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hand. A sword dance ensues, the four going round and round in a
circle. The gentleman with a sword contorts himself, prods viciously
at imaginary foes, and every now and then makes a playful attempt
to smite off one of the drummers’ legs. This performance being
terminated—accompanied the while by incessant shouting on the
part of every one in general—the actors retire, and the Emir holds up
his thin aristocratic hand.
Instantly a silence falls. The change is singularly impressive. The
Emir begins to speak in a low voice to a herald mounted on a raised
platform at his side. The herald, the perspiration pouring down his
face, shouts out each sentence as it falls from the Emir’s lips. As the
speech proceeds the Emir becomes more animated. He waves his
arm with a gesture full of dignity and command. And now the silence
is occasionally broken with sounds of approval. Finally he stops, and
it is the turn of the Resident who smilingly delivers himself of a much
shorter oration which, as in the previous case, is shouted to the
assemblage by the herald. I was able to obtain, through the courtesy
of the Resident, from the Emir’s Waziri a rendering of the speech of
which the following is a translation—
After a vain attempt to shake hands with the Emir, our respective
mounts altogether declining to assist, we ride out of the town
escorted by a couple of hundred horsemen. A little way past the
gates we halt while they, riding forward a hundred yards or so,
wheel, and charge down upon us with a shout, reining their horses
with a sudden jerk, so near to us that the ensanguined foam from the
cruel bits bespatters us.
As we ride home to the Residency two miles out of the town,
uppermost in the mind at least of one of us is the fascination of this
strange land, with its blending of Africa and the East, its barbaric
displays, its industrial life, its wonderful agricultural development—
above all, perhaps, the tour de force of governing it with a handful of
White officials and a handful of native troops.
PART II
SOUTHERN NIGERIA
Beyond the deltaic region proper lies the vast belt of primeval and
secondary forest of luxurious growth, giant trees, tangled vines and
creepers, glorious flowering bushes, gaudy butterflies, moist
atmosphere, and suffocating heat. Beyond the forest belt again lies,
with recurrent stretches of forest, the more open hilly country, the
beginning of the uplands of the North. When an authority on forestry
recently wrote that “British Columbia is the last great forest reserve
left,” he forgot West Africa. That is what West Africa has continually
suffered from—forgetfulness. The resources of the Nigerian forest
belt are as yet far from being fully determined, but sufficient is now
known of them to show that they are enormously rich. Besides the oil
palm and the wine palm (which produces the piassava of commerce)
the forest belt contains large quantities of valuable mahoganies,
together with ebony, walnut, satin, rose, and pear woods, barwood,
and other dye-woods, several species of rubber, African oak, gums
(copal), kola, and numerous trees suitable to the manufacture of
wood-pulp. Oil-bearing plants abound in great quantities, as do also
fibres, several of which have been favourably reported upon by the
Imperial Institute. The shea-butter tree, to which I shall have
occasion again to refer, is an inhabitant of the dry zone.
THE TROPICAL BUSH.