Chapter III: The Valley of the Niger

The ancient renown of Timbuctoo, its boasted commerce, and its prestige as a rich and powerful metropolis, warrant the assertion _à priori_ that the regions surrounding this city of the Niger must be remarkably fertile. It could hardly have usurped such a reputation. History affords no parallel of an error continuing to deceive the world through four or five centuries.

The geographer, sitting in his study between a modern map of Africa and the works of El Bekri, Ca da Mosto, De Baros, Léon the African, and other travellers, would reason thus: With sand to the north-east and west of it the huge market of Timbuctoo is situated on the threshold of the desert. Yet it is not with sand that the wheels of such an enormous traffic are greased. In order, therefore, that Timbuctoo should be enabled to play the part attributed to it, we should expect to find a rich extent of territory in the south, an isthmus of fertility, as it were, jutting into the sea of sand. We should anticipate this stretch of land to be large, since it has maintained a great commerce for some centuries, and supplied such varied markets as Morocco, Tuat, and Tripoli, as well as the various nomad populations of the desert.

Do these fertile regions really possess the happy distinction of being discoverable by mere force of logic, as certain stars are by mathematical calculation?

The occupation of Timbuctoo has made it possible to verify such surmises by opening up routes, accessible not only to the explorer proper, who crosses the country worn by privation and at the mercy of his guides, but available also for the traveller who lingers to gather complete information at his ease.

This country lying to the south of Timbuctoo is the Sudan, otherwise called the Valley and the Buckler of the Niger, a vast region, traversed to an extent of nearly 2500 miles by one of the largest rivers in the world.

Egypt was happily defined by Herodotus as being the ‘present of the Nile.’ What Herodotus said of Egypt we might with equal truth say of the Sudan.

The Arabian conqueror Amru, who took possession of Egypt in the seventh century, gives the following complete and accurate description of it in a letter to his master the Khalif Omar.

‘O Prince of the Faithful! Picture unto thyself an arid desert and a fruitful country, for such is Egypt. A beneficent river flows majestically through its midst. The rise and fall of its waters are as regular as the course of the sun and the moon. At an appointed time all the springs of the universe come to pay tribute to this king of rivers. They cause its waters to swell and leave their bed, covering the surface of Egypt with a fruitful mire, and when the waters cease to be necessary for the fertilisation of the soil, the obedient river returns to the limits prescribed to it by destiny, in order that the treasures it has hidden in the bosom of the earth may be gathered. The people thus favoured by Heaven sow seeds in the bowels of the earth, that they may be brought to prosperity by the munificence of the Supreme Being who causes harvests to ripen. The most abundant harvests are succeeded by sudden sterility; and thus it is, O Prince of the Faithful, that Egypt offers successively the images of an arid and sandy desert, a liquid and silvery plain, a marsh of black mire, a green, undulating meadow, and a field of golden grain. Blessed for ever be the Creator of such marvels.’

What the Nile has done for Egypt, the Niger has accomplished for the Sudan. In the course of a year we witness the same striking and opposed pictures. The cultivation is as facile as that of Egypt, and is due to the same regular rise and fall of the river. But the Niger shows an even greater munificence in its gifts than does its brother of Eastern Africa. For thousands of years the labour of man has co-operated with the beneficent work of the latter, and yet, flowing imbedded between two mountain chains, it only carries fertility to some few hundreds or thousands of feet; while the Niger, on the other hand, owing to its immense plains, dispenses its benefits over an extent of more than sixty miles without the intervening aid of man.

The prestige of Timbuctoo in the past, and its boasted commerce, are now explained by finding it as we do upon the threshold of another Egypt, equally favoured by nature, but infinitely greater in extent. Its only disadvantages consist in not having been developed by four or five thousand years of civilisation, and in not standing in the doorway of Europe as does the Valley of the Nile.

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The Niger rises in the mountain chain which extends from the country of Sulima in the north to Kono in the south, and spreads to the Kissi country in the east. Contrary to the generally accepted opinion, the range is not, geologically speaking, a dependency of that Foota Jallon upheaval which is considered the centre of a great movement whose subordinate branches were pushed beyond the sources of the Niger. In reality, the range of the Niger’s sources, or the Kouranko chain, forms the true centre of the upheaval. Its altitudes, in the countries of Negaya and Kono, attain to 3840 feet (sources of the Niger), and 4920 feet in the south, while the average elevation of the Foota Jallon is not more than 2625 feet.

The principal summits of the Kouranko range are: Mount Bondi, Mount Ma, Mount Keina, Mount Konko-Kourawa, the two Kolas, the two Soullous, Mount Kokonante (sources of the Niger), Mount Darou, the needles of Kinki, the Songoula, the Banka, Fingui, Soofoa, Tinki, Owaloo, Kora, and the Toumba (the four last are in the country of Kono).

In the Kissi country two rivers, the Paliko and the Tembi, flow towards the north, pursue a parallel course, and, meeting at Laya, unite in one bed to become the Niger or Joliba. The most important of the two rivers is the Tembi, considered by the natives as the Father of Joliba. It rises in a little hill to the east of Mount Kokonante, and not far from the foot of Mount Darou. The hill from which the Tembi flows is in no way remarkable from a topographical point of view. Bare at its summit, it is covered a little lower down with a vegetation which, growing thicker as it descends towards the waterway of the valley, proclaims the presence of water.

About a hundred feet from the summit of the hill is a little basin, about three feet in diameter and a foot in depth, full of clear water, and called by the natives Tembi-Kuntu, or Head of Tembi. A hundred feet further down is another and larger basin, which is not easily found on account of the thick vegetation, the inextricable confusion of thorny canes, trees thrown down by storms, tangles of creepers and tree ferns, in which it is hidden.

The water of this little creek flows through the wood, and reappears 656 feet lower down in the valley. At this point the Tembi is a mere rivulet; 875 yards from its source it has become, at the village of Tembi-Kuntu, a gentle stream, increasing rapidly in size and depth as it flows towards the north. At Nelia, eight miles from the source, it is eighty feet wide, and at Farannah, sixty-two miles from the source, it has attained a breadth of nearly 328 feet.

The wood from which the Tembi springs is reputed sacred, and is the subject of innumerable legends and superstitions. Access to it is denied to the profane; terrible misfortunes overtake any one uttering a word or touching anything there, and warriors and all who have shed blood die on approaching this spot. Its waters are believed to express the judgments of God. If a man is accused of some crime which he denies he is forced to drink of them, and if he is guilty his sin is proved by an inflation of the stomach, followed by instant death.

The natives say that in the centre of the little creek of Tembi is a rocky islet. This little island is the abode of the Spirit of the Spring, and the mysterious retreat of the High Priest who represents the deity to mortals. He takes up his residence there by plunging into the water and approaching it invisibly. According to the legend there is a golden dwelling at the bottom of the lake, and his acolytes, the minor prophets, profess to have heard the noise he makes in opening and shutting the doors of his supernatural home. High priests and lesser priests unite in jealously guarding the approaches to the spring, and the mystery they make of it confers great distinction and authority upon them throughout the country. The neighbouring kinglets refer to them before undertaking a war or other act of importance, and the common herd consult them on all occasions of weight. The Spirit of the Spring, being eminently practical, will only condescend to attend to them through the medium of sacrifice.

These ceremonies are not very ferocious, merely oxen being offered, and not human victims, as in neighbouring Dahomey. The oxen, however, must be young, as the Spirit likes his meat to be tender. The immolations do not take place at the spring, but in the village of Nalia, where the priests live with their wives and families. When the animal is slaughtered the best portions are cut off, and naturally go to the ministers of the Spirit and their families. The head and legs are left adhering to the skin, which is then stuffed, sewn up, and thrown into the river as it flows past the sacrificial spot. A few paces further on the stream momentarily disappears through a subterranean passage. The stuffed ox disappears with the Tembi, to reappear later on, its head proudly erect, as, apparently overflowing with life, it rears and plunges, appearing and disappearing with the bubbling of the current. Every one then retires satisfied; the Spirit of the Spring and his ministers pleased with the prospect of some first-rate meals, and the people, who had defrayed the costs, charmed by the gambols of their ox.

This Kissi region lies in the ninth latitude, where the last ramifications of the Foota Jallon mountains join the first buttresses of the Kong chain. The source of the Niger is to be found there, and it is _par excellence_ the land of heavy rainfalls. From February to July the water falls from the skies in veritable torrents. The gentle slopes of the mountain ranges are channelled by innumerable cascades, rivulets, brooks, and rivers, that carry off the heavenly overflow. It is not surprising, therefore, that at Kouroussa, although the river has received only three tributaries of importance, it has already acquired an imposing bed. The further it advances, the larger and more numerous become the waters by which it is swelled. These supplies cease abruptly above Bammaku, and from there to Diafaraba the river is almost solitary.

It is between Tembi-Kuntu and Diafaraba that we meet with the first of a homogeneous series of naturally irrigated zones. The left bank is narrow, and descends in a gentle slope to the Niger, the Foota Jallon range closely bordering and not quitting it until after Koulikoro. The right bank, however, is free, and forms a large plain, which is splendidly watered by the crowd of tributaries that run parallel to the great river.

The latter does not squander its miracles on this first zone, which is already so richly dowered with precious waters that its co-operation would be superfluous. These countries of the Upper Niger are radiant. Tropical vegetation spreads over them with the utmost prodigality, its orange, citron, kola, and banana trees delighting the eyes of the European.

The Niger is accumulating its forces as it crosses this region, and its inundations are unimportant, scarcely overflowing the banks by half a mile. The giant is reserving his strength that he may transform into opulent plains the immense stretches of sand that await his coming from here to Diafaraba. The river pauses for a moment below Bammaku, in front of the rocky barrier of Sotouba, in order to gather up and concentrate, before approaching the sand, the formidable mass of waters sent by the heavens during the previous five months. Then in the plenitude of its strength it rushes on towards the north, passing Nyamina, Segu, and Sansanding on its way.

Having cleared Diafaraba, it arrives, towards September, impetuous and swollen, at Mopti, where it is joined by a monster tributary, the Bani, with a mass of waters as formidable as its own. With such a reinforcement, the army of waters has grown immense, infinite. Its bed is now too narrow, it stifles between the banks. In front, behind, upon all sides, it seeks outlets, hurling itself into the least depression, and invading the smallest passage. And now takes place what I shall call the intoxication of the Niger.

Happy intoxication! if such it be. The river flings itself headlong over the entire low-lying region between Diafaraba and Timbuctoo, covering it and swamping it, until a steppe of barren sand becomes one of the most fertile spots in the universe. It has for centuries drifted a beneficent vegetable mud into these low-lying countries, effacing the sand and transforming this region into a granary of plenty. We find there not one delta, as in Egypt, but three.

The first is from Diafaraba to the approaches of Lake Debo. On its left bank, having found two auspicious outlets, the Niger forms the pools of Diarka and Bourgoo. Its principal branch runs in a parallel direction, and flows with its two arms into the Debo. Its waters are still so abundant, in spite of this distribution of its forces, that the three streams communicate with one another by means of natural channels. The Bani connects itself with the Niger in the same manner on the right bank.

Thus a most thorough and complete system of irrigation is formed, to which man has not needed to put his hand; and fertility is spread over thousands of square miles. The rise and fall of these waters is as regular as those of the Nile, and an infinitely greater distance is covered. At Mopti, for example, you can calculate in September ninety miles from east to west inundated to a depth of eight or nine feet.

The countries of Sana, Bourgoo, Massina, Jenneri, and Kunari are situated in this delta.

The second extends from Lake Debo to El Oual Hadj. Here the Niger again divides into three branches. The least important, the Koli-Koli, rises south of Lake Debo; the Barra Issa or Black Niger, and the Issa Ber or White Niger, north of the lake. The Koli-Koli traverses Lake Korienza and joins the Black Niger at Sarafara, the latter being in its turn united with the White Niger near El Oual Hadj.

Like the Bani and the Niger, like the Niger and the pools of Diarka and Bourgoo, these three branches communicate with one another by means of winding channels, and we find everywhere the same system of irrigation accompanied by the same wonderful fertility. Nor is this all. On the left bank, at the extreme limit of inundation, the river finds a new formula for its gifts in an admirable series of lakes, twelve in number, and separated by chains of hills. The following are the names of eleven of them, counting from south-west to north-east: the Kabara, Tenda, Sumpi, Takadji, Sanaki, Horo, Fati, Goro, Dauna, Tela, and the Faguibine.

The floods fill these lakes by means of gullies more or less wide. Those of the Fati, Horo, and Takadji are particularly wide and open to commerce at any time of the year. Others are clear for certain months (October to March), and are then obstructed by weeds, not, however, to the extent of impeding the passage of small canoes. The borders of these lakes, like the banks of the river they rival in fertility, are alternately flooded and left bare for a distance of some hundreds of yards.

The lakes of Tela, Faguibine, and Dauna form depressions to a depth of thirty-three feet below the mean level of the Niger. They are fed by means of gullies and subterranean infiltration. At the height of the floods, by simply scraping the ground with your hand, you can find water anywhere on the surface between the river and the lakes.

This chaplet of lakes forms an ingenious system of reservoirs for the formidable masses of water discharged by the Niger and Bani united. They return a portion of their water by means of gullies and channels as the floods subside. To the second delta belong the countries of Guimbala, Farimanka, Aoussa-Kattawal, Seno Krou-ku, Fituka, and Sobundu-Samba.

The third delta occupies the valley extending from El Oual Hadj to Khabara, the port of Timbuctoo. After El Oual Hadj the river pursues a solitary course to its mouth.

This zone of irrigation is formed in the following manner:--Numerous natural channels connect the Tela and Faguibine lakes with the left bank of the river, the most important of them going by the name of the Pool of Gundam. On the right bank a new series of lakes and the Pools of Guaki and Kuna are scattered over the north-east of the valley. Unfortunately these lakes are only known by name, but according to the latest information they are twenty-three in number; among them are the Kangara, Dinaguira, Doumba, Labou, Hongonta, Fatta, Tahetant, Tibouraguina, Do, Gakora, Tengueral, Titoulawina, Agwabada, Garo, Haribongo, Kherba, Tibouraghina, Dadji, Fankora, and the Marmar.

This delta comprises Kissou, Killi, Surayamo, Aribinda, and Gurma.

Retarded thus by innumerable and remote digressions, by liberalities great and small, it is not until January that the Niger reaches Timbuctoo. Driven back there by the sands of the Sahara, it takes a sharp turn to the east, the dunes closely following it on the left bank and preventing it from spreading to its full width. On the right bank, however, the country is once more favourable for inundations, and the Niger makes its fertilising power manifest in channels and lakes which irrigate the country by natural means and give this Bamba region a widespread reputation for wealth.

The course of the river to the east is now suddenly arrested by the granite range of Taosay. It forces a narrow passage for a while, and then, wearied with struggling against these rocky masses, it makes straight for the south. Here again the left bank proves inhospitable, while the Niger continues its customary marvellous transformations on the right. Its progress is so greatly retarded here that it is not until the middle of July that it arrives at Say with its full complement of water, and it finally reaches the mouth in September. Nearly a year therefore has it taken this immense mass of water from the regions of the Upper Niger to reach, considerably lessened in bulk, the Atlantic Ocean.

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We have now seen that Nature has neglected nothing to make these southern lands fit to maintain a commerce so important as that of Timbuctoo. Cattle-rearing and agriculture attain to an extreme degree of perfection, and one fondly pictures the wealth that might be drawn from a country so marvellously constructed.