The Bafut Beagles

Wha! he said at length in a wistful voice, na fine chop dis beef. You go cook um with coco yam ...

His voice died away and he licked his lips reminiscently.

The hunter fixed me with his eye, and shuffled his feet as an indication that he wanted to speak.

yes, na whatee?

Masa want to go for dis place de Fon de talk?

yes. We go go to-morrow for morning time.

yes, sah. For catch dis beef Masa go need plenty people. Dis beef fit run too much, sah.

all right, you go tell all my boys dey go for bush tomorrow.

yes, sah.

He stood and shuffled his feet again.

whatee?

Masa go want me again?

no, my friend. Go back for kitchen and drink your wine.

Tank you, sah, he said, grinning, and disappeared into the gloom of the veranda.

Presently the Fon rose to go, and I walked with him as far as the road. As we paused at the edge of the compound he turned and smiled down at me from his great height.

I be ole man, he said; I de tire too much. If I no be ole man I go come with you for bush to-morrow.

you lie, my friend. You no be ole man. You done get power too much. You get plenty power, power pass all dis picken hunter man.

He chuckled, and then sighed.

no, my friend, you no speak true. My time done pass. I de tire too much. I get plenty wife, and dey de tire me too much. I get palaver with dis man, with dat man, an it de tire me too much. Bafut na big place, plenty people. If you get plenty people you get plenty palaver.

na so, I saway you get plenty work.

True, he said,_and then added, his eyes twinkling wickedly,  sometimes I get palaver with the D.O., an dat de tire me most of all.

He shook my hand, and I could hear him chuckling as he walked off across the courtyard.

The next morning we set off on our hyrax hunt - myself, the four Bafut Beagles, and five of the household staff. For the first two or three miles we walked through the cultivated areas and the small farms. On the gently sloping hills fields had been dug, and the rich red earth shone in the early morning sunshine. In some of the fields the crops were already planted and ripe, the feathery bushes of cassava or the row of maize, each golden head with its blond tassel of silken thread waving in the breeze. In other fields the women were working, stripped to the waist, wielding short-handled, broad-bladed hoes. Some of them had tiny babies strapped to their backs, and they seemed as unaware of these encumbrances as a hunchback would be of his hump. Most of the older ones were smoking long black pipes, and the rank grey smoke swirled up into their faces as they bent over the ground. It was mostly the younger women who were doing the harder work of hoeing, and their lithe, glistening bodies moved rhythmically in the sun as they raised the heavy and clumsy implements high above their heads and then brought them sweeping down. Each time the blade buried itself in the red earth the owner would give a loud grunt.

As we walked through the fields among them they talked with us in their shrill voices, made jokes, and laughed uproariously, all without pausing in their work, and without losing its rhythm. The grunts that interspersed their remarks gave a curious sound to the conversation.

Morning, Masa ... ughl... which side you go?. . ugh I Masa go go for bush... ugh!... no be so, Masa?... ughl Masa go catch plenty beef... ughl... Masa get power... ughl'

Walker strong, Masa__ugh!... catch beef plenty... ugh 1'

Long after we had left the fields and were scrambling up the golden slopes of the foothills we could hear them chattering and laughing and the steady thump of the hoes striking home. When we reached the crest of the highest range of hills that surrounded Bafut the hunters pointed out our destination: a range of mountains, purple and misty, that seemed an enormous distance away. The household staff gave gasps and moans of dismay and astonishment that I should want them to walk so far, and Jacob, the cook, said that he did not think he would be able to manage it, as he had unfortunately picked up a thorn in his foot. Examination proved that there was no thorn in his foot, but a small stone in his shoe. The discovery and removal of the stone left him moody and disgruntled, and he lagged behind, talking to himself in a ferocious undertone. To my surprise, the distance was deceptive, and within three hours we were walking through a long winding valley at the end of which the mountains reared up in a wall of glittering gold and green. As we toiled up the slope through the waist-high grass, the hunters explained to me what the plan of campaign was to be. Apparently we had to round one of the smooth buttresses of the mountain range, and in between this projection and the next lay a long valley that thrust its way into the heart of the mountains. The sides of this valley were composed of almost sheer cliffs, at the base of which were the rocks where hyrax lived.