Very interesting book.

I will add bits as I go along.

A friend is having a knee surgery and I brought my iPad to read while waiting for him.

Sitting in the hospital coffee shop, watching what goes on here and reading this book is quite fascinating!


By Reginald Dave Cooper.

The next three days we spent in arranging the various boxes and loads to be borne by our carriers to the Congo. This was no joke, each boy's load must weigh not more than sixty-five pounds. It is reckoned that a boy carrying this amount should travel fifteen miles a day. Tents, folding chairs, washstands, baths, kit-bags, boxes, beads, hoes, americani—a sort of cheese-cloth-all had to be packed and weighed. Numbering each box, by the way, saves an enormous amount of trouble, and a good deal of bad language.

If, when packing, you make a list of the contents and put a number or mark on the load, you need only turn up your store sheets when you require, say, a tin of pea flour, to find the number of the case containing what you require. In the daytime we left the headman, Mpala, together with the cook or "pishi," to watch the tents during our absence from camp. Twenty-eight porters had gone ahead to Hoima with the heavier loads under the charge of Salem Bega, a deputy headman.

In my opinion a great many people lose half the pleasure of a hunting trip in Central Africa by having the game brought to their tent doors, as one may say, in return for a fixed fee. There is also a considerable amount of pleasure to be derived from getting together you own equipment, which is missed if you put yourself entirely in the hands of a company who deal with you in a commercial spirit. One aristocratic "safari" even carried its own electric light plant!

I certainly advocate obtaining one's carriers and personal boys through the agency of a trading company, who always have on hand a list of boys suitable for and experienced in work connected with a safari. The uninitiated sportsman should pay great attention to this. Elsewhere I have given an instance showing how important it is to have reliable gunbearers. Sulky malingering carriers spoil a trip.

One boy had an old dress coat on, but alas! it had seen its days, and seemed on the point of dropping to pieces; there were great holes in the shoulders, and one of the tails hung by a thread. During the whole trip, I do not remember seeing the boy with the coat off his back. Everywhere, day or night, rain or sunshine, wading neck-high through flooded rivers, the garment was always in evidence. Like most natives all over Africa, he was always smiling or laughing, nothing worried him.

Life for this semi-savage boy was one laugh from morn to night. The carriers of Central Africa take all their worldly possessions with them when on safari; sometimes it is only a blanket, a native pipe, a piece of tobacco wrapped up in a leaf, and a sleeping mat of grass. Add to these a stout stick and you have a picture of a boy on safari.

With his sixty-pound load on his head he will travel up hill and down dale, laughing and singing, shouting the customary greeting to passers-by. Sharpedged pebbles have no terrors for his bare feet; he ascends winding paths, makes steep, treacherous descents, brushing his way through dense thorn bushes, scratched and bleeding from head to foot. His body is bathed in perspiration, yes, he smells at times! Give him ten rupees a month and play the game with him.

If you make a promise to a native, native, keep it to the letter. Some people are apt to lose control of themselves where native women are concerned; remember, nothing tends to lessen the prestige of the white man more than immorality. In the eyes of the uncivilized native this is a crime. Among several tribes of the Congo, cannibals and others, this offence is punishable by death. Having travelled all over South Africa, I make bold to say that had the white man left the native woman unmolested we should not have heard so much as we do to-day about white women being raped by Kaffirs.

This may furnish food for reflection to many whom I have met between Cape Town and Cairo, who have in this manner assisted to lessen the prestige of the white races in Africa. Has civilization brought to the people of Africa such enormous benefits as many would have us believe? There are still vast tracts of the country, containing many thousands of people, to whom civilization is as yet unknown. They are supremely happy in their present state, far better off than thousands at home in the old country. They have plenty to live on, nothing to worry about.

Has it ever struck you that there is an enormous amount of work to be done at home in the poorer parts of our large cities? Don't you think that the many charitable institutions at home urgently in need of funds in order to help the destitute and starving, the waifs and strays, would put to far better use the huge sums sent out to Africa for the purpose of educating and "converting" the natives? No one can deny that educating the native has, after all, been prompted by purely mercenary motives. Thousands have lost their lives working for individuals, mining companies, and governments in their mad rush for wealth.

The native is the willing and often the ill-used tool of the white man. Kicked and cuffed by bullying white men, his spirit is speedily broken, and at length he falls in the scramble for gain. And this is civilization! For the favoured few it is easy. For the great masses it is a struggle in which little quarter is given.

Exactly on the tenth day after leaving Kampala we entered Hoima. Salem Bega and our twenty eight carriers were waiting for us. We pitched our tents opposite the British Trading Company's store near the local branch manager's house. Finding Messrs. Buckley and Pearson two other hunters in camp here made our stop in this small town very enjoyable. We had a great time in camp with the gramophone. I can see us all now as we used to sit listening to the strains of Just before the battle mother and other familiar airs.

The young King of Unyoro was greatly in evidence at Hoima. He was then learning to ride a bicycle. Supported by about half a dozen stalwart natives he sat on the machine and was followed by a further mob of faithful adherents two hundred or so strong all running to keep up with him. Once during our visit he came through the town heralded by the Court jester who always marches in advance of the royal party. This fool of the house is a tall cadaverous looking individual arrayed in wild cat skins and other hides to say nothing of a wealth of bangles and trinkets liberally arranged over his body and arms.

Suspended by cord from the neck he carries a native drum on which he performs in the most frantic manner. Every now and then he goes through a weird dance with body swaying and bending as he shuffles his bare feet on the ground making an unearthly din with drum and mouth. To add to the extraordinary appearance of this wild creature he wears on his head an old weatherworn conical grass hat.

The King would frequently ride in a ricksha arrayed in a khanza and fez cap. Lieutenant Carew in charge of the Askaris soldiers with another officer whose name I regret I have forgotten invited us up to their quarters but as we had to take over extra stores and to repack several of the loads we were unfortunately unable to get away far from the camp. Carew and myself had something in common for we discovered that he knew several little villages at home that I knew. At one time he had held a commission in the same town wherein I had spent the early days of my youth. Both these young officers were exceedingly agreeable and were always heartily welcomed at the camp of any safari passing through Hoima.

Several of our carriers who showed symptoms of sleeping sickness were prohibited from proceeding into the Congo with us. The Government doctor showed us how to detect the first indications of this dreadful disease. By taking a firm hold with the thumb and first finger on the glands in the neck above the shoulders one can feel the hard lumps which form under the sinews of the neck in the first stages. Let me state here one of the multifarious grievances of the hunter or trader when setting out for the Congo.

We had got all our porters together down at Kampala and paid ten rupees advance on each boy as demanded by Government there. We reach Hoima and some of those boys are discovered to be suffering from sleeping sickness those boys are allowed to travel to Butiaba on Lake Albert but must then return to their homes. For our ten rupees we got a bare half month's work. The collector was so uncertain that we should ever obtain a refund of the six odd rupees lost on each carrier and the settlement of any claim would take so long that we were advised to hand the men over to the British Trading Company and let them utilize them for taking loads to Kampala. I am surprised that the Uganda Government does not facilitate matters for those who bring money and spend it in their colony. The laws regarding the engagement of carriers are absurd. Many hunters and traders travel vid German and other territories whose Governments encourage new comers rather than be thwarted and heckled in Uganda.

All the ridiculous formalities in this colony with regard to engaging carriers are typical of an administration suffering from swollen head. Safaris can reach the Congo by other routes than through Uganda where they know they will be dealt with patronizingly by a crowd of self opinionated young officials who are inclined to treat the visitor in a rather off hand fashion. Their unpleasant demeanour is no doubt due to jealousy for it must be rather galling to these young people to see hunters returning from the Congo with a caravan laden with valuable trophies after a few months trip.

East Africa was for some time the playground of the officials stationed there and when the time came for land settlement those who took up land were regarded by the officials almost as usurpers of what they had come to consider as their prescriptive rights. For a long time the officials stood apart from those who were coming in to open the country and thereby to assist in relieving the British taxpayer of another burden but nowadays their attitude is not quite so unfriendly.

A native can say or do several things when near a Boma you must not touch him and he knows it. He is cheeky and lazy but when away from civilized parts he becomes a cringing submissive character. Dark stories of the Congo had evidently reached the ears of the boys from out of work lazy native scoundrels in the town many of whom are past masters in the art of telling lies.

Invariably they are those with a thin veneer of civilization about them. To the man with a safari passing through Hoima I say get your business done with all speed and clear out. Before you have been there many hours the local native liars are busily engaged in sowing the seed of discontent among your boys telling them all sorts of tales of how the white men shoot their boys as soon as they reach the Congo, of terrible floggings and so forth.

Naturally your carrier who has probably never been away from his hut and village before is soon frightened by these lying statements. He may be a boy of fifteen, or perhaps a man of thirty, but these raw people are easily scared, and as they listen to such tales rolling from the tongues of the local scandalmongers, they quiver and regard the speaker with open mouths. Horrified, the simple ones immediately go to the Boma to announce that they are really members of one of the tribes prohibited from entering the Congo, or to complain that they have been badly treated on the march from Kampala, the Bwana has flogged them, and so on, doing all this at the bidding of the "converts." Here at Hoima we were besieged by boys wanting soft jobs on the safari. One came up arrayed in a straw hat of obsolete pattern, an old Askari tunic, a piece of calico fashioned like a kilt, ammunition boots-size ten —but no socks, a grizzly-faced truculent-looking creature. I read through his record card, and among other remarks, I read something like this: "Native Henry, has been in my employ for the last four months as gunbearer.

He is absolutely hopeless." Further down: "Bearer, Native Henry, has been far from satisfactory. Willing, but alas! not honest. Chase him off." Several boys' references finished up with "useless, his appetite is appalling, spoilt all our food, either a has been or never will be, no hope for Tin Box. He gave us endless trouble." Another came forward and produced his "card" from the customary piece of dirty rag. "What work do you want?" I asked. To which he replied: "Cook, Bwana." "Have you done any cooking before?” “Yes, Bwana." I opened the card, when lo! I beheld that "he was not a strong carrier." On seeing this I asked him his name, to which he replied, "Khasi" (Khasi is Swahili for "work"). The name given in the book was "Kadale." I threw the book at him and sent him flying.

He had stolen that book from another boy, and with it was canvassing for work and posing as a cook. Of course he was entirely ignorant of its contents. We picked up what we thought were bargains, in the shape of two natives named Monica and Wanaka, to replace two incompetent tent boys. For laughter raising propensities Monica and Wanaka were hard to beat. They fairly "topped the bill," to use a theatrical term, among the talent of our safari, and believe me, we had some stars.

Dog-faced apes and harnessed antelope are to be found around Hoima. The latter, though fairly plentiful, is seldom seen, for it comes out only at night and barks much like a dog. Its colour is dark chestnut, with flanks striped white, and white spots on the shoulders.

Bennett, one of the elephant hunters, formerly engineer of the Uganda Marine at Butiaba, was camped close to us and gave me a full account of his adventure in the Mullah country, in a district under the chief Njoro. The Mullah is in the neighbourhood of the mountains which form the boundary between Belgian and Soudanese territory, at the south-western extremity of the Lado Enclave. As Bennett was sitting in his camp one afternoon, the local natives brought food and laid it at his feet. He stooped down to inspect some matama in a gourd, when he was suddenly seized by two fellows from behind. In a wink he was bound from head to foot, and surrounded by an armed mob of savages.

His cook was dragged away and seen no more. Bennett was kept in a grass hut until sundown, when he was taken before a native court for trial. As he did not know the language he was entirely ignorant of the sentence passed on him. That night he was again imprisoned in the hut. Next morning he and his boys were blindfolded and led over rough paths for miles, hatless and practically devoid of clothing. Eventually the bandages were taken from their eyes, and they were free to go. Some few days later they reached Mahagi. Since that period I believe Njoro's people have learnt better. On the third morning of our stay here the Semitita arrived with Mr. Britlebank, who had brought over one hundred tusks of ivory down from the Congo. We were told we would probably leave Butiaba the next morning at nine.

There was great excitement among the boys at this news, they were all eager to get ahead. Accordingly on Tuesday at daybreak we were all ready for the next stage of the trip. The carriers and mules were put into the larger sailing boat Kisingiri, together with most of the loads. P and I with the cooks, personal boys, guns and ammunition, went aboard the smaller craft Good Intent, a whale boat about thirty feet long, fitted with a sail. On the top of the awning, the crew had spread out a selection of fish cut open to dry in the sun. It had already been there for some days, and smelt The cooks were busy getting the lunch ready. Monica sat upright staring straight ahead. He was clad in a fez cap, an old Harris tweed waistcoat, and a pair of Hindoo shaped pants of coarse calico.

Every now and then he would attempt to converse with Wanaka, who was listening with open mouth to Sabawa's elephant yarns. The baharia," or crew, had been sleeping for two hours, with the exception of the crooning individual at the tiller, who was gazing dreamily across the vast expanse of water all round us. The Kisingiri, with her laughing chattering cargo, was about a mile behind, the oars flashing in the sunlight as she came lazily on in our wake. A wild chant coming from her reached our ears over the glassy surface of the lake. Small birds manœuvred far above us against the clear blue sky. Some miles away to our left thin trails of smoke curled up, showing where a tiny village lay nestled on the hills. Several canoes were hugging the shore.

quote:

Originally posted by Saeed:
We had a great time in camp with the gramophone. I can see us all now as we used to sit listening to the strains of Just before the battle mother and other familiar airs.

I guess the music for a rocking good time was a little different in those days!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EBL-zTQeeY

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/...e_the_Battle,_Mother

I like the “older” hunting books a lot and always take two or three to read when flying to and while hunting. Can’t sleep well on airplanes so reading helps.

THE Country here being in places dense with matamma fields and tall grass that reached far above our heads, and our path being so narrow that we had to march in single file, I was expecting momentarily to see a shower of arrows or a thousand gleaming spears or lances, knives, and other weapons raised against us, but we were allowed to pass unmolested.

Once over the crest of the hill above the village the track led through a short grass and bush country studded with small groups of huts, the inhabitants of which were in a great state of excitement at our approach. Below us we could see groups of dark creatures standing by their huts gazing intently at us as we pushed along. Again the drums beat forth the signal of alarm, shrill whistles and wailing cries broke into the calm morning air, and were borne far away to the north-west by the faint breeze. Looking back up the winding path that we had left behind, we saw a mass of humanity clearly outlined against the azure blue sky, gazing down at us from their lofty position with the sun glinting and flashing on the blades of their spears, and as we passed down into the valley, howls of execration were showered on us.

It was for all the world as though we had upset a bees' nest. Looking up at the steep hills in front of us we could see another crowd of armed savages, whose numbers alone would have rendered it easy for them to surge down on us from all sides and cut us up, but the expected attack did not follow. Far on the hills where the trees fell back and the grass waved, the winding path to the summit showed clearly as it wound in and about the broken slope, whose surface was strewn with gigantic boulders of ironstone, some of which must have weighed thousands of tons. At the foot of the next dip we were at the bottom of the valley, and threading our way through densely packed trees and creepers. From the ground underfoot came the pungent odour of decayed vegetation that the sun never reached.

A little farther on the sound of rushing waters reached our ears as our boys worked with the axes among the long creepers and massive boughs that hindered our progress. The ring of the axes striking the heavier limbs that had to be cut away echoed far around us. Occasionally a snake would wriggle or glide from under the dead leaves close to our feet and disappear in the semi-darkness of the place to nestle beneath some other bush or deep carpet of leaves, and as we moved slowly forward millions of insects and creeping things droned and crawled beneath our feet. At length we reached the water's edge and saw that the Insa was a tough proposition," and impossible to pass at the point at which we had emerged.

We stood listening to the hollow echoes of unfamiliar sounds and the cries of alarm and trumpet blasts of the natives above who lined the summit of the hills ahead. These were hidden from view by the dense vegetation and the branches of enormous trees which overhung the river from either bank. Many of the plants and trees were a glory of coloured blossoms, and around the tree-trunks there grew moss and fairy-like ferns in a glorious profusion, looking down on the foaming, tumbling waters which kissed the trailing creepers and tendrils as they hung from the great limbs that stretched out overhead. We had to clear a path through the network of vines, bush, boughs, and other virgin growth by the river side and work up stream in search of a suitable spot at which to cross. Eventually we hit on a likely place where the river was scarcely more than twenty-five yards in width, and the rushing waters reached just up to the armpits of an average man, but entirely covered some of our smaller carriers.

The bed of the river was strewn with unseen boulders over which many of the boys stumbled, and the difficulty of the crossing was increased by the force of the current, which was running so strongly as almost to sweep one off one's feet. A number of the more powerful boys took up positions across the river holding sticks from one to another to guide and steady the carriers as the loads were carefully passed over.

All the time we were aware of the danger of attack from either bank by the seemingly hostile natives, who could have been on top of us before we were aware of their advance, and from behind me there came an ominous crackling of twigs that told of the proximity of a horde of savages irritated at what they held to be our unwarranted intrusion on their domain. We owed our immunity from attack to the fact that these people stood in awe of our rifles, looking on them as fateful "sticks of fire" with which elephants are brought to the ground. Fortunately for us they did not know the limitations of our weapons.

I've hunted close to that border and would love to hunt there.

Just finished this book. Very interesting and a fun read. A bit exciting as it ended.
Hard to find. I found a cheap reprint done in India (very poor quality) but good enough to read.

Thanks for the suggestion.

quote:

Originally posted by dogcat:
Just finished this book. Very interesting and a fun read. A bit exciting as it ended.
Hard to find. I found a cheap reprint done in India (very poor quality) but good enough to read.

Thanks for the suggestion.

I have a very large library of old hunting books.

Originals I bought over the years from auctions.

I will post parts from others too.

I have a decent hunting library.

I also have a long list of books to acquire and this is one of them.


I was recently in a used book store and walked out with Selous’ “A hu tees Wanderingd in Africa” and “Hunters Tracks” JA Hunter for a total of $20.

Only a couple of hundred books to go. Lol.


Saeed thanks for posting this.

Love all them old books
What a stories
Thanks Saeed to turn us on some of these books

Saaed, would appreciate it if you could please post names of a few of the old books!
Thanks,
Arjun

I read and have read most of the old books. They always made me long for days of past. In the first score of my adult life it was easy to at least obtain a bit of it. Today one just realizes it really is all gone.