I doctored the native, and gave him some milk to drink, and his friends
carried him home. This was a very unfortunate accident, and from that
day the natives gave Abd-el-Kader a wide berth.
Most of the women were heavily laden with meat: the nets were quickly
gathered up, and, with whistles blowing as a rejoicing, the natives
returned homewards.
The women were very industrious, and never went home empty-handed; but
if some were unfortunate in their supply of meat, they gathered immense
bundles of firewood, which they carried many miles upon their heads to
their respective villages . . . .
The time passed very happily at Fatiko, and the fact of my joining with
the natives in their sports added to the confidence already established.
I frequently went into their villages to smoke a pipe, and to chat with
the people: this always pleased them, and the children generally crowded
round me, as I never went empty-handed, but a few beads or other
trifles were always forthcoming as presents.
Gimoro had been very unfortunate in losing his children when young, and
I understood that the mortality was very great among all infants from
two years old to five.
I attribute this to the absurd custom of public night nurseries.
According to the population of the village, there are certain houses
built upon pedestals or stone supports about three feet from the ground.
In the clay wall of the circular building is a round hole about a foot
in diameter; this is the only aperture.
At sunset, when the children have been fed, they are put to bed in the
simplest manner, by being thrust headforemost through the hole in the
wall, assisted, if refractory, by a smack behind, until the night
nursery shall have received the limited number. The aperture is then
stopped up with a bundle of grass if the nights are cool.
The children lie together on the clay floor like a litter of young
puppies, and breathe the foulest air until morning, at which time they
are released from the suffocating oven, to be suddenly exposed to the
chilly daybreak. Their naked little bodies shiver round a fire until the
sun warms them, but the seeds of diarrhoea and dysentery have already
been sown.
It may be readily imagined that accidents frequently occur in the great
hunts already described, as it is quite impossible to speculate upon the
species of animal that may be driven into the net. A fine little lad of
about eleven years was killed by a leopard within a mile of my Fatiko
station. The grass had been fired, and the animals instinctively knew
that they were pursued.
The boy went to drink at a stream close to some high reeds, when a
leopard pounced upon him without the slightest warning.
