Koulikoro — Niger Navigation Service — Rapids on the Niger —
The Hourst Expedition — An explorer’s death — Horse-breeding.
ON the 27th of February I left by the morning train for
Koulikoro. The director of the eastern section of the Senegal-Niger
Railway, to whom I was introduced, travelled down in the same
carriage. Commandant Digue is a most interesting man, with a vast
experience of railways in West Africa, and possessing a reputation
for great energy and ability. He was formerly an officer of
Engineers, but has now retired from the French Army. In the early
days of the railway construction many brave men laid down their
lives while overcoming the engineering difficulties which had to
be faced, and he is one of the few survivors of those hard times.
The line runs through a grassy bush-country a few miles from the
left bank of the Niger, and occasionally the passenger catches a
glimpse of that river as it twists and turns on its north-easterly
course. The train was a slow one, taking three hours to cover the
thirty-five miles and stopping at every station. On approaching
Koulikoro the country becomes more hilly on the north and west,
while the river is gradually seen more distinctly on the east. For
West Africa the station is a large and busy one. In the railway
yard there are repairing shops with skilled workmen capable of
carrying out almost any work that is necessary. There are a large
amount of rolling stock and a big engine-shed. The day was Sunday,
so our train contained several Europeans who had come over from
Bamako to spend the day with friends here. Several people were on
the platform awaiting our arrival; amongst them the local railway
officials in white uniform were conspicuous, having come to meet
the director of the line.
We went up to the hotel, where I took a room and installed myself for
the next two days. This hotel is similar to the one at Bamako, but
is more comfortable and a good deal cleaner. The hotels were built
by Government and are the property of the railway, but are let to
private individuals, who are responsible for the entire management,
and charge their own prices. One of my fellow-passengers that
morning was a French officer coming down on duty to Koulikoro. We
made friends in the train and he had promised to call for me in the
afternoon to take me to visit the Director of the Niger Navigation
Service. About four o’clock we set out on our visit. The official
in question was at home with his wife and two daughters. Madame
was a charming lady from Algeria, and she and her daughters had
but lately returned from an adventurous trip down the Niger to its
farthest navigable point, a place called Ansongo, a distance of
about 900 miles. They told me they were the first white women ever
to visit Ansongo, and I can well believe that few ladies would care
to risk the dangers and hardships of such a voyage.
My new friend, Lieutenant Langel, sang us some most amusing songs to
the accompaniment of one of the young ladies, and finally had only
just time to catch the evening train back to Bamako. M. Langel,
although only a lieutenant, had seen a considerable amount of
service in West Africa, having commenced life there in the ranks. He
had a large fund of funny anecdotes about the country and was as
pleasant a companion as can be imagined. I was indebted to him for
introductions to several influential officials it was my pleasure
to meet later during my travels.
[Illustration: THE NIGER AT KOULIKORO
Here are collected a number of craft of all kinds, e.g.
stern-wheelers, launches, barges, and steel canoes, for it is here
that the navigation of the Niger really begins. Koulikoro workshops
are very self-contained, all repairs being effected on the spot.]
[Illustration: THE NIGER AT SÉGOU
This is a prosperous town, where a good deal of tobacco and cotton
are grown. Near Ségou we encountered the worst sandbanks of the
voyage. In places the channel was not eighteen inches deep, and we
had considerable difficulty in passing.]
After the departure of the train an adjournment was made to the
hotel, where I met the Resident of Koulikoro and his wife. A
tennis-court had been made in the gardens, and it was decided to
play. I don’t think I have ever played the game under such strange
conditions as I have here. The net was locally made out of native
fishing-nets, the ground was the flattest piece of rock we could
find, with the court-lines marked out in white chalk, while the balls
were of ordinary india-rubber, and no one possessed tennis-shoes. The
racquets were, or rather had once been, tennis-bats, and were the
only part of our equipment resembling the real article. However,
it was an amusing game, causing almost as much merriment to the
players as it did to the spectators. After tennis we all assembled
at little tables in front of the hotel, as the custom is, to take
an _apéritif_. Besides myself there were only three men staying
at the hotel; these were permanent residents, who were employed in
the Government Offices and found it more convenient to live at the
hotel than to have a separate establishment in the town.
As I previously mentioned, the terminus of the railway and
the head-quarters of the Niger Navigation Service are here,
consequently there is a large number of European officials employed
at Koulikoro. The navigation service is entirely controlled by the
Government. There are several stern-wheelers, small steam-launches,
steel canoes and barges in the fleet. These vary considerably in
size and comfort. The depth of the Niger alters greatly according
to the season of the year. At certain times during the dry season
there is so little water in parts of the Upper Niger that navigation
even by shallow-draught barges is exceedingly difficult.
In the old days, when there was no craft on the river bigger than
the native canoe, journeys were long and tedious. From Koulikoro
to Timbuctu, even with relays of canoemen at frequent intervals,
it was impossible to cover the distance in less than three weeks,
but now a very different state of affairs exists, and the journey
can be done on the average in twelve days. Since the railway has
reached Koulikoro repairing-shops and a dock have been made, and
the fleet of steaming-vessels has been greatly augmented at this
port of the Niger.
One of my companions at dinner was a platelayer in charge of a
section of the line between Koulikoro and Bamako. As I happened to
mention to him that I should much like to see the rapids on the Niger
below Bamako, of which I had often heard, he very kindly offered to
take me next morning by trolly to a station within easy walk of some
of the rapids. I was delighted at the offer, which I gladly accepted.
Next morning, as the sun was rising, I met my friend at the station,
where he had his trolly ready. Our destination was a little place
called Kiénéfala, about twenty miles down the line. It was very
pleasant in the early morning air as we glided swiftly along,
running by our own momentum easily down the declines, while our
trolly boys, four stalwart Bambaras, pushed us up the inclines.
There is something very exhilarating in the motion of a trolly. The
sensation is that of being in a train, but with this advantage,
that you have the benefit of being in the open air instead of being
shut into a hot compartment. As we rattled merrily along we caught
glimpses of bushfowl and guinea-fowl, who, scared by our approach,
scuttled into the bush as we bore down upon them. Occasionally a
duiker, or bushbuck, would be seen in the distance, terrified at
the appearance of this strange, swift-moving object which invaded
the privacy of their sylvan haunts. Whole families of monkeys
were frequently to be seen gambolling on the track, along which
they hurried as we made our appearance, only finally to dive into
the bush as they realized the pursuing demon was overtaking them.
Unfortunately I was never able to get close enough to these animals
for a successful photograph.
In a little over two hours we arrived at the station, where
we dismounted from the trolly. Half an hour’s walk brought
us to the Niger and we were close to the rapids. There are two
sets of rapids which interrupt the navigation between Bamako and
Koulikoro. About eight miles below the former town are the rapids
of Sotuba, and, below them again, the rapids of Kiénéfala, which
we were now visiting. For many miles this section of the river is
very rocky and, even for canoes, navigation is difficult. The water
was low here and we were able to clamber over rocky boulders into
the middle of the stream, from whence we got a capital view of the
rapids. As we gazed up-stream we could see that the river was split
into three channels, separated from each other by huge fragments of
rock. Immediately in front of us was the centre channel. On each
side of this channel was a rocky wall towering up to a height of
thirty feet above our heads. Some two hundred yards away the water
came swirling along in a seething torrent, until it suddenly reached
the rugged precipice down which it fell in headlong impetuosity. It
looked as if no craft could live in that pitiless, rushing stream,
yet one or two Frenchmen have successfully descended those rapids.
At the bottom the water flows swiftly through a channel, said to be
very deep, and then on for a couple of miles till the rocks begin to
disappear and the three separated portions of the river reunite. The
water below the rapids is of the most beautiful deep blue colour—a
blue I have never seen in any other river, but strongly resembling
the blue one sees in the Mediterranean. I could have stayed for
hours watching this splendid sight; the grandeur of the rapids,
the roar of the waters and the beauty of the blue stream at our
feet carried me away from the commonplace doings of the world. It
was one of those moments, which come to us all at times, when one
feels mentally and physically in touch with nature.
My companion suddenly awoke me from my reverie, pointing to the
sun, which was now high up in the sky. We had to get back quickly
as the down train was due in less than two hours. After a little
refreshment at the platelayer’s house near the station we mounted
our trolly once more and proceeded on the homeward trip. At a little
village called Madambougou, we halted to examine the graves of some
Frenchmen who had been buried there. These men were members of the
expedition which descended the Niger in 1884 under Lieutenant Hourst,
the well-known explorer. Hourst was a naval officer who organized a
small fleet of canoes for this expedition, and starting from Bamako
with a few European companions and a following of native canoemen
successfully descended the Rapids of Sotuba and Kiénéfala. After
descending the Kiénéfala Rapids he made a camp near Madambougou,
and, while there repairing damages to his canoes, he lost two or
three white men from sickness, while others were unfortunately killed
in a canoe accident. For many years the whereabouts of these graves
could not be discovered, until at last, when the bush was being cut
down in connection with some work on the railway line, the tombstones
of the victims of the Hourst Expedition were disclosed. The little
graveyard has now been cleared and is kept in good order.
A few weeks later I met a French naval officer, the Superintendent of
the Niger Surveys, who had just arrived from France, and had come by
river all the way from Bamako, descending the rapids _en route_. He,
like Hourst, came down in an ordinary “dug-out” canoe, and,
although successful, he informed me it was a thrilling experience
and one he would not lightly undertake again. The smallest mistake
or hesitation on the part of the steersman must result in the frail
craft being inevitably dashed against the rocks, and there would
be no hope for the occupants.
In the early days of French exploration an explorer called Maje
had penetrated into the Soudan as far as Koulikoro. Just outside
that village he was attacked by the inhabitants and killed on the
hill which is to be seen at the south end of the place. Maje’s
death was not avenged for some time, but his name has since been
perpetuated in one of the stern-wheeler boats in use on the Niger;
she was lying in the river when I was at Koulikoro, but useless till
the next rainy season owing to the scarcity of water at that time.
That afternoon I walked out to Koulikoro Bara, two miles off, to
call on the officers of the local garrison. A broad road leads to
the village, and the officers’ quarters are perched on the top of
a hill above it. The road had a soft, sandy surface and seemed to
be a favourite resort for riders in the evening. When I passed some
half-dozen natives were racing on their gaily ornamented steeds.
Excitement among the spectators was running at a high pitch as the
cavaliers came tearing furiously down the road, urging their mounts
forward with wild cries and much spurring. The winner at the end
of the course, shouting triumphantly at his victory, drew rein so
suddenly as to throw his horse on to its haunches, to the imminent
danger of those following, who narrowly escaped a collision.
I was shown round the barracks by a young artillery officer, who was
temporarily in charge of the station, and he very kindly offered
to lend me a horse for the remainder of my stay at Koulikoro. But
I was unable to make much use of his offer, for when I returned
to the hotel I found a message to say that the steam-launch would
leave the following day.
The next morning I rose early as I had arranged to pay a visit to
the horse-breeding establishment which was about three miles away. I
was met by Captain de Franco, who took great pains to show me the
well-managed stables under his care. Very few mares are kept, but
the stallions of the establishment are sent out to districts where
a good class of mare is known to exist, and the owners of the mares
are bound to sell the progeny to Government should they be required
so to do. The reason for this is that it was found many of the
Government mares were infected with the trypnazome produced by the
tsetse-fly-bite. Some of them died, while others dropped dead foals,
and so it was considered to be a wiser plan to let the risk of these
accidents be borne by the native rather than by Government. Captain
de Franco informed me that they had treated several cases of this
disease successfully with arsenic, but although the victim’s life
was saved the horse was never as strong as he had originally been.
The animals were certainly some of the finest I had seen in the
Western Soudan. Most of them came from the districts of Nioro and
Sokolo, on the left bank of the Niger. They averaged a little over
15 hands, some showing distinct signs of Arab blood. We walked over
to the riding-school, where the young horses were being exercised.
The riders were native lads, most of whom were expert horsemen before
they came to the establishment, I was told. The difficulty is not to
teach them to ride, but to teach them to be good horsemasters. They
have been used to the brutal native methods, using the cruel native
bit, and regarding the horse as a machine incapable of feeling pain
or fatigue. Once these ideas have been driven out of their heads
they become very useful members of the stables.
The captain was very proud of his house, which he had built himself
with materials specially ordered from France. It was certainly very
comfortable and furnished with great taste.
I hurried back to the hotel to find my servant sending the loads
down to the wharf. In the last two days I had rearranged my kit,
and repacked the “chop-boxes,” and had reduced my possessions
to twelve carriers’ loads. I now went to the Navigation Offices,
where I purchased my ticket for Niafounké. I was introduced
to the _brigadier de vaisseaux_, the European skipper of the
little launch, with whom I had to share a cabin. Accommodation
on the boat was limited. There was a tiny cabin with two berths
“forard,” while other passengers had to pitch their camp beds,
if they could find room, in the stern of the vessel. Some of the
baggage was stowed in the hold, but the heavier articles were in
the lighter which we were to tow. My fellow-passengers were two
European non-commissioned officers. One of them was proceeding to
the garrison town of Bobo-Djilassu, while the other was bound for
Timbuctu. I must say I pitied these two men; they were so cramped
in the narrow space allowed them that the discomfort of a journey
down-river lasting several days must have been great. To add to
the general unpleasantness there was only a thin awning to protect
their heads from the fierce sun, so that they could never discard
their sun-helmets during the day.
In the bows of the steam-launch there was a small space available,
with just room for a couple of chairs, and in the centre of this
space was the wheel, where the steersman took up his position. Our
crew were mostly Bambaras, three of whom were river pilots. A
special knowledge of the river is necessary for the man at the
wheel, as the Niger is full of sandbanks, rocks and other dangers
to navigators. Our vessel was the “Réné Caillé,” called
after the famous French explorer of that name, who in the years
1827 and 1828 came across the Sahara from Morocco to Timbuctu,
eventually returning to Europe by the same route. These boats are
known to the French as _vedettes_, while the stern-wheelers are
called _monoroues_; the latter appears to be a misnomer, for these
boats have two wheels, and not a single one.
In the lighter towed behind us, besides the baggage, there was a
collection of natives. Some of these were soldiers with their wives
and families, and a very happy party they seemed to be as they sat
on packing-cases at the bottom of the boat, chattering and laughing
while we waited for the _brigadier_ to come aboard. All formalities
were at length completed, and the Director of Navigation came out
of his office with our skipper to bid me good-bye.
As we steamed away from the shores of Koulikoro I felt my spirits
rise at the prospect of seeing “fresh woods and pastures new,”
and this bade fair to be one of the most interesting portions of my
journey, for at last I was on the navigable Niger, after following
it from its source for so many hundred miles and seeing it gradually
grow from a tiny, insignificant stream into a fine, big waterway.