefit of those who have never seen a kola nut
that one end is more pointed than the other. The shape of the nut
resembles that of a Brazil nut, a sort of pyramid on a triangular
base, and the colour is either white or pink.
Braimah’s trick, I noticed, often did not give a correct forecast
of the day’s performances. When I tackled him on this point he
always had some ready excuse on his tongue, and I never succeeded
in shaking his conviction of the infallibility of the charm. As a
matter of fact, a native has such a strongly rooted belief in his
various fetishes and superstitions that it seems quite impossible
ever to shake it. Of course, in many cases, when fetishes are in
the hands of “medicine-men,” these people are so crafty that
the particular charm they are working appears never to fail. I
have in mind the charm used for the purpose of testing adultery
among certain tribes. In this case the accused is told to drink
a mixture made of the infusion of leaves of the cotton tree and
some other ingredients, the reasoning being that if he drinks
it and vomits he is innocent, but if he is guilty he will die in
agonies. As a matter of fact, the result is a foregone conclusion,
for if the “medicine-man” wishes the death of his victim he
merely puts a little deadly poison into the concoction, thereby
producing the desired result, while the natural property of the
mixture is to make the imbiber vomit. This performance is carried
out in the midst of the congregated villagers, so that the effect
produced on their ignorant and superstitious minds is tremendous.
If the accused man is rich, he can generally buy his innocence by
a judicious bribe paid to the “medicine-man.” Fetish priests
wield great power over the people in West Africa. Their influence
is in a way similar to that of the “Mullahs” in the East among
Mohammedans. The latter stir up the people to mad religious fervour
by their frenzied preachings in much the same manner that the fetish
priest excites the minds of his hearers.