Chapter 24

CHAPTER XXIV SOME UNEXPLORED WATER-WAYS Every few hundred yards the banks of the two great rivers, the Cross and Kwa Ibo, are broken to right or left by waterways, varying in breadth from good-sized creeks to streams and brooks so small that their entrances are all but hidden behind a veil of tangled lianes. One of the most important and interesting of those flowing into the Kwa Ibo is the Ubium River, the lower stretches of which were known to few, while the upper reaches, according to unanimous native testimony, were as yet unexplored. The current is swift and strong, while, even at the height of the dry season, the water is deep, for the most part, and navigable to within a few miles of the source. At one point, which all asserted was the highest to which a white man had as yet penetrated, it divides into three branches, but these join again farther on. Rumour had it that there was a water-way between this and Akaiya Creek, which flows into the Cross River ; but exploration proved the story to have no foundation in fact, as at least two miles of dry land intervene. There is always a fascination in being the first to penetrate any region, and perhaps that may account, to a certain extent, for the peculiar charm of this river, dark and clear like the “ black water ” of Homer, overhung here and there by the branches of flowering trees, many new to our collection and some hitherto unknown to science. Among the most beautiful was a leguminous tree—of a species not yet determined by the authorities but allied to the new genus Talbotiella—sixty to seventy feet in height, which overshadowed the river. The great tufts of its milky-white 319 blooms, the petals edged by a thin line of clearest crimson, stood out with startling distinctness from amid dark glossy leaves. Another, scarcely less beautiful, was a variety of Uvariastrum allied to the new species which we discovered last tour at Oban. Instead of springing only from the branches, however, in the ordinary way, the new flowers grew cauliflorously straight from the trunk, ten to a dozen cream-petalled pink-veined blooms, often three inches in length, borne on a single peduncle. We had been on the look-out for this tree for some time, as, long before reaching it, petals had been seen floating down stream, like fairy gondolas borne on the clear swift-flowing water. When freed from snags and fallen tree-trunks, over which, during our voyage of discovery, the canoe often balanced perilously, or upon which we had to stand till a way could be cut to allow of passage, the new creek should open up to trade many miles of swamp land, thickly populated and rich in oil and piassava palms. The people of this region, who at first were so timid that whole towns fled On our approach, were soon pacified. They awoke to the advantage to be gained by the opening up of their lands, and, on their own initiative, begged me to arrange for traders to come and buy their nuts, kernels, and palm-oil. Owing to transport difficulties hardly more than a quarter of this rich harvest could hitherto have been garnered ; while the rest had rotted uselessly, or sprung up into young saplings, in many cases so close together as to crush one another out of existence. Of all those whose help was asked in clearing the creeks only the Ubium seemed unwilling to co-operate. A deputation of chiefs came “ to complain ” that “ since they were born, they had never learned to manage a canoe ! ” It was, therefore, so they pleaded, impossible for them to cut through the tree trunks which had fallen and were blocking the water-way. It was obvious that the objection given was not the real reason, but failure followed the most careful attempts to get at the true cause of their unwillingness. Once more, as so often, the best intentions of the white man were found to beat powerlessly against the dead wall of a world of Near the Source of the Ubium River. Woman Potter at Ikotobo. thought and feeling utterly different from his own. It was not till a month later that the true reason was revealed, namely, dread of harming the sacred totemistic fish,1 called by Ibibio Offott, which dwelt in these waters. The comparatively high ground of this region, inhabited by Oronn and Okkobbor, is full of interest, more thickly wooded than the Southern lands, and with stretches of virgin bush here and there. Wherever the path leads past one of the curiously shaped ant-hills which, among the Ekoi, are called “ bush-men ” from their gnome-like form, a little hut is seen erected over the uncanny structure. Here— instead of being regarded as manifestations of beneficent powers and offered up in lieu of the human sacrifices now, to the great regret of the more wealthy section of the community, forbidden by White Rule—ant-hills are looked upon as the homes of evil spirits, and protective huts are raised over them, not in love, but in fear. Round some of these mounds lay the heads of animals sacrificed to propitiate the terrible inmates ; while one was surmounted by a human skull which, in all probability, owed its presence to the same superstition. In places, the bush showed signs of having been uncut for centuries, and, as one glanced through the leafy tangle, little groups of “ ghost pots ” were visible, marking the sites of graves ; while occasionally more pretentious memorials might be discovered, consisting of from three to twenty carved figures, representing the man whom they commemorated at different stages of his career, surrounded by relatives, wives, and slaves. One night, after a march through bush thick-strewn with graves, we arrived at Adut ’Nsitt to find the tents pitched beneath the shade of some fine trees which surrounded an open space near the village. It seemed an ideal camping ground, but the carriers all chose to seek hospitality in the town, on the plea that it was “ cold too much sleeping over the graves of dead chiefs.” Later, we learnt that the clear stretch of sand formed the burial place of the great men of the neighbourhood, and several arbour-like memorials were to be seen at its edge. Just before dawn an icy wind 1 See p. 231. Y sprang up, as if to strengthen the superstition as to the coldness of such sleeping-places. Our next march led through country where all was gay and prosperous. Little family groups were to be seen beneath sheltering palm trees, cutting the ripe nuts from their clusters, or piling them in great, oblong market- baskets. These heaps make splendid splashes of colour, for, when ripe, palm-nuts shade from clear gold through orange to cherry and crimson, with here and there a splash of deepest purple, thus giving, in one, all the blended colours of our fruit and grain harvest. Small brown babies tottered up and down, getting in every one’s way, or, tired with play, leant weary heads against the knees of busy mothers. In other places yam-planting was in full swing. Men, women, and children were busy preparing ground, digging holes for small pieces of the great tubers, which are “ set ” much in the same way as potatoes at home, making mounds over those already planted, or fixing sticks to support the graceful vines. This busy scene was disturbed by our arrival, for no sooner had the workers realised the fact that white women were of the party than, flinging down hoe, spade, and mat- chet, they ran along by the way-side, cheering with all their might. After these friendly folk had been left behind, we crossed a broad marsh crowded with azure-tinted Halopegia, and came to Itak, whence the inhabitants had fled on the rumour of our approach. The corporal, however, who was a native of these parts and therefore well informed as to local wiles, begged leave to visit some of the compounds. Our guide had suddenly announced that he had never been beyond this spot, so could not lead us any longer. It was therefore a relief to all when angry voices were heard from out a dwelling, and the corporal emerged, leading an old woman, whom he had found in one of the numerous “ hidie-holes ” with which such buildings abound. The crone proved truculent enough, and refused to lead us to the next town ; but, after some time, showed the way to a farm plantation of one of the chiefs, where we were fortunate enough to obtain a friendly guide. Between the towns of Itak and Atiabang, the road was lined, for long stretches, by miniature huts, beneath which, amid the usual pots, were to be seen human skulls obtained either from sacrificed slaves or slain foes. Hereabouts, too, we came upon the principal town of refuge for “ twin mothers ” in the north-eastern part of the District. This is called Esuk Inwan Akaiya (the beach of the farm of Akaiya), and stands just above the shore of a creek, which, two miles farther on, flows into a still more beautiful water-way, nearly a quarter of a mile in breadth, and as yet unmarked on any map, although forming one of the great arteries of native trade. Busy canoes, laden with palm-oil puncheons for Idua-Oronn or Calabar, race and splash through the water, the rhythmic beat of their paddles keeping time to their songs, monotonous enough to European ears, yet often with a queer haunting charm all their own. On they sweep to the broad Cross River, past other creeks as yet unexplored and with enticing possibilities. At night, should the moon be new or on the wane, these canoes are made fast to some outstanding clump of mangrove roots. Fires are fanned into life behind the shelter of small native stoves carried for the purpose, and, on these, odorous messes of smoked fish and palm-oil are prepared for the evening meal. Often, in the darkness, the ruddy flames seem to fill the whole boat, and give it, from a distance, the look of some huge lamp of antique form, floating astray upon the dark water—in all, save size, like the “ fire-boats of the dead ” adrift upon the mighty bosom of Mother Ganges. Should the moon be at the full, however, the paddlers take advantage of her light to keep on their way throughout the night. At such times, the weird melody of their strange chanties floats to an unbelievable distance on the still air, and is borne up the waters of many an unknown creek, to the shores of hidden villages cunningly screened from the eyes of possible raiders in old slave-dealing days. Amid this mass of creeks lies one in which Chief Henshaw nearly lost his life. His account of the events which led to the adventure is so indicative of the state of affairs prevailing only a few years ago, that it needs no apology for being given in full. It is practically in his own words. “ In the month of July 1897, the second son of Chief Osung Atanan of Odun Ukaw killed one of the women of his father’s household. On the plea that she was a witch and had caused his brother to fall sick by her magic, he first murdered her ; then cut out the unborn babe from her body and slashed off its head, saying that he would make an end of such devil’s spawn. “ This was reported to me and I informed Government of the matter. As a result, the man was arrested, tried at Calabar Assizes, and sentenced to death by hanging in his native town ; so that all the people should take warning and understand that it was now Government time, and that such things might no longer be done. “Now Odun Ukaw is a very big town, one of the largest and most important in all Oronn part; and when the head chief heard what Government proposed, he threatened that, should the white man attempt to hang his son, he would take measures to prevent it ; and all the men of his town agreed to stand by him. “ The day before the one fixed for the execution, I sent for Osung Atanan himself and several of his most important chiefs to visit me at Oronn. There I entertained them so well that they did not notice the arrival of the launch bringing the District Commissioner of Calabar, Mr. Whitehouse, and Captain Hill, who was then head of the police ; with them was also the murderer. I feasted the father and his chiefs, and then induced them to lie down and sleep while I went with the white men to Ukpata beach ; giving charge to my people that all should be done so as to persuade the visitors, if possible, to stay at Oronn until the business was over. “ In consequence, the young man was hanged in the midst of the town, while all the people ran round seeking the chiefs, for whose arrival they begged us to wait. Had these been present to take command, the inhabitants would certainly have fought to save the prisoner. As it was, we hurried and got the matter safely over. When all was finished and the body buried, we came back to Oronn, where the white men left me and went on themselves to Calabar. I went straight to break the news to the chief, who said : ‘ You shall see what will happen in consequence of this ! Had I been there, my son would never have been hanged ! ’ After saying this, he went home, swearing vengeance against the District Commissioner and myself. " In those days, there was a Minor Court at Ukpata, which is a dependency of Odun Ukaw. This I attended every Wednesday. The Assistant Clerk, Etetim Ene Okon by name, used to go beforehand on Tuesdays, to prepare the people, announcing : ‘ To-morrow will be Court Day. Those who have any complaint to make must come down.’ On this occasion he was going up as usual, but half-way to Odun Ukaw his friends warned him : “ ‘ Do not go there to-day, for it is not safe, because the townsfolk are holding a very big meeting to consult what is to be done about the death of the young chief.’ “ Etetim did not listen to this warning, but went on, and, when he reached the market-place, according to the testimony of a boy who was with him, the people demanded why he had come. He answered, ‘ To tell you to prepare for Court to-morrow.’ On hearing this, one of the young men rushed forward and struck him, calling out, ‘ Go back.’ As Etetim was a very strong man, he at once felled his assailant, on which the whole crowd fell upon him. “ This was on the twenty-first of September, about nine o’clock in the morning. They overpowered him, so many against one ! Then threw him down and flogged him to death. His body was carried into the Palaver-house and skinned ; then the skin was stretched out over a wall to dry, so that it might be used for a Juju drum. The flesh was cut up and a small piece sent to each of the neighbouring towns as a sign that they also were called upon to rise against Government. Some towns refused. Those who receive the flesh dry it in smoke, according to native custom ; then bear it forth at the death of any great chief, crying, ‘ Behold ! Here is the flesh of a man ! ’ “ About three o’clock a message came to me saying that the clerk had been seized by the people. At once I got my big canoe and went round. Luckily it was full tide and we came right up to the beach. There are two such near together, a big beach and a small one, the latter of which belonged to the dead clerk, and was near his dwelling and the Court House. On arrival I learned that he had been flogged, and that people were gathering from every direction and swarming in with great noise ; but the dead man’s family had not yet heard that he was already killed. “ I told my boys to take the canoe round to the big beach, because, if we were attacked in this small place, we could not help ourselves. I therefore made them push off and turn the canoe, so that there would be a chance to escape in the open water. They obeyed, and I told the head chief of the place, Okon Ekpang, to go up and bid the others bring down the clerk, that we might judge the case in Court, if he had done any bad thing. After the chief had started, I said to some Calabar traders who chanced to be there : ‘ When he comes back, send and let me know what message he brings. Should the clerk return with him, bid them both follow me.’ “ After that we pushed off from the beach, just beyond which the river takes a sharp bend. We had hardly turned this point, when a great noise was heard. All the people of the place flung themselves into the water, for they saw the enemy rushing down upon them, armed with guns and matchets. We pulled for home as hard as we could, paddling softly so as to make no noise, that they might not know of our whereabouts. Guns were fired from the shore, but none hit us. “ After we had gone, the enemy brought a great bowl, full of the blood of the slaughtered man, and poured it out before the threshold of his home. Thus was the news of his death announced to his people. “ Soon after I got back a messenger came to tell me all that had happened, at which I was very dismayed and at once reported it to Government. Next morning the District Commissioner of Calabar, Mr. Whitehouse, arrived with Captain Hill, Chief Magnus Duke, and sixty soldiers. Mr. Whitehouse did his best to induce the guilty towns to come in, but they refused and sent the message that we must come to meet them in the big market square. They chose this place because they could so easily have surrounded us there and killed us all by shooting from behind the cover of the encircling bush. “ Three days later we went up by the Eyo Abassi road instead of the more usual route from Ukpata, by which they expected us, and where they had made ready to fight us. When we neared the town, the people came out in their hundreds against us ; but being unprepared and divided, after the first volley they broke and ran, and within fifteen minutes the place was taken. “ There we found Odiong, the boy who had accompanied the dead clerk, and who was to be offered up that day to the dominant Juju of the town. He was chained fast in one of the houses, and was so paralysed by terror that he could not speak a word for three or four days—only gazed round him in a dazed way. “As a result, the head chief and about seven of the principal men who had caused the trouble were taken. They were tried in the Supreme Court and four were sentenced to death.” The whole of this part of the District, from Ukpata to James Town, is a labyrinth of creeks, along the banks of which several towns were found, unvisited till now. The extraordinary girth and height to which the mangrove of this region attains came as a great surprise. In places the smooth pale boles shoot upward, straight and tall as Norwegian firs ; while, beneath, interlacing roots stretch, curve on curve, far as the eye can reach. Raised above these arches, as if on natural piles, little fisher-huts may be seen ; enveloped at evening time by a blue mist of smoke, in which the day’s “ catch ” is dried. At low tide the mangrove swamps are often fringed with long stretches of mud, some of which are so deep as to be pronounced bottomless. Many stories are told of hunters who, having shot egret or flamingo along these treacherous flats, are led by their prey to a place whence there is no returning. The most famous of these “ hell bogs ” is, as previously mentioned, known by the grim name of Usun Ekkpo, i.e. Ghost’s road, from the number of victims drawn down in its slimy depths.