Fulani cattle — Lake Dhebo — Duck shooting — Teal —
A tough bird — The Niger River winds — Towing a barge —
Niafounké — The edge of the Sahara — Stalking birds —
Sheep-farming — Developing the wool trade — Raided by a leopard
— Ostrich-farming.
ON the 9th of March we left Mopti, finding considerably more water
in this section of the Niger, chiefly due to the increase in its
volume caused by the influx of the Bani. On both banks there were
now wide stretches of rich green grass springing luxuriantly out of
the spongy soil, which even at this season was covered with several
inches of water. Big herds of Fulani cattle, often immersed to the
withers in water, could be seen grazing as we steamed easily past
the banks. The cattle had a strange appearance, as not much more
than their heads were visible, but stranger still was the cowherd,
who, mounted on one of his beasts, also in the water, the better
to supervise their feeding, urged them on from time to time with
weird cries and thwacks from his staff.
The grass which grows on the banks of the river from Mopti and away
down the Middle Niger is called “borgou.” It is very fattening,
as it contains a large percentage of sugar, hence probably the fine
condition of the herds in this region.
The river was more than ever broken up into creeks and channels;
to me it seemed a hopeless task to know which was the correct one
to follow, so similar and so numerous were they. Often the wider
branches were merely backwaters, running a few miles inland; but
the pilots were never puzzled and evidently knew their work well.
Sometimes on one of the swampy banks there would be a large open
piece of water, upon which could be seen myriads of duck and geese
revelling in their feeding-grounds undisturbed by the sportsman.
As we progressed a thick mist began to enshroud the landscape.
We were approaching the great lake, Dhebo, around which this curious
mist generally hangs. About 5.30, just as the sun was setting,
we reached the lake. The entrance is marked by two curious bare
sandstone hills, standing out like sentries above the surrounding
flat country. As the “Réné Caillé” suddenly emerged from
the river as far as the eye could see there was a wide expanse
of water covered with miniature, frothy waves, which, except for
the occasional patches of reeds peering here and there above the
surface, might easily have been mistaken for the sea. The lake,
however, is very shallow. In many places a man could wade across
without much difficulty. Dhebo forms a natural reservoir for the
waters of the Niger in a singular manner. When the rains fall in the
mountains of Tembikunda and Futajallon, in French Guinea, the Upper
Niger naturally rises and the lake fills up. This continues from
about June to October. All this time the Middle Niger, which has
no tributaries, owing to the dearth of mountains and the proximity
of the desert, is getting dry, more especially as rain on that
portion of the river is so infinitesimal in quantity as to be of
no consequence. Towards the end of the rains the lake fills up and
overflows, replenishing the Middle Niger. The overflow from Dhebo
continues to fill up the Middle Niger, but all this time the upper
river is decreasing in volume owing to the cessation of the rains
in the Guinea Mountains. Hence the curious phenomenon is observed
of the Upper Niger subsiding as the Middle Niger increases, and vice
versa. It is for this reason that when the Upper Niger is unnavigable
for steam-launches these boats can work on the Middle Niger.
The “Réné Caillé” had orders to ply only between Mopti and
Kabara (the port of Timbuctu) after this journey, as the water in
the Upper Niger would now be insufficient for her. The bed of the
lake is covered with a kind of river oyster, which is said to be
excellent eating, but I never tried it myself, although we dug up
a number of them as we crossed the place. The skipper was anxious
to make a port on the other shore of Dhebo that night if possible,
but we had entered the lake so late that it was dark very quickly.
Owing to the width of the lake it was hard by day, but impossible
by night, to pick up landmarks by which to steer. The lake being
shallow and sandbanks numerous, steering by the compass was not of
much use, so after many bumps it was decided to anchor for the night
and continue the journey at daybreak. A cold wind blows nearly all
the year round on Dhebo, so that night I was glad of my blankets
for the first time since quitting the Tembikunda Mountains.
In the morning I was up betimes to have a good view of the lake.
The mist was rising and I could plainly discern a small village
towards which we were steering, and farther ahead still was a wide
silver streak flowing northwards out of the lake. The village was the
fishing-place called Akka, where we were to take in some more wood,
while the river was the Issa-Ber. At this exit of Lake Dhebo the
Niger splits into two large streams, the Issa-Ber and the Bara-Issa,
both of which are navigable, and which reunite at a town named El
Wal-Oueji, about 120 miles further down-stream. The main branch,
and the one we were to follow, was the Issa-Ber. This flows past
the town of Niafounké, whilst the Bara-Issa flows past the town of
Saraféré, where I was to make its acquaintance later, to the east
of the former river. The journey to Timbuctu by either stream is
of about equal length, but the route by the Issa-Ber is preferable
as the channel is wider.
At Akka I hoped for some duck shooting while the launch was getting
fuel. It was quite early when we anchored off the village, and I went
ashore, gun in hand, accompanied by a couple of the crew. Behind
the place were some likely-looking swamps and small lakes, whither
we bent our steps. Having secured the services of a local rustic to
show us the best spot, I hurried off in order to make the most of
the short time at my disposal. The first place we approached was
surrounded by a fringe of tall reeds, affording excellent cover
for a gun. Near the opposite shore there were a number of various
kinds of duck and teal enjoying the morning air and unaware of
our presence. I instructed my followers to manœuvre round to the
other side, while I cautiously crept into my position in the reeds
on the near bank. The beaters soon began to approach the birds,
amongst whom there were evident signs of unrest, as they started to
chatter and flutter their wings in the water. Presently up rose a
cloud of what looked like white-plumaged birds, which came flying
rapidly towards me; as they circled over my head I had a right and
left at them, bringing down one bird with the first barrel. They
now whirled swiftly away towards the opposite shore, but before I
had reloaded I saw some grey teal rapidly approaching. I had time
for a barrel at them before they were out of range, when some more
duck and then some geese hove in sight.
As soon as the birds returned towards the beaters they were driven
away with loud cries and volleys of stones hurled in the air in
their direction, whereupon they usually circled back towards me,
evidently much disconcerted and unable to understand the unwonted
report of my gun, with the occasional fall of one of their number.
Altogether I had some capital sport, and was loath to hear the
warning whistle of the launch, indicating that we must gather up
the spoil and retrace our steps. Most of the birds were picked up,
and I had collected a nice little bag. The white-plumaged duck
which I had first shot proved to be a fine big bird, spur-winged,
weighing eight or nine pounds, and although it looked quite white in
flight the back was covered with rich black and dark green feathers.
The grey teal is a beautiful little bird, very swift of flight,
and quite the most delicately flavoured of any waterfowl I shot
on the Niger. This teal has a brown beak and light mottled grey
breast darkening to partridge colour towards the tail. The wings
are a beautiful pearl-grey, while the back is a darker shade of the
same colour. The feet are dark grey. It is common on the swamps and
lakes north of Dhebo. There was another grey teal of about the same
size as the one described, but of a uniform mottled grey partridge
hue. At first I thought it might be the female of the other grey
teal, but I am inclined to think it was quite another species and
was certainly much less common.
The goose I shot was a bird weighing about ten pounds, the wings
and back were copper-coloured, the breast and under surface greyish
white, while the legs were yellow and the beak red. The Bambaras
called it “bio-lou.” This goose was very common north of Mopti;
it is frequently seen feeding in the fields during the daytime. I
cannot recommend it as a dish. The flesh is extremely tough. Even
when well stewed it was almost too hard to be eatable; finally, I
used to use it only for making soup. The largest game bird I saw on
the Niger was a duck which must weigh at least fifteen pounds. It
has a black beak, with a very distinctive red knob on its nose,
just like a Barbary duck. The body and breast are black and white,
while the wings are black, with a dark greenish tinge. This bird
is also spur-winged. It was so large that I used to have a joint
off it, treating a leg as one would a leg of mutton.
After leaving Mopti we encountered the Niger River winds. These
winds blow almost permanently from the north-east, that is to say the
general direction is up-stream. The result is that progress up-stream
is frequently more rapid than when one travels with the current,
for in the latter case the wind on this section is adverse. The
wind accounted also for the waves on Lake Dhebo, making the motion
so unpleasant that I could easily believe the skipper when he said
people were often sea-sick here. One or two barges we passed under
sail were spanking along at a great pace up-stream.
The day before our departure from Mopti a French gentleman had
arrived from Djenné in a lighter. Owing to the strong head winds
he could not make any progress in his craft, so arranged to be towed
by us. He was a newspaper reporter, who had come out from Europe to
study and write a report on certain native tribes of the Western
Soudan. M. Malbranque had made some interesting investigations at
Djenné, and was now _en route_ to Timbuctu for a similar purpose.
His barge was lashed alongside us, so that one could easily step
from one boat to the other. The roof of his lighter made a pleasant
spot upon which to rest and watch the passing scenery. We used to
sit together and have many interesting discussions about travel. He
was a man with a wide experience of French colonies, who had been
in most parts of the world in connection with his literary labours.
His river barge had done a long journey already. He had started from
Koulikoro, some three weeks before me, but passing to Djenné from
the town of Diafarabe, and then following the Bani River to Mopti.
The Issa-Ber is here nearly half a mile wide, and with such a fine
depth of water that we steamed along merrily, having no longer any
fear of sticking on a shoal. After leaving Lake Dhebo the aspect of
the banks changed considerably. The vast pasturages of “borgou”
on the banks gradually disappeared, giving way to a sandier soil,
well wooded near the water’s edge. As we approached Niafounké
the western shore grew more sandy, while the trees and scrub became
more scattered. Our first view of the station was a glimpse of
three rectangular mud-built houses, standing on rising ground not
far from the river bank, with the Tricolour waving proudly in front
of the centre one. The native town was tucked away in a dip of the
ground behind the Residency, so was not visible from the river.
As we came alongside the little jetty two or three French officials
advanced to meet us. I was introduced to the Commissioner, his
assistant, and the doctor, and invited up to the Residency, where
I was to put up. I had arranged with the skipper of the “Réné
Caillé” to take my surplus baggage on to Timbuctu, as I intended
to travel light, only taking a month’s supplies on my hunting
expedition into the “Bend” of the Niger. I had spent a pleasant
ten days on the little launch, and now said good-bye, for she
was to start off that evening and would travel day and night till
she reached Kabara. The river being now so much wider and deeper,
navigation by night was easy. So the “Réné Caillé” steamed
off, and we went up the hill to the station. My host gave me a most
palatial room in his house, in which I felt lost after living in
half a tiny cabin on the launch for the past few days.
That evening we were a pleasant party of seven. Besides the
officials, two men from a sheep farm had come to dine, and I had to
promise to pay their farm a visit before leaving the neighbourhood.
The doctor and I made great friends. We had much in common, as he
was almost as keen on sport as myself. He had a good deal of leisure
time at Niafounké and had spent a considerable portion of it in
shooting. We arranged for an expedition the following morning,
as I had decided to pass two days here, giving me time to settle
my best plan of campaign for the future.
The next day we were out before daylight, equipped only with light
rifles, as we did not expect to see anything bigger than haartebeest,
while we would probably only see gazelle.
We were evidently on the edge of the Sahara, for the soil was very
sandy and vegetation of the stunted, desert variety. The trees were
mostly mimosas, and as the sun rose the delicate fragrance of their
golden blossoms was wafted towards us on the morning air. That
morning we did not see much big game, in fact it was not till we were
on the way home that we saw a small herd of red-fronted gazelle. We
each had a rather long shot, and each of us missed. Small game,
however, was abundant. Amongst the mimosa scrub we frequently saw
hares darting about, while sand-grouse were very numerous. The
latter were strangely difficult to see, as they crouched close to
the ground, their speckled yellow colour harmonizing exactly with
the sand in which they lay. They would sometimes get up almost at
one’s feet, unperceived, until one heard their peculiar cry and
the whir of their wings as they swiftly darted away.
Here I saw the doctor successfully practise the trick of approaching
a greater bustard by stalking it in an ever-narrowing circle. The
plan is an extremely simple and apparently effective one. The
stalker, perceiving the bird at a distance of about 200 yards,
proceeds to walk round it slowly in a circle of this radius.
After completing a circle he gradually decreases the diameter,
moving slowly the whole time, until he is within about fifty yards.
At this point he cautiously goes into position with his rifle and
has a shot. The bird does not seem to notice the gradual diminution
of distance, and in this way seems to be fairly easy to approach.
It is certain that to attempt to get within shot in open country
is difficult in any other way.
On the homeward road we passed a small stream where guinea-fowl and
bushfowl were plentiful; indeed, it seemed strange that in this
narrow fringe of country almost bordering on the desert, there
should be such a quantity of small game. We came across several
thorn zaribas, used as sheep-pens by the natives in order to protect
their animals from the lions which prowl around this region. The
doctor informed me that no lions had been seen for some months past
near Niafounké. However, these animals travel great distances in a
short time and they might turn up again unexpectedly at any minute,
so the native is wise to take precautions.
Niafounké is the last district under civil administration on the
Middle Niger. The remainder of the country is administered by the
military authorities. The Resident very kindly gave me one of his
policemen to accompany me till I arrived at Timbuctu. The uniform
of the policeman has a great moral effect on natives, so I was
pleased at having this man to assist me in the villages through
which I would pass. The last afternoon of my stay the doctor and I
went on another shooting excursion. Our plan was to ride out to a
place where we would probably get some wart-hog and gazelle, then
in the evening we were to go on to Gauba, where the sheep farm was,
and where we intended to spend the night with the two men I had
met at dinner the previous day.
We had a pleasant ride, but fortune seemed to have deserted us much
as she had done the day before. My friend had two difficult shots
at a gazelle, but was unsuccessful; while I only saw one wart-hog
when it was too dark to shoot.
The sheep farm is almost on the Niger banks. It is purely
experimental, being started by Government to try to improve the
breed of the local sheep. The native sheep of the Western Soudan is
not a bad little animal, and gives a fair crop of wool. The wool is,
however, rather coarse, and it was thought that the quality could be
considerably improved by obtaining a better standard of sheep in the
country. Experiments were first tried by breeding from specially
selected animals belonging to the country, but results were not
very encouraging. It was then decided to import from Algeria a
certain number of rams for breeding with the native sheep.
Before dinner we paid a visit to the sheep-pen. One of our party
was a veterinary officer, who had just arrived to investigate some
sickness which had recently broken out among the animals. There
were forty of these Algerian rams, but unfortunately the sickness
referred to had spread to an alarming extent amongst them, and when I
saw them they were in poor condition. Shearing had been taking place
that day, some very fair samples of wool being shown me. In spite of
their haggard appearance the Algerian rams were decidedly superior
to the West African sheep, the latter looking surprisingly small and
puny in comparison. The enclosure in which the sheep were penned was
a mud wall six feet high, while the only entrance was closed by a
stout wooden door heavily barred. I was struck by the thickness of
the door and asked the reason for such precautions. I was told that
leopards were common in that district, so it was advisable to secure
the sheep against a possible raid. Strange to relate, that very
night we were to have an illustration of the presence of a leopard!
The natives of this part of the Niger keep big flocks of sheep,
the price of one of these animals being ridiculously small. A big
sheep can be bought for 1 franc 50 cts., and the mutton is of quite
good quality. Any science in breeding is, however, totally unknown
to these people, hence the breed is tending to deteriorate. During
the cool season the sheep have plenty of pasturage, but towards
the end of the hot season food is scarce and poor. The French are
anxious to develop their wool trade, hence their efforts to improve
the quality of the wool which is produced in the Western Soudan.
For such articles as rough carpets, blankets, etc., the existing
wool is much used in Europe, but a finer quality is required if
the trade is to be really remunerative.
A white blanket is made from the wool of the Soudan sheep, and is
embroidered with red or green threads. This blanket, although rough,
is a most serviceable article on the cold nights so frequently
experienced in this part of the country. The natives use them as a
covering for themselves by day, and as a bed-wrap at night. This was
the only article manufactured by these people with their own wool.
Some time after we had retired to bed I was suddenly aroused
by hearing loud exclamations of alarm proceeding from the native
quarter close by. I rushed out with my rifle in hand and was met by
my hosts, also in night attire, the veterinary officer being armed
like myself. A scared negro appeared at this juncture with the news
that a leopard had come into the sheep-pen, having jumped over
the wall, and had carried off a sheep. The alarm had been raised
by hearing a commotion in the pen, and the leopard was actually
seen by one man bounding over the wall with his prey. The vet and
I immediately started off on the frail hope of coming up with the
animal, but as there was no moon the tracks had to be followed
by a lamp. This tedious process led us eventually to some bush,
in which the tracks were completely lost. The following morning
the animal’s pug marks were distinctly visible near the house in
which we had slept. It appeared to have circled round the place
several times before it had made its raid on the sheep. After
this accident the wall of the sheep-pen was raised considerably,
the top being covered with a few strands of barbed wire.
A mile from Gauba is the Government ostrich farm. The farm is managed
by a European—who was unfortunately absent when I was there—and
contains about forty birds. These have been caught young by natives
and are kept with a view to breeding. The ostriches give two crops
of feathers annually, in January and June. At present the farm is
only in an experimental state, but it is hoped in time to produce a
large quantity of feathers from the place. The manager was then on a
tour down the Niger in order to try to find a more suitable site for
the farm. It must be near the desert, for ostriches are more easily
obtained from natives there; also, it is found that the desert air is
better suited to the birds, which produce finer feathers if kept in
their natural atmosphere. From Niafounké down-stream, and upon both
banks of the river, ostriches are found. Sandy country is essential
to them, hence in the parts where there are widely irrigated areas
between the rivers Issa-Ber and Bara-Issa, the birds are not met
with. Although ostriches are fairly numerous in certain parts of the
country, it cannot be said that they are at all common. They are
extremely shy birds, thus being most difficult to approach. Their
eyesight is wonderfully keen. They will perceive you when you are
still 600 yards off, and it requires great patience and energy
to successfully stalk them within practicable rifle range. Their
commanding height gives them a great advantage when pursued by man,
and the speed with which their long legs can cover the ground is
astonishing. Ostriches will easily outstrip a galloping horse,
consequently the only way to approach them is by wile, although I
have been told that sometimes they can be worn down by persistent
pursuit on horseback.
Of desert vegetation they seem to prefer a plant somewhat resembling
a pumpkin, which creeps on the ground. On this they are fed chiefly
at the ostrich farm, but, of course, an ostrich will eat almost
anything, and I fancy their diet is not a matter needing much care
and forethought. It is a curious fact that ostrich feathers are
nearly as expensive in the French Soudan as they are in England. On
several occasions I bought some, but they were so high in price as
really hardly to be worth buying. The truth is that ostrich hunting
in the Western Soudan is in such an undeveloped state that the
natives who have feathers for sale ask fancy prices, and usually
get them.
The ostrich farm near Niafounké is not well placed and the situation
is certain soon to be changed.
My plans were now to try for lion along the banks of the Niger,
near a place called Sébi, and afterwards to make for Saraere,
where there was also the possibility of lion, and finally to march
to Lake Bambara Maaundé, a fine hunting locality for elephant and
several varieties of big game. Most of the inhabitants here are
Fulanis, and their occupation is tending big herds of cattle. The
country is thinly populated, and thus is well suited for game. A
horse was essential for shooting, but I was unable to buy one, so
had to be content for the present with hiring daily from village
to village—a troublesome and unsatisfactory proceeding.