To our surprise we were on the road by eight o’clock, and, as if to make up for the previous day, the “Godspeed” went like a bird. At midday we lunched at the roadside under the massive trees, drinking warm beer, contesting ownership of the sandwiches with the local ants and surveying our surroundings with the field-glasses. Bird life, as before, seemed the most prominent: Yellow-casque Hornbills honking and swishing in the tree-tops, kingfishers glittering on the dead tree stumps, a beautiful rich brown and yellow Coucal with a shrike-like beak, that peered fascinated at us while we ate. A lovely blood-red dragon-fly zoomed down the road, flicked sideways, and landed on the rim of my glass of beer. Six large ants crawled slowly and methodically up my trouser leg, and they were presently joined by a small green caterpillar that swung suddenly out of the sky on an almost invisible thread.
We reached Mamfe at nightfall, and soon were installed in the great, empty, echoing rooms of the rest-house, where we watched the pale pink geckos creep out from the cracks and scutter across the ceiling in hot pursuit of the insects our lamp had attracted. They crept across the white ceiling almost imperceptibly, until they were near enough to a resting moth or fly, and then they would suddenly rush in with incredible speed and snap. The next moment the insect would have gone, and the gecko, after a short pause for gulping and meditation, would trot off across the roof to another meal.
After getting stores and various other commodities together in Mamfe, John and I decided to split up. John wanted to go to a village called Bakebe, some twenty-five miles from Mamfe, which he thought would be a good place for birds. I, on the other hand, wished to go to Eshobi. This village is situated north of the Cross River on the edge of a section of forest that stretches unbroken and almost uninhabited hundreds of miles northwards until it reaches the desolate mountains where the gorilla has its stronghold. I felt that it would be an ideal place to set up a subsidiary camp, while John established the main base at Bakebe. While I collected mammals and reptiles I could also be obtaining birds for John, and while collecting birds in Bakebe he could also get some mammals and reptiles for me. On this plan we agreed, and I set about the task of obtaining carriers for the trek to Eshobi (for there was no road to it), and hiring a lorry to transport John to his village, which was, fortunately, on a road.
The morning of our separation arrived and, with it, my ten carriers. John and I surveyed them as we ate breakfast under the trees on the rest-house lawn. They were an unprepossessing lot.
“I shouldn’t think”, said John, eyeing them, “that you will even reach Eshobi with that lot. They will probably eat you before you’ve gone half a mile into the forest.”
At this point one of the carriers yawned and displayed teeth that had been filed to points in the time- honoured cannibal way, and I was not reassured. At this moment, however, the barber arrived. It had been John who had suggested that I should get my hair cut before plunging off to Eshobi, and the suggestion was sound.
As I seated myself, and the barber placed his robe reverently round me, I noticed that the carriers were dancing about, slapping themselves and cursing. I thought nothing of it until I was suddenly assailed with a series of agonizing bites on my leg, and I looked down and got my first view of a driver ant column spread out to attack. The ground was a seething black mass of ants. I roared for rescue, and two of the staff came dashing to my aid, rolled up my trousers and started to pick the ants off my legs. Just at that moment a small boy wandered on to the scene carrying two baby Drills clasped round his waist. Now I was very anxious to obtain some of these baboons, so I bargained furiously with the lad, and eventually bought them. He planted them both in my lap and departed hurriedly, for the ants were already investigating his legs. The Drills decided that this change of ownership did not appeal to them at all, and they both started to kick and scream and bite like spoilt children. The scene in the compound now beggared description: the carriers were leaping about to keep clear of the ants, our staff were trying to get the ants out of the carriers’ loads, I was struggling with the Drills, finding myself very much hampered by the barber’s cloak, and the two members of the staff were still working on ant extermination on my upper calves. The barber had not enjoyed himself so much for years; he gazed at the lively scene, occasionally exchanging a bit of good advice or an insult with one of the carriers or the staff, and absent-mindedly chopping in the general direction of my scalp. Once, when he told a carrier which load to take, the argument waxed so fierce that I expected an ear to fall in my lap at any moment.
Eventually we sorted things out, and John accompanied us to the rusty suspension bridge which spanned the Cross River. On the other side was the forest and Eshobi. We stood there, watching the line of carriers make their way across, a hundred feet above the dark waters. As they reached the other side they were swallowed up in the multi-coloured undergrowth of the forest. When the last had disappeared, and only their voices came faintly to us, I turned to John.
“Well, dear boy,” I said, “I must brave the unknown. See you in about three months’ time.”
“Good luck,” said John, and, as an afterthought, “you’ll need it, I expect. . . ”
I crossed the rickety, groaning planks of the bridge, the lizards darting away from me across the sun-drenched wood. At the other side I turned and waved to John, who now seemed dwarfed by the width of the river and the great trees under which he was standing. Then I turned and walked quickly down the path into the forest, anxious to catch the carriers up.
After all those months of waiting and preparation the great moment had at last arrived.
PART ONE
ESHOBI
CHAPTER ONE
THE FOREST BY DAY
I REALIZED that as soon as the hunting got under way and the collection increased, most of my time would be taken up in looking after the animals, and I should not be able to wander far from camp. So I was eager to get into the forest while I had the chance, and while the camp site was still in the process of being cleared I sent a message to the Chief of Eshobi, saying that I would like to see him. He arrived with four council members at a crucial moment when I was watching, with increasing exasperation, the efforts of five men to erect my tent, with conspicuous lack of success.
The chief was a small, bewildered-looking little man, clad in a red and gold robe, an orange stocking cap on his head, and clutching to his breast an enormous and exceedingly angry duck. The council members, an unctuous, shifty-eyed crowd, steered him through the tangle of equipment to where I stood, and then pushed him forward to say his piece. He cleared his throat, took a firmer grip on the duck, and started. It was made as difficult as possible for him by the duck, who, tried beyond endurance, flapped its wings in his face, and quacked vigorously in a hoarse and complaining way. It was so large and strong that at one point I thought it was going to take off and carry the chief with it, but he mastered it, and continued his speech a trifle breathlessly, his stocking cap askew. Having finished, he thrust the duck into my arms with relief, and I passed it on to Pious just as hurriedly.
There followed a long exchange of compliments between the chief and myself (via Pious), and an explanation as to why I had come to Eshobi. I showed him, and the council members, pictures of the various animals I wanted, and they were captivated, prodding the illustrations with their brown fingers, chortling and nodding, and ejaculating loud and appreciative “Eh . . . aehhs!” at each fresh wonder. The whole thing went down very well, and I extracted from the chief a promise that he would send to me the very best hunter in the village to act as my guide. Then I dashed him two packets of cigarettes, and he trotted off towards the village very pleased with himself. A little distance away I saw the council members close in on him and skilfully relieve him of most of the dash, ignoring his feeble protests. I turned my attention back to the tent, which had just fallen gracefully to the ground for about the sixth time.