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BUBA GIDA, THE LAST AFRICAN POTENTATE
Now situated in the French sphere of influence can still be found a remarkable relic of the old slave-dealing days. The country goes by the name of its despotic ruler, Buba Rei on maps, Buba Gida to everyone cognisant of it. The principal town is also so called. And the whole organisation is an example of what can be done by courage, energy, force of character and extreme cunning allied to ferocity and cruelty; for the redoubtable Buba Gida, the owner—body and soul—of tens of thousands of slaves, is no scion of a kingly race. Mothered by a slave of the Lakka tribe and fathered by a Scrub Fulani of sorts, everything he has and is he owes entirely to his own ability.
In early life he left his humble home and started out into the wild no man’s land with some companions of a like spirit. Slaves at all costs were what Buba Gida and company were out for. Perhaps it was mere chance that led them towards the Lakka country, whence Buba Gida’s mother had been raided, or perhaps it was information from her. However that may be, in close proximity to the Lakka country they found what they were looking for—a fine country, well watered and obviously good for cattle. Pagan Lakkas and other bush tribes were in plenty within raiding distance. Their first raid set them up in labour. Their tiny camp became a village. More raids were planned and carried out with invariable success. The village became a town.
THE SILENT TOWN: VULTURES THE ONLY SCAVENGERS.
Buba now ruled supreme. By pursuing the system of “putting away” all those who obstructed him, judiciously mixed with generous treatment in the matter of women—to acquire which the African will do anything—he obtained such a power over his people that none, not even the white man, has been able to overthrow it.
I will now try to describe how my companion and I fared when the pursuit of elephants took us into Buba Gida’s country. To reach this country we traversed some very rich cattle districts inhabited by Fulani, a tribe akin to the Somals. At Buba Gida’s boundary we were met by some forty or fifty of his smaller fry, for it must be understood that we were simple elephant hunters and not “big” white men. Everything about us was known to Buba Gida days before our arrival at his boundary by his wonderful system of intelligence. We remembered noticing casual horsemen about our caravan; they were Buba Gida’s intelligence. From the boundary to the king’s town was six days’ march, and the headman of every village we slept at was under orders to escort us to Buba Rei. As each headman in turn was escorted by five or six men, all being mounted, it will be seen that we formed quite a little army by the time we got to the capital. Had we been “big” white men, doubtless we should have been several hundred strong by that time. At the end of the sixth day we were camped within sight of the mysterious city. And mysterious it certainly is, for, surrounded as it is by well-known, if somewhat distant countries, and within 120 miles of a large Government post, nothing is known of this curious mediæval city or its despotic tyrant, Buba Gida; and yet every white man wishes to know more about it. Countless thousands of questions must have been asked about Buba Gida. He even visits the Government station Garua; and sufficiently foolish to us he appears when he does so, for he goes with thousands of followers, women and men. Special beds and tents are carried with all kinds of paraphernalia; in fact, anything for show. He even must buy the whole contents of the stores he honours with a visit, much of them quite useless to him.
It was not clear to us why we had to camp so near the city, so we asked why we did not proceed. The answer was that the king had ordered us to sleep at that spot. There are few remaining places in Africa where a white man’s actions are governed by a black man’s wishes. Abyssinia under Menelik was one. Liberia and Buba Rei are still among them.
On the following morning we all sallied forth in our very best paint. As all the riding horses are stallions and some of them alarmingly vicious, and all of them ready at any time to bite, kick, strike, rear and prance, and, indeed, taught to do so, it is easy to imagine the scene as we drew near the capital. Right in the thick of it, in the middle of the prancing mêlée, on a very high rakish-looking stallion over which he appeared to have no control, was a gentleman with a very white and anxious face. He seemed to be somewhat insecurely seated on a flat saddle and appeared to be trying to do something to his horse by means of a snaffle. I know all this because I was he. My companion looked much more at ease, but I must confess I felt thoroughly alarmed lest I should fall off and disgrace the whole show. This will be better understood when I explain that all the riders except ourselves were in saddles with great high horns in front and high canties behind. Most of them clung openly to the horns; and besides this, their mounts were bitted Arab fashion, with great spades and a ring round the lower jaw, so that they really had control over their beasts.
CHIEFS IN ARMOUR WITH ARROW-PROOF QUILTS.
Luckily, I did not fall off, and presently we halted about a mile from one of the great gates in the wall which surrounds the town. We were told we should have to wait here until the king gave the order to enter. After waiting about two hours—done chiefly to impress the people with the greatness of the king, to see whom even the white men had to wait—a mob of mounted men about two hundred strong was seen to come forth from the city gate and to approach. We now hastily mounted, and I remember having more trouble with my infernal beast. The two opposing bodies of horsemen now began to approach one another until there remained perhaps forty yards separating us. Some very impressive speeches were made. Luckily for us, the king had lent us a speech-maker, and he held up our end in a very creditable manner, judging by the amount of talking he did. I thought it would never end, my horse becoming more and more restive. Every time he squealed and bit one of the neighbouring horses the whole mob began playing up. I was awfully afraid he might take charge and go barging in among the knights, for such they were. Genuine knights—if not in armour, at any rate all clothed in arrow-proof quilted cloth—horses and all. On their heads the knights had bright native iron caskets. They carried long bamboo spears with iron heads. At their sides were Arab swords. Beneath the bright little caskets were faces of such revolting ugliness and ferocity as to be almost ludicrous. We had the speeches of the opposition translated to us, and the gist of them was to the effect that we were about to have the honour of entering the town of the greatest king on earth—a king who was, if not immortal, next door to it, and so on. Then we were requested to count the knights. Before we had time to count more than twenty or so we were told that they numbered 500. An obvious lie; 200 at the outside. Then we were told that each of these knights had under him 500 other knights, armed and mounted as he was. After that our attention was drawn to a foot rabble in leopard skins and large quivers full of arrows. I had failed to notice these before owing to anxiety about my steed’s capers. They looked a pretty nasty crowd. Never have I seen so many hideous men together.
After the speeches we proceeded slowly towards the gates, gallopers continuously going off to report progress to the king. The wall totally encloses the town, and the gates are wide enough to allow of six men riding abreast. The wall itself is perhaps 20 ft. high and made of sun-baked mud. The thickness at the gateway is about 50 ft., but this is chiefly to impress the visitor and to shelter the guard. The rest of the wall is no more than perhaps 6 ft. at the base.
The buildings in the town are simply the ordinary grass and mud-and-wattle huts of that part of Africa, any more pretentious style of architecture not being allowed. Even pretentious or costly clothing, ornaments or style of any sort are forbidden. Music is forbidden. The drinking of intoxicants within the town is punishable by death. Outside it is allowed. No child must cry, none may laugh loudly or sing or shout. Noises of any sort are forbidden in this dismal city. The filth is indescribable. The obvious healthiness of its dwellers may be due to the fact that Buba Gida has every one of them out of it hard at work in his immense plantations every day and all day long, and also perhaps to the fact that everyone is well nourished. Where all belongs to the king who but he can make a ring in corn! Who but he can raise the cost of living! The only approach to a grumble that we heard from his people was the wish that they might own their own children.
Near about the centre of the town a great high inner wall became visible. This, we were informed, surrounded the king and his palaces. Few townsmen had ever been inside, and the king seldom comes out. Under this wall our quarters were situated, two unpretentious grass huts. In front of our huts, besides our usual ration, there were mountains of prepared foods. The things for us two white men would have fed thirty. With the food came a taster. That is a man who, by tasting everything before you, thereby guarantees it free from poison. This is the usual thing in Africa. Generally the chief of the village does it. Everything was most comfortable, and we began to think highly of our chances of coming to some arrangement with the king about elephant hunting. We were left alone for about two hours.
When the time came for our audience we were led through streets partly round the wall, and it became evident that the inner wall encircled an enormous area. It was from 40 ft. to 50 ft. high, and enormously thick at the base and in very good repair. Arrived at the gate itself, we got some idea of the immense thickness of the walls, the opening in them forming a high and very long guard-room, with huge doors of black timber at each end. This guard-room was filled with men—soldiers I suppose they were.
AN ENORMOUS MAN, FULLY SEVEN FEET HIGH, ROSE FROM A PILE OF RAGS AND EXTENDED HIS RIGHT HAND, SWINGING A STRING OF HUGE AMBER BEADS IN THE OTHER.
WHENEVER THE KING SNEEZES, COUGHS OR SPITS THE ATTENDANT SLAVES BREAK INTO LOUD WAILING.
Arrived at the inner doors we were halted. Our guide entered alone. After some twenty minutes’ waiting—again done to impress, I suppose—a slave appeared at the door and beckoned us in. He talked in a whisper and was almost nude. We entered and the great doors were closed behind us. Now we were in a courtyard with more huge doors in front of us. Another wait, but shorter. Presently appears our guide. Up till now he had seemed to us to be rather an important fellow. He had been decently dressed, at all events. But now here he was as nude as the other slaves. Another of the rules of this strange court. Everyone, barring white men, but not excepting the king’s own sons, must approach the Presence almost nude, and on all fours. They must never look at the king’s face, but must keep their foreheads to the ground. And you can bet these rules are strictly observed. Even our man—who must be in and out continually—was several shades more ashen than when outside. Our interpreter then stripped himself, and a very trembly wretch he looked. At last all was ready for our entry to the Presence. We passed through the door into a large and spotlessly clean courtyard. Along one side ran what was evidently the reception house, a lofty building beautifully thatched, with a low verandah. Lolling on a pile of cushions on the floor of the verandah was a huge and very black negro. We walked quickly towards him, passing two nude slaves with their heads glued to the ground, while our interpreter and the functionary crawled on all fours behind us.
This at last was Buba Gida, and a very impressive creature he looked. As we drew near he got up. A fine specimen indeed, 7 ft. high if an inch, and wide in proportion. Soft, of course, but otherwise in fine condition. He extended a hand like a bath sponge for size and almost as flabby, swinging a string of enormous amber beads in the other. Having shaken hands white-man fashion, he waved us to two European chairs while he subsided on his cushions and commenced to stoke up a small charcoal fire, throwing incense on to it. Silence had the stage for some moments and then the king sneezed. At once there was a wail from the two bowed slaves in the middle of the courtyard. This was instantly taken up and drowned by a chorus of wails from the precincts. Whenever, throughout all our interviews, the king thought we were approaching the familiar or asking awkward questions, he would sneeze or cough or spit, or even clear his throat, and there would follow this uproar from his wailing chorus.
The first question he asked was about our rifles. He was very anxious to buy them. We were overjoyed to hear that he would be pleased to help us to a good elephant country, at the same time mentioning the fact that he was very fond of ivory.
Presently the conversation drifted to fever. And here we were astounded to find that he really appeared to believe that he was immortal. He naïvely told us he was a great friend of God’s, and that sickness of any sort never touched him. After many polite speeches on both sides we departed from our first visit to this remarkable man.
