Rubber is collected in balls, which have a dirty greyish appearance, and it is in this form that it is sold to the merchants. To increase the weight of these balls it is a common practice for the wily natives to mix water with the rubber, or to place mud or some heavy substance in the interior. These tricks are now becoming well known to the European trader, who is not often deceived by them, although, when the ruse was first started, I understand it met with considerable success. It is probable that a large portion of French Guinea will be entirely devoted to the rubber trade in the future, for it is mostly a rather scrubby bush-country eminently suited to this particular commerce. Owing to the large and increasing demand for rubber at the present time, Guinea rubber, which is of good quality, commands a high price in France.

At Kankan I had to change my carriers, and here I arranged to send all the kit which I did not require on to Bamako, while only taking a month’s stores, my rifles and camp equipment, on my shooting trip into Wasulu country. After an interview with one of the French trading firms, it was settled that my surplus baggage should be forwarded in their lighters by river to Bamako, where I would find it on my arrival at that place.

My carriers were now reduced to eight, and with this small party I set out on the 3rd of February. For the first few miles the road was the main route to the gold-mining district of Siguiri, a fine, broad highway which joins Kankan to the town of that name, a distance of sixty miles. After leaving this road we turned into a small bush path, striking nearly due east into the heart of the Wasulu country. At Niansumana the Milo River is crossed. It is a stream about 100 yards wide, which we found fordable at this season. That evening I observed a big drum in the chief’s compound, and thinking it might be of some service to me, I inquired whether the village would send word of my approach to the town of Falama, and ask if the hunters I required were ready. The chief readily acquiesced, stating that within an hour the people of Falama would have knowledge of the message. Falama was nearly fifty miles from Niansumana, so that I was anxious to see if the experiment would really be successful. In less than three hours a reply had come from the hunters to say they were ready awaiting me.

These drums are much used for signalling in this part of the country, and without doubt account for the rapidity with which news becomes known at a considerable distance from the spot where it originates. The drums are made of a rough piece of log hollowed out, often as much as four feet long, with the ends covered with goat’s skin stretched taut. The drummer beats on the end with a couple of sticks, or with his hands. It is wonderful how skilled they are about sending quite long messages in this way. Of course, every native does not understand the drum language. An expert ear is necessary to send as well as to read a message. When war is declared the inhabitants of the surrounding villages are all made aware of the news by a drum message. In fact, when rapidity is an object, the natives prefer to send their messages this way rather than by messenger. The drum is in common use in many West African countries. It is frequently used to call the people together for a palaver, and can be heard by men working in the most distant farms, who at once obey the signal, leaving their crops to return to the town.

We were now getting into a more open country watered by numerous streams, most of which flowed north-west into the Niger. Villages were becoming scarcer, and it was evident that the country was more thinly populated. I was careful at each village I passed to make inquiries for game, but it appeared that the game country hardly started before the Sankarani River, which I should cross before arriving at Falama. Cattle were far more numerous here than I had yet seen them. The milk was exceedingly rich, and I was always supplied with a large bowl of it on camping near a village. The people were mostly cattle-men, and were a fine stalwart race. The men must average five feet ten inches. The women are considerably smaller. The latter go in for a great deal of personal adornment. Their hair is dressed in small ringlets, screwed up tightly to the side of the head, giving them a decidedly comical appearance, and hardly enhancing their rather doubtful claims to good looks. The wealthier women wear a large amount of cheap jewellery. Their fingers and toes are decorated with silver rings, generally about as thick as a lady’s bracelet in England. Their necks are freely adorned with necklaces of large yellow or blue beads. Like most native women, they are extremely fond of bright-coloured dresses.

CHAPTER VII

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.

CHAPTER VIII

Mamadu’s new hat — Tribal marks — Unreliable guides — A lonely prospector — Bolting carriers — A local chief — More trouble with carriers — Hunting eland — Sand-flies and mosquitoes — The headman’s duty — Undesirable presents — Jomongonas — A magnificent view — Jilingé — Gold — Superstition of the River Fie — A Niger ferry — An unappreciated delicacy — Fishing on the Niger.

AT Falama I procured the requisite carriers from the chief. It was arranged that they should accompany me all the way to the Niger, should I find any difficulty in replacing them before that river was reached. I was particularly careful to have this explained to each individual carrier in the presence of his chief, for I had had some experience of the difficulty of keeping these men to their promises already. A favourite trick of this class of gentleman is, after being most fervent in his protests of wishing for no happier lot than to accompany you as far as you want to go, suddenly, and generally at a most awkward moment, to casually cast your belongings into the bush and run away. One has in such cases nothing but the grim consolation that he has deprived himself of his pay, which is but poor satisfaction for the annoyance and inconvenience he causes you. The chief of Falama was a man of some influence, being also one of the leading magnates of the Wasulu country. I therefore hoped that his authority would be sufficient to ensure their remaining faithful to me.

At Falama Mamadu invested in a new hat. This was a wonderful bit of head-gear. The hat was made of plaited straw of several bright colours, among which green and red were most prominent. It was made with a very wide brim, and the top worked up to a point, in conical fashion. It certainly had the advantage of protecting him from the glare of the sun, for it was at least two sizes too big for him, so that it descended right over his eyes and almost rested on the bridge of his nose. He was greatly pleased with his new purchase, bringing it to me to show off with much pride.

Among my new carriers I noticed one with different tribal marks from the rest. On inquiry I was told he came from the Sanafou country near the Ivory Coast Colony. His face was beautifully decorated with four semicircular gashes, each about a quarter of an inch wide, down both sides. These cuts started on the temple about on the level of the eyes, and went right down the cheeks to the mouth, at which point they converged. They certainly gave him a very remarkable appearance, rather suggestive at a distance of the black marks put on the face of a clown in a circus. A good knowledge of tribal marks will often enable one to tell the tribe of a man at sight. They are not, however, an infallible proof of the tribe of an individual, for sometimes a boy, when taken into slavery, will have the marks of his master’s tribe cut upon his face. Some races do not practise the custom of tribal marks. But it is generally done in all pagan nations. The Wasulu marks consisted of two or three very thin cuts made vertically down each cheek, usually not more than three inches long. The marks were often so slight as not to be noticeable except at close quarters.

My shortest road was across the Sankarani River, then up the valley of the Fie, finally crossing the Niger a little south of Kangaba, and following its left bank to Bamako. A reliable guide was an unknown article in these parts. The natives of this region are not traders, consequently they travel little. I had to depend on getting a guide day by day to lead me through the bush-country which intervened between me and the Niger; but once on the other side of that stream, there was said to be an excellent road leading to Bamako.

The first part of the journey lay across hills of laterite rock. Our track could only by courtesy be dignified by the name of a path. The country was practically uninhabited, although, as usual in this district, there were numerous traces of ruined villages, all testifying to the devastations of Samory.

At one place I saw the remains of a hut, rapidly falling into decay. I was rather surprised to observe a weather-beaten old board nailed on a tree opposite the door. This board had some writing on it, which was with difficulty decipherable. It stated that a man called Paul Rieu had for two years made his home in that hut, where he had stayed while seeking gold in the vicinity. As a proof of his words I could see pits dug at the small river near by, and evidently made by him during his search for the precious metal. He must have been all alone; and what a dreary life to lead in this desolate spot, with nothing but the wild African bush for miles on all sides! I conclude his search was not successful. The poor fellow must have gone away disappointed after two years of lonely toiling under the hot tropical sun.

After this the country began to get more open, and it was evident that we were rapidly descending towards the Sankarani River. We passed through a wide grassy plain on to the right bank of the river. It looked a likely place for kob, which are fond of the marshy swamps bordering on streams; but though I saw some fairly fresh tracks we did not come across any of these antelope. The river is about 100 yards wide here, and has a very swift current. I looked in vain for a canoe, as it was impossible to ford it. In the distance we could see a village on the far bank, but the people could not, or would not, hear our repeated shouts. A few shots from my rifle eventually brought out some men who half hid in the bush, thinking we were come to “make war.” Probably the last time they had heard rifles fired was during the Sofa war, and the unaccustomed sound called up unwelcome memories of rapine and slaughter. With some difficulty I managed to reassure them, and proceeded to explain we merely wanted a canoe to convey us and our belongings to the other shore.

We halted at the village, which was called Balandougou, and it was here that my troubles with the porters commenced.

In the afternoon I had been out to see if I could pick up a few bushfowl on some likely-looking farms close by, and on my return was met by Mamadu, who told me that he had heard the carriers talking about deserting me. Although I only wanted eight men, I was aware that it would be extremely hard to get any to replace them at this village, which had only a score of inhabitants, mostly decrepit men and women or quite young children. I was therefore determined not to give them the opportunity of bolting. Further, I was much annoyed at their faithless behaviour, after their promises to accompany me until I reached the Niger, if necessary. I summoned them at once, telling them I had knowledge of their intention to desert, and that any man attempting to do so would be flogged. They all denied they had ever been guilty of such a base thought! But, needless to say, I did not believe them. That night I made them all sleep in the same hut, pitching my camp bed outside one exit, while Mamadu was made to sleep outside the other.

This little arrangement successfully stopped them from carrying out any projects they might have formed. Next day I had to take precautions on the march to prevent their defection. I constituted myself rearguard, making my servant walk beside the leading carrier, and in this order we proceeded until we arrived at a large village about eleven o’clock. Here I decided to halt for breakfast and interview the headman with a view to getting fresh porters. As a matter of fact, the headman of the place was a local chief of some importance, as I soon perceived, when he arrived dressed in a finely embroidered gown and wearing a sword. Certain chiefs in Guinea are allowed by the French to wear swords as a mark of rank. He came with a picturesque following of courtiers, such as these men love to surround themselves with.

They have usually several advisers among them, and it is quite amusing to notice how the advisers often rule their king. Frequently, when asking a chief a question, one will notice that he is not even given the chance of answering for himself; his so-called adviser chips in with his answer before the chief has time to open his mouth! They came to the hut which had been prepared for my breakfast, sitting down at my invitation. After a lengthy palaver it was settled that eight carriers were to be sent to the spot where I should camp that night to replace my present gang. This seemed preferable to the alternative of waiting here till evening for the young men to come in from their farms, where they were now at work. I despatched Mamadu to inform my porters that they would be released that same night as soon as their reliefs arrived, and then settled myself down to breakfast. It never occurred to me that it would be necessary to any longer keep guard over them, as they now knew they would so soon be released.

After my meal I went outside the hut for a stroll, when to my disgust I saw only three carriers remaining, while a couple of them were just to be seen running as fast as their legs would carry them towards the bush in the distance. Having threatened the remaining three with dire vengeance should they try to follow their comrades, I despatched Mamadu to the chief to order him to have the defaulters caught without delay. At the end of a couple of hours the fugitives were brought back, and I was able to proceed on my journey. We resumed the march in the same order as that morning, for it was obviously not safe to let them go unguarded.

All the time I was rather anxious as to the chances of the chief fulfilling his promises about sending me the fresh carriers that night. However, there was nothing to be done but to hope for the best, and in the meantime to keep a sharp eye on my present porters. That night I halted at a small stream, which was the only water within some miles, and was the place where I had directed the new carriers to meet me. I did not much relish the prospects of the evening before me; keeping a watch on the would-be truants and slumber were two things that would hardly reconcile themselves without the assistance of the friendly hut of yesterday. About 9 p.m., however, to my joy, I heard a commotion outside the small camp, and on going out of my tent found it indicated the arrival of the carriers from the previous halting-place. The chief had after all been honest to his promises, and I had been unjust to his majesty.

The following morning I made a very early start, about four o’clock, with the intention of trying for a West African eland. My “boy” and carriers were to go on to a small village only some ten miles away, where I would join them that night. I had been told that eland were to be found in this neighbourhood, and had myself seen tracks of one the previous day. Not having time to wait more than a day in that part of the country, I did not feel inclined to go away without trying my luck after one of these fine animals. The eland is one of the very largest of West African antelopes, and is decidedly rare. The horns make a splendid trophy, which I was most anxious to add, if possible, to my collection. One of my new carriers professed to be a hunting-man out of work and to know the country well, so I had arranged to take him with me. We were now on the watershed between the Rivers Fie and Sankarani, a rather sparsely wooded country, intersected by several small streams which flowed down on either side to join the two big rivers in due course. The haunts of the eland were said to be on the eastern side towards the Sankarani River, whither we directed our steps.

The ground slopes gradually here down to the river, and was some of the prettiest scenery I had seen since my entry into French Guinea. Large stretches of open grass-land alternated with park-like country, and occasionally one came on a more thickly wooded part, through which ran sylvan glades, carpeted with emerald-green grass, by the side of which flowed a tiny stream of crystal water. The spot seemed a paradise for game of all sorts, judging by the numerous tracks. My time was too limited, unfortunately, to allow of other game than eland to be pursued. I must own I felt sorry now that I had not come straight to this place instead of spending those last few days in Wasulu on a fruitless expedition after the elephant. I simply could not afford to spend more than the single day in this pleasant game-haunted locality. My plan was to devote all my time till four o’clock to the joys of the chase, by which hour, if luck favoured me, I hoped to have bagged an eland; in any case, I would have to wend my steps campward by that time, as I should probably have three or four hours of walking in front of me.

My cherished hopes were, however, doomed to disappointment, for although we searched all the most likely places, not a sign of the beasts could we discover. There were, it was true, a good many old tracks, but that was poor consolation. It seemed that I was out of luck just now; first there was my disappointment about the elephant in Wasulu, and now the evasive eland was having a laugh at my expense. Cheering myself up with the thought that there must be a good time in store for me in the near future, at four o’clock I directed my shikari to show me the homeward path. It was dark by the time we got out of the bush on to the track, and I was not sorry at last to see the cheerful glow of a fire in the distance which indicated the position of my hut. I had been on my legs for a good many hours that day, and that, with the natural feeling of disappointment, made me feel really tired. A hot bath, dinner and a pipe by the fireside made me feel a new man again. It was my invariable custom to have a fire of logs at night. This was useful more especially to keep off the mosquitoes, which are always most assiduous in their onslaughts after sunset.

Sand-flies, too, were bad in many places, and the ordinary mosquito-net was of no use against these tiny, venomous creatures. The meshes, close enough to protect you from the attacks of the “anopheles,” were by no means impermeable to the minute sand-fly. Fortunately for me, I had previous experience of these wicked insects, and had prepared myself with a net of close meshes to guard me against their unwelcome attentions. To travellers in the bush I would always recommend a net with fine meshes, for sand-flies are not uncommon in any part of West Africa. The chief drawback is that one naturally feels hotter in this pattern of net, but to my mind this is infinitely preferable to being tortured by sand-flies all night, thereby making sleep a physical impossibility.

On my arrival I was told by Mamadu that the chief had refused to provide “chop” for the carriers, saying he had none in the place. I at once sent for the old man to ask for some explanation, as I was well aware that rice or millet was fairly abundant at this time of year, and my party was a small one to cater for.

After a good deal of palaver and threats on my part of reporting him to the Commissioner at Siguiri, in which district I was now travelling, he was reduced to a more sensible frame of mind, and hurried off to carry out my orders with considerable alacrity. This was the first occasion on which I had had any trouble about rationing my followers.

The French have an excellent custom in Guinea, and one which I had previously never found to fail me. When a white man arrives in a village it is the duty of the chief or headman, without any order from the traveller, to at once provide and cook sufficient food for the whole party of carriers and “boys.” The ration is about one and a half pounds of rice or millet per head. The meal is brought to the European for inspection about sundown, and payment is then made at the tariff rates. In some places the headman or chief will bring presents of fowls, or perhaps some eggs. When the native is a rich man he will often even produce a sheep or cow. These presents, of course, cannot be accepted without payment, or a return present in kind of about equal value. Some people give a return present of much greater value in money or kind, but this system seems to me to be a bad one, as it encourages these natives to make a sort of trade, most profitable to themselves, in so-called “presents.”

The French deprecate the habit of paying more than the actual value to the individual concerned. I have frequently found this custom of “presents” such a nuisance that I now inform the chief on my arrival in a town of exactly what I require in the way of food, at the same time telling him that “presents” are not wanted. There is no doubt that this saves a good deal of annoyance and unnecessary expense. It would, for instance, be most inconvenient and rather expensive to be “dashed” a bullock, when one’s following only consisted of eight persons, and to have to expend four or five pounds in payment therefor. To encumber oneself with a live bullock until one had a chance to dispose of it would be an impossibility, and the only alternative is to slaughter it at once. It will be realized that this sort of entertainment, if repeated three or four times, would soon lead to bankruptcy! I recollect seeing a curious and amusing kind of “dash” made on one occasion.

A friend of mine, who was a distinguished official, had been to a country which had only lately come under control of the Government, and in which the natives were unaccustomed to the usual method of showing their appreciation of a white man’s visit. They evidently thought that this was a moment when a great effort must be made to display their generosity. A solemn cortège arrived, headed by the chief, with the “dash.” I shall never forget the horror-stricken look on my friend’s face when, with due ceremony, a young girl was produced and handed over to him. As the official in question was a particularly shy and modest man, the full humour of the situation will be thoroughly appreciated.

The following day the country began to take on a more populated appearance. Large expanses of land planted with crops of millet and cassada were to be seen, while villages became more frequent and natives passed us from time to time on the road. About eight o’clock in the morning we arrived at the top of a big hill, upon the summit of which there was perched a small hamlet. The headman brought out a calabash of delicious fresh milk, rich and frothy, just drawn from the cow. I gladly took a cup of the refreshing beverage while we were waiting for the last carriers to come in. These people were Jomongonas, a section of the widely distributed Malinké tribe. They are purely agriculturists, as was indeed evidenced by the wide farms of waving crops through which we had passed.

The view from the top of this hill was magnificent. We were now well down the western slope of the Sankarani-Fie watershed, and from here I got my first glimpse of the latter river. To the north there ran a mass of isolated peaks, like a series of broken links in the chain of hills along which we had been marching for the last two days. The reddish-brown hue of the laterite rocks of which they were formed made a pleasing contrast to the golden fields of ripe millet scattered chequerwise over their steep sides. Far away in the south could be seen the River Fie, a tiny shimmering streak of water, gradually widening, as it flowed westward to join the Niger, into an imposing expanse. The valley through which it flowed was a wide, fruitful plain, where cassada and millet crops jostled against each other, and in the centre of which could be discerned a thin line of rich, dark green foliage, marking the course of the winding stream.

Overhead was a bright, azure sky with the golden rays of the morning sun shining upon the smiling landscape. We rested that night at the town of Jilingé, the biggest place I had yet seen in the bush-country of Guinea, and the centre of the millet-growing district. Jilingé consists of three large villages, each of which on a rough estimate must contain 2000 inhabitants. The central village is the principal one, and it is here the chief of the Jomongonas resides. I was lodged in a palatial hut, with two imposing, carved wooden doors, and what was more to the purpose, they were doors through which one could enter without fear of knocking one’s head. Most West African huts have one point in common, that the doors are built so low that it is necessary for the shortest person who wishes to enter to double him or herself up in a most undignified fashion if a severe blow on the head is to be avoided.

My house was also roomy and airy in comparison to the average edifice it had been my fate to live in, so I began to feel myself in luxury. My feelings of comfort and rest were, however, soon to be crushed. Mamadu arrived at the door with a long face, which I felt sure meant some catastrophe of a serious nature. His news was that the carriers had all bolted. This was really too annoying just when I thought I had got matters satisfactorily arranged till we should reach the Niger. I suppose the sight of such a metropolis, as Jilingé must appear to them, had produced this demoralizing effect. I summoned the chief for a palaver on the carrier question, with imprecations on my lips against the faithless fugitives. The chief was amiability itself, and promised me as many men as I should want for the following day; but there was one small matter on which we could not agree. He said the carriers should take my loads as far as the next village, where I could procure fresh men, who would carry for me to the succeeding village, and so on.

As the country was now getting thickly populated, it appeared that I would have to change my porters every two miles or so, in other words, ten times before reaching the Niger! It is hardly to be wondered at that I vowed I would never do this, even if I had to take the chief with me to ensure my carriers remaining faithful. He intimated that this was the custom of the country, and had so been from time immemorial. I politely replied that I was the last person in the world to wish to break old customs (this custom did seem such a probable one!), but that it was also a custom for chiefs to supply white men with carriers when necessary, and for as long as they might be required in a particular “cercle,” as the French call their districts. It was not till I had tried every conceivable argument, and had at last to resort to the old threat of reporting him to the Commissioner, that he finally promised his men should go as far as I desired. True it is that by this time I was aware the chiefs had not much influence over their people, and the promise he had given might be broken through no fault of his; still, it would have been impossible to get the fellows even to start without him, so I had to hope for the best while fearing the worst.