Part 13

He was right about their numbers, for a few days after leaving his village we came upon the trail of a roaming herd. The well-beaten part of this trail was literally several hundreds of yards wide. I am afraid to estimate how many animals must have been in that herd.

Although it was several days old I wanted to follow it. I took it to be a migration of sorts. But the natives said no, there was no need to. There were plenty more. And, sure enough, they were right. We arrived at a small village on the banks of the Gelo.

Looking up our map we found that the Gelo River from Lake Tata down-stream was marked as unknown. Accordingly, we made enquiries among the natives about the country down-stream, and were told that there were no natives for many days, that the whole country was under water at this season and that no one would go.

This was good enough for us. We opened negotiations with the chiefs for some dug-out canoes, which we obtained for various sundries. They were poor carriers and very crank, so I lashed them together in rafts of three.

It was now necessary to deal with our followers. All the Abyssinians would have to return as they were daily becoming more fever-stricken. With them would go the mules. The guide rightly considered he had done his job. There remained four of my old Swahili followers from British East Africa, who had been shipped, through Thos. Cook and Son, from Mombassa to Djibuti, and four Yemen Arabs we had picked up on our way through. The Swahilis were old hands, had been everywhere with me for about ten years, and cared not a rap where we went. The Arabs were new, but splendid fellows. They hated the thought of recrossing Abyssinia by themselves and were, therefore, obliged to go on with us.

On loading up the flotilla it was found impossible to carry all our stores. We made a huge bonfire of the surplus, and I well remember how well the ham and bacon burned. We regretted burning all these good things, but, as a matter of fact, we were better without them. Laying in a stock of native grain we pushed off into the current and swung down-stream.

It was the rainy season and the discomforts we suffered were sometimes acute. Almost immediately on quitting the chief’s village we entered a region where hard ground rose only a few inches above water level. Great areas were entirely covered by water, only the tops of the 12-foot grass showing above it. Whenever we turned one of the many bends of the river, and these were hard banks, there would be a continuous line of splashes, which advanced with us as the crocodiles plunged in. The waters teemed with fish, especially the lung-fish, which continued rising night and day to breathe, as we supposed.

In this swamp country every night was a time of horror, and camping a perfect nightmare. Well before the sun was down the mosquitoes appeared in myriads. Luckily our boys had each been provided with a mosquito net. These nets I had procured with a watertight canvas roof so that they also acted as small tents. They could be slung between sticks or paddles stuck in the ground. Without these nets no man could long survive the quite serious loss of blood and sleep; for, to add to our troubles, firewood was non-existent. In the hot, sweltering nights, when it was not raining, the moon would appear almost obliterated by the clouds of mosquitoes hanging to the net, while the massed hum seemed to be continuous. And yet there was no fever among us, presumably because of the lack of infection sources. Several times no dry spot could be found and we stuck it out as best we could on the canoes.

Of game we saw nothing except elephant. No buck or buffalo nor even hippo in that desolate region. How numerous elephant were I cannot say, as we never hunted them unless we actually saw them from the canoes. Low on the water as we were and with high grass everywhere, it was necessary for the animals to be within a few yards of the bank in order to come within our view. Hunting thus we killed some 30 bulls as we drifted along. Allowing that we killed half we saw, that would mean that 60 bull elephant crossed our narrow path at the moment we were there or thereabouts. If the region were only a few miles deep on either bank and were frequented on a similar scale, it would indicate an enormous number of elephant. We took little heed of cows, but of these quite a hundred came within our view.

All our boys being Mohammedans, we two whites were the only eaters of elephant meat. Luckily for the others, fish were easily caught.

At one place where we killed elephant we found a raised piece of ground perhaps three or four feet above the water. It even had three trees on it. We were simply delighted to reach shore again, and as we had killed six good bulls that day the camp was merry—at any rate, the white portion of it. As we were obliged to wait here three or four days for the elephant to rot before drawing the tusks, we pitched our tents and made everything comfortable. In the night a terrific rain storm blew up, and when it was at its height red ants invaded us. My companion was got first, and had to vacate his bed and tent. I could hear him cursing between the thunder claps. Presently he came into my tent, quite naked, as they had got into his pyjamas. I told him to lay a trail of paraffin all round the tent, while I proceeded to tuck my net well in all round me. As he was laying the trail the rising water came rushing in, bearing with it thousands of desperate ants. They swarmed up everything they touched. I lay, as I thought, secure, my companion fled, slapping and brushing his naked legs and cursing dreadfully.

For some time the enemy failed to penetrate my fine-mesh net, but when they did get me they all got me at once. Without two thoughts I was out in the pouring rain and throwing off my pyjamas. After brushing off the fiery hot devils I found they were mounting my legs just as fast. My companion yelled through the storm to get up on an up-turned bucket. I found one at last and mounted. And thus we rode it out.

There was bad “medicine” in that camp, for next day my companion got gassed when he drew a tusk, and was violently sick; and while carrying the tusk back to camp stepped on a huge fish, while wading through mud and water, which threw him headlong into it.

We were now obliged to cast gear in order to carry ivory. Spare axes, tools and camp gear went first, and finally provisions and tents. At last we could take nothing more aboard and float. We left fine ivory standing on the banks. We had formed the idea of returning, properly equipped, for this inland navigation, and headed down-stream with about two inches freeboard. Our sluggish Gelo bore us slowly into the sluggish Pibor which pushed us gently into the livelier Sobat. On our way down this river to the Nile we were so short of food and the usual wherewithal to buy it that we were obliged to part with one of our tusks for native grain, fowls, and a couple of sheep. We camped frequently by the villages of the Nuers, and were astonished to learn on our arrival at the Nile that we were then at war with this tribe.

I am inclined to think that we were rather lucky to have come through the sudd region of the Gelo so easily. At one place the open channel divided equally into two, and we debated which one we should follow. We tossed, and the paddle decided on the right-hand channel. We followed it, but never saw where the other channel rejoined.

After reaching the more open waters of the Sobat the lightest breeze raised sufficient lop on the water to come aboard with our dangerously low freeboard. As it was, we were caught about mid-stream once, and before we could reach the bank the whole flotilla settled down. Luckily, we were only a few yards from shore and in about ten feet of water. Our boys were magnificent, and got everything up while we plugged shots into the water to keep off crocs. Had we foundered further out, the whole of our ivory and rifles, etc., would have been lost.

The hunting of elephant in this swamp region was of the severest description. That is the reason of their congregating there in such numbers, I think. The ground was too rotten for ponies or mules, even should they survive the myriads of flies and mosquitoes. The grass was mostly the 12-foot stuff with razor-like edges and countless, almost invisible spines, which stick into exposed limbs. Locomotion for humans was only possible when following elephant tracks. When within even a few paces of the animals it was generally impossible to see them. I used to mount on a boy’s shoulder and fire from there, but the stance was so wobbly and the view so obstructed by grass tops as to make it most unsatisfactory. Having a large telescope mounted on a stout tripod I fitted a tiny board to fix on the tripod top, and found it most satisfactory; although the jump from my rifle, slight as it was, knocked me off once or twice.

On this safari the health of everyone was excellent, considering the hard work and poor food. We whites were troubled somewhat with indigestion, caused I think by our native-grain flour having got wet, and fermented a bit. There was practically no fever, and my tough old Swahilis came through without turning a hair. The Arabs, however, lost condition.

VIII

THE LADO ENCLAVE

At the time of which I write the Enclave de Lado comprised the country bordering the western bank of the Upper Nile from Lado on the north to Mahazi in the south. It was leased to Leopold, King of the Belgians, for the duration of his life and for six months after his death. This extension of the lease was popularly supposed to be for the purpose of enabling the occupiers to withdraw and remove their gear.

While the King was still alive and the Enclave occupied by the Congo authorities, I stepped ashore one day at Lado, the chief administrative post in the northern part. Luckily for me, the Chef de Zone was there, and I immediately announced my business, the hunting of elephant. The Chef was himself a great shikari, and told me he held the record for the (then) Congo Free State, with a bag of forty-seven, I think it was. He was most kind and keenly interested in my project, and promised to help in every way he could.

As regards permission to hunt, he told me that if I merely wished to shoot one or two elephants, he could easily arrange that on the spot, but that if I wanted to hunt elephant extensively, I should require a permit from the Governor, who lived at Boma, at the mouth of the Congo. The price of this permit was £20, and it was good for five months in one year. It was quite unlimited and, of course, was a gift to anyone who knew the game. The Belgians, however, seemed to think that the demanding of 500 frs. for a permit to hunt such dangerous animals was in the nature of pure extortion; they regarded as mad anyone who paid such a sum for such a doubtful privilege.

I was, naturally, very eager to secure such a permit, especially when the Chef told me of the uncountable herds of elephants he had seen in the interior. By calculation it was found that the permit, if granted, would arrive at Lado in good time for the opening of the season, three months hence. I deposited twenty golden sovereigns with the Treasury, copied out a flowery supplication to the Governor for a permit, which my friend the Chef drafted for me, and there was nothing more to do but wait.

My visit to Lado was my first experience of Belgian domestic arrangements. The Chef de Zone lived entirely apart from the other officers, but with this exception they all messed together. The Chef himself was most exclusive; he gave me to understand, in fact, he regarded his subordinate whites as “scum.” He gave me many cryptic warnings to have no dealings with them, all of which were rather lost on me then, as I had never hitherto come in contact with white men just like that. When, therefore, I was invited to dine at the mess I accepted, little knowing what I was in for.

The mess-room was a large room, or rather a large thatched roof standing on many pillars of sun-dried brick. In place of walls nothing more substantial than mosquito netting interposed itself between the diners and the gaze of the native multitude, comprising the station garrison, and so on. This system of architecture suits the climate admirably, its sole drawback being its publicity. For when the inmates of such a structure have the playful dinner habits of our forefathers, without their heads, and try to drink each other under the table, and when, moreover, the casualties are removed by native servants from that ignominious position one after the other, speechless, prostrate and puking, naturally the whole affair becomes a kind of “movie” show, with sounds added, for the native population. When, for instance, the Chef de Post, whose image is intimately connected in most of the spectators’ minds with floggings, ambitiously tries to mount the table, fails and falls flat, the “thunders of applause” of our newspapers best describe the reception of his downfall by the audience.

At the dinner in question we started well. One member of the mess contributed five dozen of bottled beer. Another a case of whisky. A demi-john or two of the rough ration table wine rendered somewhat alcoholic by the vagaries of wine in the Tropics was also available; but the effort of the evening was when a sporting Count produced a bottle of Curaçao. We sat down.

Directly in front of me, in the usual position, I found some plates, a knife, fork and spoon. But on three sides I was surrounded by eggs. There were, I think, three dozen of them. On looking round I observed that each diner was similarly provided. Then soup arrived, very strong, good and liberally flavoured with garlic. It was made from buffalo killed by the Post’s native hunters. Meanwhile I noticed my neighbours handing out their eggs to the boys and giving instructions regarding them. I was at a loss. Hitherto I had regarded my eggs as being boiled and ready to eat, all the time mildly wondering how I was to eat so many. Then I caught the word omelette pass my neighbour’s lips as he handed a dozen or two to the boy. I tumbled to it. They were raw and you simply handed them out as you fancied, to be turned into fried, poached, boiled eggs or omelettes. What a capital idea! I set aside a dozen for an omelette, a half dozen to be fried, and a half dozen to be poached. I thought that if I got through that lot I should have enough.