Bamako — The Bambaras — An animated scene — The Kati Plateau
— Dinner with the Governor — Government House — Game in the
“Bend” of the Niger — The Senegal-Niger Railway — Bamako
market — The hotel.
THE first sight of Bamako to the traveller is, indeed, a strange
one. After walking through miles upon miles of bush and seeing
nothing more imposing than a native village, one suddenly is amazed
to behold a fine large town, with wide boulevards and solidly built
stone houses, nestling close to the foot of the Kati Escarpment,
with the placid waters of the Niger flowing past the east end of
the cantonment. Bamako is planned on the lines of a town in France,
and when walking down one of the shady avenues I could have imagined
myself in a provincial French town on a hot summer’s day. Bamako
is the capital of the “Upper Senegal and Niger Colony,” and the
head-quarters of the Lieutenant-Governor and Administration. The
European population is a large one. It includes no less than fifteen
trading firms, each of which has several French employés. There
are a very large number of officials, and several of the staff of
the Senegal-Niger Railway. A number of these gentlemen bring their
wives to the country.
When I was at Bamako there were about a dozen ladies, who were very
excited at the prospect of a fancy-dress ball which was to take
place shortly. It was very surprising to find such civilization in
the middle of the Western Soudan, and the town is a testimony to
the energy of the French administration in West Africa. The houses
now being built have two storeys and fine wide verandahs; water
will be laid on to each one and the streets will soon be lighted
by electricity. I was directed to the Commissioner’s bungalow,
a well-built house in the centre of the town. He received me with
all the courteous solicitude which the French nation so peculiarly
knows how to show to the foreigner. After he had given me all
possible assistance and information, I was invited to _déjeuner_
the following Saturday and shown the way to the hotel where I was
to stay.
Having sent on my kit, I proceeded to the offices of the French
Company, the trading firm which had arranged my money affairs for
me at Sierra Leone. Here I was introduced to the agent, a most
agreeable Frenchman, with whom I had a conversation about the funds
which had been deposited with him in my favour. I had calculated
the money I required for my journey from Freetown to Bamako to a
nicety, and was very glad to be now able to draw a further supply.
Here, also, it was necessary to arrange for further drafts to
be made payable to me at Timbuctu or some place down the Niger,
close to my intended starting-point for the desert. Unfortunately
the French Company had no branches open in the Soudan on the route
I proposed to follow, and I foresaw difficulties looming ahead if I
should be obliged to carry large sums on my person or in my loads.
My chief fear was on the score of robbers. Having no escort, and not
having too much faith in my servant’s honesty, it seemed highly
imprudent to carry with me more cash than was absolutely necessary.
However, my friend the agent was most obliging and promised to
try to arrange matters for me with another firm which had a house
at Timbuctu. It may come as a surprise to some people to hear that
French trading firms do actually exist at this point, which, I must
acknowledge, to me had always seemed like a mythical place rather
than a reality. But so it was. Two or three enterprising firms had
pushed hundreds of miles down the Niger, anxious to be the first
to tap the trade of this little-known region.
I had decided after my talk with the Commissioner to take the
train from Bamako to Koulikoro, and at that point to embark on the
Niger. There were two alternatives open to me, either to charter my
own barge, or to take a passage on a Government launch. If there
was sufficient water in the river the latter would be the quicker
way, and therefore the most advantageous for me. On the other hand,
should the river be very low I should do better to sail and pole
down-stream in the barge, which draws considerably less water than
the launch. I therefore wired to the offices of the Niger Navigation
at Koulikoro asking which would be the surest and quickest kind of
transport to take. The following day the reply came advising me to
take passage on a launch which would leave about the 1st of March.
At Bamako the roads are excellent and horses numerous, so that
many people possess a vehicle and drive a good deal. Of course,
most of the traps come out from France, but I saw one or two which
had been locally made and were first-rate copies of the French
model. So far motor-cars have not been introduced, but I have not
the least doubt that they will shortly make their appearance in
this go-ahead African town. The roads are quite good enough, and
I was informed that most of the bridges would require but little
strengthening for this purpose. One afternoon I went for a stroll
towards the river. On the way I passed through the native town,
which is kept in spick-and-span order like the rest of Bamako.
The people are mostly Bambaras, another large offshoot of the
Mandingo tribe. Bambaras are an intelligent race, and possibly
the most industrious of all the races of the French Soudan. Large
numbers are recruited for the French West African troops, as they
have a great reputation for pluck and endurance. The same tribe
furnishes the best river boatmen, and Bambaras are found plying such
varied trades as the shoemaker’s and the blacksmith’s. They
are scattered in more or less big groups all along the Niger
from Bamako to Mopti, and large numbers inhabit the countries
about Nioro and Sokolo on the left bank of the river, stretching
towards the desert. The men and women have fine physique, they are
usually tall and thick-set, but rather clumsy in build. The women
are very vain about their appearance generally, and their hair in
particular. The _coiffure_ is decidedly elaborate. There are two
fashions in vogue. The hair is drawn up tight from the forehead
and built upon the top of the head in a sort of ridge shape; this
curious form is obtained by placing a framework underneath. The
second method is to twist the hair into numerous plaits, which are
arranged fantastically around the ears and allowed to hang down
over the face. Gold ear-rings and silver rings are much worn by the
well-to-do classes, while sham pearl necklaces are in great demand
as ornaments for these dusky beauties.
[Illustration: THE RAILWAY STATION AND HOTEL AT BAMAKO
Bamako is certainly the most important place in the French
Soudan. Being connected with the Niger and Senegal rivers by rail, it
has direct communication with the Atlantic Ocean on the one side, and
with the fertile rice-growing areas of the Middle Niger on the other,
thus making it a great _entrepôt_ of the trade in these regions.]
[Illustration: THE NIGER AT BAMAKO
A special interest attaches to the Niger here as far as the traveller
from the south is concerned. At Bamako for the first time he can
discard that clumsy, however useful, form of transport—the native
porter. Thirty-five short miles of railway join Bamako to Koulikoro,
and then the Niger is uninterruptedly navigable by stern-wheeler,
launch, or canoe for about 900 miles to Ansongo.]
The men and women are of a cheerful, light-hearted disposition,
and it is seldom that these charming people have not a ready joke
and smile on their lips by way of welcome to the stranger. Having
passed through the native quarter, I saw in front of me several
acres of banana groves, the long graceful leaves blending in the
distance with the darker green foliage of orange and lime trees.
Besides many kinds of fruit the Government grow quantities of
vegetables with which the whole station is supplied; I was told that
there is a never-failing supply from one year’s end to the other.
The scene on the banks of the Niger was an interesting one. A ferry
was plying from the opposite bank towards me, in which were a number
of passengers hurrying across before nightfall. Here and there,
on the broad bosom of the river, were scattered native canoes with
their quaint awnings of palm and banana leaves, looking like some
big, brown bird floating on the water. The banks of the Niger are
low and sandy here, and on the shore were gathered a little knot
of spectators from the town, talking and watching the arrival of
the ferry, while, as the sun was sinking in a flood of red and
gold behind the Kati Hills, those who were devout worshippers of
the Prophet sank to their knees and could be heard muttering in
low, musical tones the cry “Allahu Akbar.” To my mind it is an
impressive sight to watch the pious Mohammedan at this hour forsake
the occupation upon which he is engaged, prostrating himself with
his face turned eastward towards the holy city of Mecca, forgetful
for the time of worldly matters, but devoting his thoughts and
prayers to his God.
I stood a silent spectator of the peaceful scene until the fiery
sun had disappeared behind the distant hills and darkness began
to descend with its customary swiftness on the face of the land,
blotting out the water and craft from my vision. I must be hurrying
back, as I had promised to dine with one of my new friends that
night, so I regretfully turned away from the Niger and set my face
homewards. That night I had a bad attack of fever, being obliged
to leave my host early and retire to a bed, piled with blankets,
for the next twenty-four hours. The reaction after my hard marching
was probably now telling on me, and I had also a touch of the sun,
I fancy. Hot lime drinks and some judicious doses of quinine and
phenacetin soon did their work, and, although feeling rather limp,
I was myself once more.
In the meantime I had heard from the agent of the French Company
that he had been able to arrange for a draft on Timbuctu for me,
so, my business being settled, I was at liberty to pass the rest
of my time at Bamako as I pleased.
I had two duties to perform, one was to pay an official call on the
Governor, the other being to visit the Colonel and officers of the
garrison at Kati.
Having been lent a horse by the Commissioner I decided to ride
to Kati, which was on the Kati Plateau, about eight miles off.
Before starting, however, I received a wire from the Colonel, asking
me to have _déjeuner_ with them, so I postponed my departure till
a later hour that morning, intending to visit the Governor on my
way back to the town in the afternoon. My steed was a flea-bitten
grey pony about 14.2 h.h., which had not been out of the stables for
some days, so I had an interested audience to watch my departure,
as they informed me he was _très méchant!_ As we started down
the road my mount showed a decided desire to return to stables,
commencing operations by shying and then standing up on his hind
legs while he executed a kind of war dance. I think the spectators
had their money’s worth of fun before we finally got under way
and set out at a gentle trot for Kati.
The road was a capital one, skirting for a couple of miles along
the foot of the hills and then across the railway, gradually
climbing the slope by gentle gradients. As we climbed we left the
burnt-up, khaki-coloured plain behind and rose into a landscape
of green verdure and sparkling streams. Many small torrents came
headlong down the hill-side, their rocky beds giving birth to
iridescent cascades, around which hovered beautiful, many-coloured
butterflies. Up and up we climbed until the summit was reached,
and I drew rein to admire the view spread out before my eyes. The
well-watered green slopes of the hills stretched away to the north
and west as far as one could see; below me I could just catch a
glimpse of the railway—the metal rails looking like a gleaming
snake as they twisted about following the contours of the hill. To
my right I beheld some whitewashed buildings glistening in the sun,
evidently the cantonments of the Kati garrison.
The horse-boy now arrived, panting and breathless from the climb,
so after waiting a moment to give him time to recover, I made my
way slowly towards the houses. On my arrival I had to apologize
for the shortcomings of my wardrobe, for, of course, I had not been
able to bring any uniform on my expedition, and my hosts were all
attired in smart, white tunics in honour of the advent of a British
officer. The Colonel was a fine-looking, stalwart soldier, who had
a splendid record of service in West Africa, and was wearing the
cross of the Legion of Honour. That luncheon-party was the merriest
one I had attended for a long time, and, after many weeks of my own
society since leaving Freetown, it was very enjoyable to be among
such cheery companions. The officers at Kati can get by train to
Bamako nearly every day if they wish, but their duties keep them
fairly busy in garrison, they informed me. They have a pleasant
little colony at their station and the joys of social life at Bamako
did not apparently appeal to them greatly. As a matter of fact, the
Europeans at the capital of the Soudan are divided rather strangely
into three groups. The traders and the administrative officials
of the district of Bamako are all quartered in the town, and, as
has been explained, the troops and military officers are at Kati,
while the administrative officials of the colony are at a place
called Koulouba, which is on a hill three miles from the town. The
officers were most anxious for me to spend the afternoon with them,
but it was half-past three before we finished the sumptuous repast
which had been prepared for us, and I had an eight-mile ride to
Government House at Koulouba in front of me.
The Lieutenant-Governor of the colony had been away touring and
only returned the previous day, so I was fortunate in being able
to make his acquaintance before leaving Bamako. Government House
is a splendid stone mansion, situated on the edge of the plateau,
overlooking the town of Bamako and commanding a fine view over
the Niger, which can be seen like a silver thread winding its way
north-east towards KouliKoro.
The Lieutenant-Governor’s residence is truly a palace. It is
three storeys high, and has large rooms and cool, wide verandahs
and corridors. The house is furnished in the most comfortable,
if not luxurious, style, and I had no difficulty in believing the
statement that it was the finest house in French West Africa. I have
seen no building in British West Africa which could in any way be
compared to it. It is said to have cost a million francs to build,
as all the material had to be brought from Europe. Electric light
and hot water are laid on everywhere, and no effort seems to have
been spared to make the place a model of comfort and elegance.
The houses of the officials who are on the Lieutenant-Governor’s
staff are also admirably fitted up. Water is a great difficulty on
the top of the hill, but this has been overcome by installing an
apparatus for pumping it up from the Niger below.
A capital carriage-road leads down the hill to Bamako, and there
is also an excellent bridle-path. The Lieutenant-Governor had his
wife and family at Koulouba. I was told that they proposed to spend
a whole year in the country, as they found life so agreeable and
comfortable at Government House.
The Lieutenant-Governor received me very graciously, supplying me
with all the maps and information I required. He also promised to
telegraph down the Niger, sending instructions for every facility to
be given me where I wanted to shoot. In the course of conversation
I was rather astonished when he inquired after my two companions. I
informed him that I was travelling alone and had no companions,
whereupon he showed me a letter referring to the projected visit
of three Englishmen to Bamako, who were engaged on a scientific and
hunting expedition in the Western Soudan. He naturally thought that
I was one of this party. I had, however, never heard of them. It was
certainly a strange coincidence that another party of Englishmen
should be contemplating a trip in this region about the same time
as myself, more especially as Englishmen very rarely visit the
country. I never met this party, and am not aware if they ever
started on their proposed tour.
At Government House I was introduced to one of the secretaries,
who, I was told, had served in the “Bend” of the Niger, where
I wished to shoot, and would be able to give me information on
the subject of the game in that locality. I was delighted at the
opportunity of getting some reliable, first-hand news. The gentleman
I was introduced to had been in the heart of the country I intended
to visit for five years, he informed me, and was a keen sportsman,
so I was in great luck to meet him here. He advised me to disembark
at a place called Niafounké, nearly 500 miles down-river, and from
there to strike into the district of Bandiagara, where big game of
many varieties was plentiful. He also gave me letters of introduction
to the French officials of the districts through which I should pass,
and informed me of the best hunters to be obtained at the villages
in the region to which I was proceeding. His information was most
valuable, and I was overjoyed to hear his glowing accounts of the
shooting available in the “Boucle,” as the French call the Big
“Bend” of the Niger. He, like most Frenchmen who shoot in West
Africa, had used nothing but the Lebel rifle, which has a calibre
but little bigger than the ·303. I cannot help thinking that a
great deal of game must be wounded when such a small-bore rifle
is relied upon for the bigger animals, and, quite apart from the
danger to the individual who is shooting, to my mind it is cruel
to wound a beast which you are unable to overtake and kill owing
to the rifle being a less powerful weapon than should be used.
My new friend invited me to his quarters, where we had a long and
interesting conversation about shooting in West Africa. Later in
the evening we descended the hill together to Bamako, whither he
was riding. We made an appointment for the following day in order
to continue our conversation, but unfortunately it fell through.
The Senegal-Niger Railway forms one of the links forged by the
French for penetrating into the Western Soudan from the coast. The
River Senegal is the first link in the chain. From the port of St.
Louis, on the Atlantic coast and at the mouth of the Senegal River,
this waterway is navigable at certain times of the year for big
steamers as far as the town of Kayes. This town is situated about 400
miles up the stream. Above Kayes the Senegal River is not navigable,
and until Koulikoro is reached the Niger is not navigable, although
from that point downwards the river is navigable for many hundred
miles. Now to connect these two waterways, the Senegal and the Niger,
it became necessary to join the towns of Kayes and Koulikoro by
a railway. The French thus completed a line of communication from
St. Louis on the sea-coast to the heart of the Western Soudan.
Although the Senegal River is navigable as far as Kayes, this is
only the case during certain months of the year. For instance,
during the rainy season, from about July to November, ships of
2000 tons can ascend to this point. Small steamers, launches and
stern-wheelers can proceed to Kayes until the month of February,
but from February till June the river is only navigable by canoes
with difficulty. In consequence of this the Senegal River is rather
a weak point in the chain of communication with the interior. To
remedy this the French are now building a fresh line from Dakar,
the new capital of the Senegal Colony and head-quarters of the
Governor-General of French West Africa, to Kayes. About half of
this railway is completed. The line is well-laid and the work of
construction is in very capable hands, so there is no doubt it
will be finished as quickly as possible. The saving of time will
be enormous; for, in the dry season, when it takes about a month to
reach the coast by the present route from Kayes, it will in future
only take two days by rail. The train, which runs three or four
times a week in each direction, takes two days to go from Bamako to
Kayes. The carriages are fairly comfortable, and the railway is much
used by natives, who take a childish delight in travelling by train.
The trade of the colony has benefited greatly by the Senegal-Niger
line, the output of ground nuts for export to France having
particularly shown a large increase. Trains run nearly every day
from Bamako to Koulikoro, a distance of only thirty-five miles.
The third-class carriages are not uncomfortable. I travelled a short
distance in one myself. Some of the compartments extend along the
whole length of the carriage, having the two ends open, which makes
travelling in the hot weather much cooler than it would otherwise
be. Railways in French West Africa are being rapidly constructed,
and it is probable that in the next decade the Senegal-Niger, or the
Guinea line, will be continued across the French Soudan to the east
of the “Bend” of the Niger, and that the existing branches in
the colonies of Ivory Coast and Dahomey will be extended northwards
to meet it.
The last morning of my stay at Bamako I paid a visit to the market
with my “boy.” I suppose it is the largest and most thriving
market of the Western Soudan. The produce of the large rice and
millet farms of the Niger is brought here for sale, and this comes
not only from the district around Bamako, but also from the big
grain areas in the Macina province, some 350 miles farther down the
river. Ground nuts, which are so extensively grown in the colony,
form a large proportion of the produce of the market. But in
addition to grains almost every article of trade in the Soudan is
brought here. The same heterogeneous collection of different races
which I had noticed at Kankan was to be seen, but the proportion
of pale-faced, Jewish-looking Moors was larger, while occasionally
a stalwart Arab in flowing white robes would show conspicuously
amongst the swarthy negroid tribesmen.
A great feature of the Bamako market is the part devoted to dairy
produce. There are two distinct portions in this section. One has
preserved milk, butter, etc., or in other words, stuff which has been
brought from the north of the Niger in goatskins and is invariably
rancid. The other portion contains fresh milk and butter. The
butter is made up in tiny round pats, which are allowed to float in
the calabashes of milk displayed for sale. Most natives prefer the
“preserved” dairy produce, for sour butter and curdled milk are
things which the soul of the Bambara loveth, probably finding their
flavour more piquant, and condemning the fresh articles as insipid.
In another corner was the live stock. Fine humped cattle from the
Niger valley, Soudan sheep from the lake-country in the “Bend,”
many of which had thick coats of fleecy white wool, and goats from
anywhere and everywhere were huddled up indiscriminately together.
The horses were all of the same type. The 14 or 14.2 pony of the
Soudan rather resembles the Barb pony, but is weedier in appearance;
although, from my own observation, I should back the Soudan animal
to beat his Barb confrère in a trial of endurance. I was told that
camels occasionally came down to Bamako, but personally I never
saw one there. The camel caravan routes nearly all stop on the
north of the Niger and Senegal rivers. I fancy these animals are
rarely brought across, partly on account of the danger attending
the transportation of such unwieldy brutes, and partly because the
river-water is said to produce some kind of sickness from which a
camel seldom recovers. In any case, there does not appear to be any
advantage in introducing camel transport into a well-watered country.
The hotel at Bamako is close to the railway station; it also
possesses a buffet for the use of passengers. This was one of the
several surprises which I had on my arrival at the town, for it
had never entered my calculations to find an hotel in this remote
region. There are two storeys, with four bedrooms on each floor.
The dining-room is spacious, and can easily accommodate twenty
people. In the afternoon, when the sun is getting low, small tables
are placed in the compound in front of the building, and here people
congregate to talk over the events of the day while drinking their
cognac or cup of coffee, for all the world like restaurant-life in
the boulevards of a town in France.
At this hour the tables were generally full, the Frenchman being
a sociable person and dearly loving this daily meeting with his
friends at the restaurant. In the evening, when the lamps are
lighted, two or three card-tables are made up. I noticed that even
there bridge seemed to be as popular a game as it is with us. There
is a small menagerie in the hotel garden, containing two ostriches
and a few other wild animals. It was a strange sight to see the
former animals strutting about in their lordly fashion, and, with
their extraordinary powers of digestion, occasionally picking up
and swallowing a stone in the calmest way imaginable.