Part 16

When all were aboard we paddled slowly across to the natives, who were obviously shy. Anchoring the canoe by clinging to the grass, we held a kind of introduction ceremony. Among the natives we were glad to see our friend of yesterday’s hippo-spear incident. We laid bare to them our object in ascending this river, and asked in return with whom we had to deal. They said that they came from the south, to reach their village requiring four days’ travelling without loads. Knowing the kind of thing they meant by this, I estimated the distance at about 180 or 200 miles. They disclosed also that they had originally been under Senussi at Ndélé, that they still paid taxes and found labour for that post, but that since the occupation of the country by the French, following upon the killing of the old Sultan Senussi, they now lived three or four days’ march to the north of the post Ndélé. While Senussi reigned they had been obliged to live in the capital; as with Buba Gida, all the inhabitants of the country for 300 miles round had been “gathered in.” Meanwhile, they said, elephant were now in the neighbourhood and that they could show us them. We were ready in a very few moments to accompany them, merely taking a mosquito net, a small packet of tea and sugar and a kettle. Presently we joined up with some more natives, some of whom were armed with the enormous elephant spear of the Arab elephant hunters, whose country lay to the north. These spears have a leaf-shaped head from 7 ins. to 9 ins. across, and are kept razor-edged. The system of hunting is this. In the dry season, when most of the grass has been burnt off and the harmatan is blowing, all the young bloods arrange an expedition. The harmatan is the north-east monsoon of the Indian Ocean, and is a hard breeze at midday of a velocity of about 30 m.p.h., dry and hot when it comes off the desert, and constant as regards direction. At this season so dry is the air that sound carries no distance, and one may walk up to within a few feet of elephant without fear of discovery. These expeditions sometimes number 300 spears. All the old crocks of horses are raked up. The rich are represented on the expedition by slaves, mostly on foot. All are armed with the huge spears, with their bamboo shanks 10 ft. or 12 ft. long. Off they set for the south, poorly supplied with food, as they reckon to live “tough” on what they can kill. When they set out they and the horses are in very good condition, but when they return the men are haggard and thin, leg-weary and footsore, while most of the horses are bleached and well gnawed skeletons in the bush. Few survive the hard work, poor food, and constant attacks of the tsetse fly. When they meet with the fairly recent trail of a herd of elephant they take it up with tremendous vigour, push along it without a stop until dark, camp, on again next day without a stop, perhaps camp again and eventually sight their quarry. Then those on horses dismount, the protectors are taken off the razor-sharp spear-heads, and all advance shoulder to shoulder, spears held projecting 6 ft. or 7 ft. in front, the flat of the spear-head lying in a horizontal direction. With the harmatan blowing its hardest it is possible for the line of spear-men to come within thrusting distance of the elephants’ sterns, and at a signal the spears are driven in with the aim of cutting the large tendons and arteries. Hence the width of spear-head. In the consequent commotion casualties among the spear-men are frequent, as might be expected. Off go the unwounded animals, the horses are brought, and the chase is again taken up. Now the elephant will not stop for miles and miles, so they must be ridden to a standstill, or nearly so, before another assault on them can be attempted. Away into desperately dry and waterless country they go, but, try as they may, those human devils are always with them. The hardships these latter bear are almost incredible. They seldom have water or food with them. Often they are starving, and their only hope, the death of an elephant. Kill, or die miserably in the bush, is not a bad system and, as might be expected, leads to perfectly awful destruction of elephant life. Ivory is primarily the object, but, as the hunt develops, water and meat become of more importance. Water, I must explain, is obtained from the elephants’ intestines and, although warm, is quite good to drink. In the average herd cows and calves predominate, consequently they suffer most. In the case of this country the coming of the white man is the indirect cause of the destruction of elephant, and not, as in other parts of Africa, the direct cause of their protection. Natives are permitted to hunt elephant in the above manner on payment of a small fee, in order that they may acquire the wherewithal to pay their taxes—a policy short-sighted indeed, when we remember Darwin’s calculation that in 900 years two elephants become a million.

With our newly-found friends as guides we were soon on the trail of our game, and by their aid we ran into and killed late in the afternoon. Our friends were simply overjoyed at the sight of so much meat. They became extremely friendly, cutting grass for my bed, fetching wood and water, ready to do anything. From being rather surly and reserved they became very communicative. As they roasted tit-bits from the elephants on their fires nothing but shouts of laughter and merry chatter could be heard. And when, later, we had all eaten and everyone was smoking—for they carried tobacco—they told me more of themselves. I found that they all talked Sango. They said that every dry season they came to the Bahr Aouck to hunt hippo or elephant, but that so far they had had no luck. During the rains the whole country for miles on either side was under water. No villages existed nearer the river than theirs. They knew the river up to the point where it issued from Lake Mamun. This item was a complete surprise to me, for I had never heard it even suggested that the Bahr Aouck issued from that lake. I pressed my enquiries among the older men, and arrived at the information that shortly after leaving the lake the Bahr Aouck was joined by another river which came from a country I knew to be within the Egyptian Sudan border. I asked after the natives of Lake Mamun, who were supposed to live on the waters themselves, constructing for that purpose huts on piles. They told me that since the slave-raids had ceased, when Senussi was shot by the French, the natives had abandoned their lake dwellings and now lived on the shores like normal people. They said that the whole country ahead was teeming with game. I had learnt more in half an hour round the camp-fire with full bellies than weeks of intercourse in the ordinary way would have yielded. Such is the power of meat on the African.

This system of penetrating the country by feeding the natives has the disadvantage that if you kill a large animal they dry the meat they cannot eat and take it home to their villages, when it can be bartered for all kinds of commodities. Therefore you have constantly to be making new acquaintances. Everything else is entirely in its favour, not the least being its economy. They will carry light loads for you for days through the bush, hunt diligently for game, chop out and carry to the base any ivory you may get. If you are within fifty miles or so of villages the women bring food of all sorts, and it is seldom that a few eggs—more or less fresh—are not forthcoming for the white man. Then they hold dances in the camps. When there are plenty of young girls about these dances become rather loose affairs. The usual restraints of village life seem to be relaxed in the bush, and everyone enjoys himself or herself to the utmost. Abundance of animal food has a curious effect on natives. Where they inhabit stockless country they go months without flesh, with the exception of an occasional rat or mongoose or bird. The craving for meat becomes intense, and is, in my opinion, the cause of cannibalism. Then when they suddenly become possessed of almost unlimited meat they simply gorge themselves. A man will eat 15 lb. or 20 lb. in the twenty-four hours. All night long he eats and dozes, then eats again. This turns him a peculiar dull matt colour and yellow in the eyes. On the third day he has completely recovered from this and is again full of energy. In a very short time he wants his grain food again, and if he has the choice will eat a large portion of grain to a small portion of meat. If, as with elephant, there is a good proportion of fat, natives become extremely fit on these rations. As an example of this I can cite the case of a “kilangozi,” or head porter, of mine. This man, of slight build, carried a tusk weighing 148 lb. plus his mat, blanket and rations, another 15 lb., for sixty-three days’ consecutive marching. The shortest day was five hours, and some were very long indeed. He had as rations throughout this march 2 lb. of native grain each day and as much meat as he cared for with elephant fat. His condition was magnificent throughout.

In the morning I pushed off to look for elephant. The natives promised to cut out the tusks and to bring them to the canoes, which they faithfully did.

After hunting in this region for some days, during which we saw many lion and killed six, we pushed on up-stream again. We were soon held up by more elephant and more natives. The news of our doings had already reached the villages south of us, and we had a continuous stream of natives coming hungry to us, carrying our bush loads all over the country, to be rewarded eventually with meat, and then stopping to smoke it while their places were taken by newcomers. So prolific in game was the country that we never reached Lake Mamun, as we had intended. Our time was up, food exhausted and canoes laden. So one fine day we decided to return.

XIII

BUFFALO

There is no animal in Africa with such a sinister reputation as the buffalo, whether the bush cow of West Africa or the great black Cape buffalo be under discussion. It has been repeatedly accused of dreadful cunning and great ferocity, and it has undoubtedly caused many deaths and maulings among both white and native hunters. Among the cases which have come under my own observation or of which I have heard from reliable sources, the maulings have been far more numerous than the deaths. The wounds caused by buffalo horns seem to heal better than lion bites; the latter, when made by old lions with dirty teeth, can be very troublesome.

Why the buffalo should have got such an evil name has always rather puzzled me. I have shot hundreds of both kinds during my hunting career, and I have never been charged. And yet I have constantly read of fierce encounters between hunters and their game. Two white men were killed recently in Nigeria by a bush cow, and I have frequently asked for certain natives by name on revisiting villages and have been told that they have been killed by buffalo. Yet, even when I came suddenly on a buffalo bull lying wounded in thick stuff, he did not charge. This animal had been mauled by lion, and according to all the rules should have charged as soon as he became aware of my approach. What he would have done had I not put a bullet through his neck I do not know. Perhaps he might have charged.

I well remember the mixed awe and apprehension with which I approached a herd of buffalo in my early hunting efforts. I had read of all the hair-breadth escapes hunters usually had with these animals, of their diabolical cunning, etc., and I was quite determined not to wound any. I was also very cautious not to approach too near. There were many of them out in fairly short grass. I could see them all clearly, and as we wanted meat I thought I would select a nice fat cow. With me were about forty young bloods from the tribe with which I was hunting. They were all fully armed in their fashion—each man carried two thrusting spears and a rhino or giraffe hide shield. The reason they carried shields was that we had been hunting elephant in no man’s land, where prowlers from the enemy, _i.e._, the neighbouring tribe, might have been met. Telling this mob to get away back while I did the shooting I left them and approached the browsing and unsuspicious herd. Selecting what I thought would be a fat one, I fired. Without pausing or wavering the whole herd started straight for me, closing together as they came. I fired again at one of the leaders and then started to get out of their way. As I ran to the side I met and ran through the forty spear-men, who were now rushing straight to meet the herd. Stopping and turning, I was astounded to see these fellows right in among the buffalo, some retreating cleverly backwards and receiving the charging animals’ rushes on their shields, while others jabbed spears into their vitals from the sides. No sooner was an animal down than off they went after the retreating herd. And here, again, all my preconceived notions were upset, for the natives caught up with the buffalo again and killed several more. But for the herd’s arrival at a belt of forest, perhaps they would all have been speared. Not a native was touched. I must say I was rather staggered by what had taken place; the awe-inspiring charge was apparently a simple running away; the terrific speed, strength and agility of the story-book buffalo all shown up by a handful of nimble lads armed with soft iron spears; the formidable buffalo made to cut a very poor figure, and the white man with his wonderful gun made to look extremely foolish.

This incident put me right about buffalo, I think, for I have killed scores and scores since, and I have never had any trouble with them. I have shot them in West Africa, where they are usually met in thick stuff and in long grass, and also in the Liberian forests, east of the Nile and in the Congo—and invariably with small bores. The most killing bullet I found to be the solid.

The stampede or rush straight towards the shot was a fairly frequent occurrence in my experience; and if one were convinced that the animals were charging, one would have to write down the buffalo as an extremely dangerous animal were it not for the ease with which they are killed with end-on delivered solid bullets. Of course, flesh wounds are no good. The vitals _must be raked_. But in thick stuff the target is so close and so big that no one should miss it, as for all game of this nature a reliable magazine rifle is streets ahead of a double. In a mix-up with buffalo in bush it is sometimes necessary to fire four or even five shots in rapid succession, and for this the double is mere handicap.

Much has been written about the difference in colour among buffalo, and there have been attempts to separate them into different races. How all the colours may be found in one herd may be witnessed on the Shari River in the dry season when the grass has been burned. I have shot a grey bull, a black bull, a red and a fawn-coloured bull from the same herd, all fully adult. And I shot them after watching the herd through glasses for fully half an hour, during which time I saw many of each of the above colours. It must not be supposed that this was an isolated instance of these colours happening in the same herd, for every time I saw any considerable number of big buffalo in open country I have observed the same sprinkling of colours.

The jet black is the colour of the solitary bulls one meets casually, and I imagine from that that black is the final colour.

As with the semi-wild domesticated cattle of the ranching districts of America, the sight or smell of blood seems to infuriate buffalo more than anything. On one occasion when in want of meat I hit a cow buffalo in the lungs with a ·22 high-velocity bullet. She was one of a small herd, and as she staggered about in her death agony all the others, including the calves and yearlings, went for her, goring her and knocking her about and completely hiding her from me. They were dreadfully excited, bellowing and roaring and even butting at one another.

Natives of almost all tribes have far less respect for buffalo than the white hunters. They will attack buffalo with very primitive weapons. I remember once going after an old bull buffalo which had spent the night in a native garden. Two middle-aged natives tracked for me. Each carried an abnormal number of short spears, for what purpose I did not understand until later. They tracked well and quickly as the dew was still on the ground, and wherever the buffalo had passed was a perfectly plain track. We presently came to a large depression filled with high reeds well over a man’s head. Here, the natives said, we were sure to find our game. Now, at this time I was still in my novitiate as regards buffalo, and my head was stuffed with the nonsense one is usually told about these animals. Consequently, I was rather surprised that the natives should be still willing to go out into the reed-bed. However, I thought it was up to me to lead the way, and I did so for a few yards, when we got into such a maze of buffalo tracks and runs and tunnels that I was obliged to let one of the natives re-find the tracks and lead the way. This he did quite cheerfully, handing to his companion his surplus spears. On we went into the most appalling stuff—reeds fourteen feet or fifteen feet high, and so strong and dense that one could not force one’s way along except in the buffalo runs. Visibility was good for about two yards ahead. I felt very uncomfortable indeed, but what gave me confidence was that the leading native was quite at ease, and I kept thinking that he ought to know all about buffalo, if anyone did. Personally I expected to see infuriated buffalo suddenly appearing at a yard’s range at any moment.

We went very quietly, and after prowling for half an hour the leader stopped. We stood listening, and there, as it were almost at arm’s length, was a heavy breathing. The tracker leant gently to one side to let me pass, and I crept cautiously forward. I must confess that I was in a mortal funk. I felt sure that a frightful charge was imminent. The breathing could not be more than eight yards or ten yards distant, and yet nothing was visible. When I had covered, I suppose, five yards or so there was a terrific snort and a rushing kind of crash. I had my rifle up covering the noise, ready in an instant to loose off. Nothing appeared because the buffalo was in as great a state of terror as I was, and was off. This fact gave me great confidence, as did also the eagerness with which my companions took up the trail. We tracked and tracked that wretched buffalo until he must have been in a frightful state of nerves. We came to within hearing distance of him frequently, but never saw him. My confidence grew by leaps and bounds, and I tried rushing at him as soon as we knew he was close. This almost succeeded as I saw the reeds still in motion where they had closed after his passage.

On the way home I stopped with a spear point almost touching my shirt front. The cheery fellows with me had planted their spears in the buffalo runs pointing in the direction from which they thought the buffalo might come—and extraordinarily difficult they were to see, presented, as they were, point on.

My experience of buffalo is that they are worthy game in thick stuff, but ludicrously easy things to kill in open country. Any form of expanding bullet should not be used, although for a broadside shot any kind of bullet is good enough. But if one carries mixed bullets one is certain sooner or later to find oneself loaded with just the wrong type of bullet, and, perhaps, with no time to change. I have always found the solid very deadly for all kinds of game. An end-on shot suits this type of bullet to perfection, as the vitals are certain to be raked if the holding is as it should be. Blind terror-stricken rushes by buffalo are not uncommonly straight towards the gun, but the brutes are easily dropped with a well planted shot. I believe that buffalo can be very nasty when in thick stuff with a flesh wound, but there is no earthly reason with modern firearms why one should miss such a target as is presented by a buffalo’s vitals. Always know where you are sending your bullet, I have found to be an excellent maxim.

XIV

AFRICAN LIONS

African lions may be placed in two categories—those which kill their game, and those which live largely on carrion, as hyenas do. Among the former, carrion-eaters will sometimes be found, but this foul feeding is generally due to old age or broken teeth, and it is among these that the habit of man-eating takes place. While in robust health and full possession of their power these lions will never touch dead meat, preferring to kill zebra, haartebeeste, wildebeeste, or even buffalo or giraffe; whereas the pig-eaters—as the lions of the second category are called—prey upon much smaller stuff, such as warthog, reedbuck, duiker, etc., failing which they will eat anything dead they may find. There are, therefore, lions and pig-eating lions.

Lions are much finer, bolder and more courageous than the pig-eaters. At night they will attack cattle inside strong zerebas in spite of fires, shouts and shots. When they take to man-eating they do it thoroughly, as, for instance, the two or three old lions which terrorised the coolie camps at Tsavo during the construction of the Uganda Railway. These accounted for some scores of victims in spite of colossal thorn zerebas, fires and armed guards. Their doings are recounted in the “Man Eaters of Tsavo,” and I will only add to that able account the doings of an old Sikh ex-soldier and his son. It was when the Government had offered a large reward for every lion killed within a mile on either side of the railway. Fired with the prospect of immediate wealth, this old man obtained a Rigby-Mauser ·275, and he and his son took to hunting lions. There were then in East Africa troops of lions sometimes over twenty strong. Knowing from the permanent-way gangs of coolies the likeliest spots, the hunters began their operations. These consisted of building shelters from which to fire by night, and they were generally situated close to reed beds known to be used by lions. At first the shelters were quite elaborate affairs affording considerable protection. Familiarity taught them that no protection was necessary, and latterly the cache was merely a ring of boulders over which one could fire from the prone position. The old man could imitate a goat or a cow to perfection, but whether it was desire on the part of the lions to eat goat or cow, or merely curiosity to find out what the strange noise was, must remain a mystery. Certain it is, though, that the Sikhs’ cache was a sure draw. The young fellow shot straight and true, and lion after lion succumbed. In nine months these two men claimed the reward on some ninety skins. On about forty-five the reward was actually paid, there being some doubt as to whether the remainder were killed within the mile limit.