36 FROM THE NIGER TO THE NILE 



At the first sight of the Munchi, Jose was instantly reminded 

 of the Boobi of Fernando Po. In their type and even in 

 their gestures they were identical, and in their habits, too, 

 for some of them had their bodies smeared over with red clay, 

 a custom that is common with the Boobi, but which does not 

 obtain with the neighbouring tribes of the Lower Niger region. 

 The Munchi and the Boobi have also one great weakness 

 in common, and that is drink, which, next to hunting, might 

 be called their ruling passion. A spirit is extracted from the 

 millet, with which they repair on certain days of festival 

 to the compound of the king, where they drink themselves 

 into a happy state of oblivion. Jose, whose object was really 

 to collect birds, thought it wise to make himself popular by 

 first shooting some meat for the Munchi ; so he followed the 

 guidance of the old hunter, who led him to a pool, the marge 

 of which was covered with the spoor of hundreds of animals. 

 It was wonderful to see the old man go down on hands and 

 knees and submit the marks to an exhaustive process of 

 selection, quickly taking up a track to reject it as quickly, 

 and finally going off like a dog on the scent, bidding Jose 

 follow for a quarter of a mile to where, sure enough, there was 

 a herd of hartebeest grazing. Jose then stalked and brought 

 one down with a good shot at 200 yards. He felt a little 

 disappointed at the rather moderate praise of the old hunter, 

 who said that Jose had done well for a white man and then 

 offered to give an exhibition of his native prowess. Accord- 

 ingly, he fastened on his head the head and neck of a hornbill 

 in the manner I have before described and with arrow laid 

 on bow, crawled on his knees close to the herd from which he 

 singled out a male, and started to approach it, swaying his 



