‘What is it?’ asked Bob in hushed tones, seeing that I was gazing at the creature with an expression of bliss on my face.
‘This,’ I said ecstatically, ‘is a beast I have tried to get every time I’ve been to the Cameroons. Euoticus elegantulus, or better known as a needle-clawed lemur or bushbaby. They’re extremely rare, and if we succeed in getting this one back to England it will be the first ever to be brought back to Europe.’
‘Gosh,’ said Bob, suitably impressed.
I showed the little beast to Elias.
‘You savvay dis beef, Elias?’
‘Yes, sah, I savvay um.’
‘Dis kind of beef I want too much. If you go get me more I go pay you one one pound. You hear.’
‘I hear, sah. But Masa savvay dis kind of beef ’e come out for night time. For dis kind of beef you go look um with hunter light.’
‘Yes, but you tell all people of Eshobi I go pay one one pound for dis beef, you hear?’
‘Yes, sah. I go tell um.’
‘And now,’ I said to Bob, carefully tying up the bag with the precious beef inside, ‘let’s get back to Mamfe quick and get this into a decent cage where we can see it.’
So we packed up the equipment and set off at a brisk pace through the forest towards Mamfe, pausing frequently to open the bag and make sure that the precious specimen had got enough air, and had not been spirited away by some frightful juju. We reached Mamfe at lunch-time and burst into the house, calling to Jacquie and Sophie to come and see our prize. I opened the bag cautiously and Euoticus edged its head out and surveyed us all in turn with its enormous, staring eyes.
‘Oh, isn’t it sweet,’ said Jacquie.
‘Isn’t it a dear?’ said Sophie.
‘Yes,’ I said proudly, ‘it’s a …’
‘What shall we call it?’ asked Jacquie.
‘We’ll have to think of a good name for it,’ said Sophie.
‘It’s an extremely rare …’ I began.
‘How about Bubbles?’ suggested Sophie.
‘No, it doesn’t look like a Bubbles,’ said Jacquie surveying it critically.
‘It’s an Euoticus …’
‘How about Moony?’
‘No one has ever taken it back …’
‘No, it doesn’t look like a Moony either.’
‘No European zoo has ever …’
‘What about Fluffykins?’ asked Sophie.
I shuddered.
‘If you must give it a name call it Bug-eyes,’ I said.
‘Oh, yes!’ said Jacquie, ‘that suits it.’
‘Good,’ I said, ‘I am relieved to know that we have successfully christened it. Now what about a cage for it?’
‘Oh, we’ve got one here,’ said Jacquie. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
We eased the animal into the cage, and it squatted on the floor glaring at us with unabated horror.
‘Isn’t it sweet?’ Jacquie repeated.
‘Is ’o a poppet?’ gurgled Sophie.
I sighed. It seemed that, in spite of all my careful training, both my wife and my secretary relapsed into the most revolting fubsy attitude when faced with anything fluffy.
‘Well,’ I said resignedly, ‘supposing you feed ’oos poppet? This poppet’s going inside to get an itsy-bitsy slug of gin.’
PART TWO. Back to Bafut
Mail by Hand
My good friend,
I am glad that you have arrive once more to Bafut. I welcome you. When you are calm from your journeys come and see me.
Your good friend,
Fon of Bafut
Chapter Three. The Fon’s Beef
On our return from Eshobi, Jacquie and I loaded up our lorry with the cages of animals we had obtained to date, and set out for Bafut, leaving Bob and Sophie in Mamfe for a little longer to try and obtain some more of the rain-forest animals.
The journey from Mamfe to the highlands was long and tedious, but never failed to fascinate me. To begin with, the road ran through the thick forest of the valley in which Mamfe lay. The lorry roared and bumped its way along the red road between gigantic trees, each festooned with creepers and lianas, through which flew small flocks of hornbills, honking wildly, or pairs of jade-green touracos with magenta wings flashing as they flew. On the dead trees by the side of the road the lizards, orange, blue and black, vied with the pigmy kingfishers over the spiders, locusts and other succulent titbits to be found amongst the purple and white convolvulus flowers. At the bottom of each tiny valley ran a small stream, spanned by a creaking wooden bridge, and as the lorry roared across, great clouds of butterflies rose from the damp earth at the sides of the water and swirled briefly round the bonnet. After a couple of hours the road started to climb, at first almost imperceptibly, in a series of great swinging loops through the forest, and here and there by the side of the road you could see the giant tree-ferns like green fountains spouting miraculously out of the low growth. As one climbed higher, the forest gave way to occasional patches of grassland, bleached white by the sun.
Then, gradually, as though we were shedding a thick green coat, the forest started to drop away and the grassland took its place. The gay lizards ran sun-drunk across the road, and flocks of minute finches burst from the undergrowth and drifted across in front of us, their crimson feathering making them look like showers of sparks from some gigantic bonfire. The lorry roared and shuddered, steam blowing up from the radiator, as it made the final violent effort and reached the top of the escarpment. Behind lay the Mamfe forest, in a million shades of green, and before us was the grassland, hundreds of miles of rolling mountains, lying in folds to the farthest dim horizons, gold and green, stroked by cloud shadows, remote and beautiful in the sun. The driver eased the lorry on to the top of the hill and brought it to a shuddering halt that made the red dust swirl up in a waterspout that enveloped us and our belongings. He smiled the wide, happy smile of a man who has accomplished something of importance.
‘Why we stop?’ I inquired.
‘I go piss,’ explained the driver frankly, as he disappeared into the long grass at the side of the road.
Jacquie and I uncoiled ourselves from the red-hot interior of the cab and walked round to the back of the lorry to see how our creatures were faring. Phillip, seated stiff and upright on a tarpaulin, turned to us a face bright red with dust. His trilby, which had been a very delicate pearl grey when we started, was also bright red. He sneezed violently into a green handkerchief, and surveyed me reproachfully.