No Room in the Ark

-Alan Moorhead's book, reads as a nostalgic view of Africa. While not a continuous narrative - each chapter makes up an individual essay or article, previously serialised in New Yorker and Sunday Times - they all speak the same language. Published in 1959, but written from 1957 to 1959 it is described as a portrait of Africa in the 1950s - so many of the now independent countries of Africa were still European colonies. Most high level managers and other positions of authority were filled by Europeans.

Perhaps Moorhead's thoughts were somewhat ahead of his time, or perhaps he was just in a position to articulate the thoughts of others - as he speaks of the ivory trade, the wanton hunting of wild animals and the pressures on the environment. He describes it a period when man and the wild animals held an uneasy truce. The widespread ownership of high powered guns had not yet devastated the animal stocks. Yet, we don't get pained by Moorhead, he outlines situations and speculates lightly, but doesn't preach.

Essays follow a topic or a journey, sometimes repeat journeys to one area. His story of visiting gorillas in the Congo (Belgian Congo at the time) was a standout (and apparently his most popular when published). Another covers a trip down the Nile from Uganda, South Sudan and Sudan. The balance are largely devoted to animals and traditional tribes, and it is here that be perhaps writes with the most passion. The multitudes of animals are too many to list accurately, the many types of antelopes & gazelle, hyena, warthogs, buffalo, wildebeast, ostrich, crocodiles, baboons and of course such crowd favourites as lions, leopards, elephants, rhino, hippopotami, giraffe, zebra. Not to mention the birds.

There were also a few less known animals that got mention, such as the serval and the hyrax.
A quote on the hyrax, P48: Talking about a night spent in a comfortable bungalow.

...It ought to be soothing, the log fire, the warm eiderdown on your bed, but I found I slept restlessly. The hyrax suddenly shatters the black darkness with its terrifying cry This animal is no bigger than a squirrel, but the noise it makes is that of a creaking door in a silent empty house. So jarring, so savage, so absolutely uncalled-for you can only imagine that some awful tragedy has taken place in the darkness.

...There is, I suppose, a certain fascination about the idea of pygmies, but nobody in Africa warned me of that it was like to meet them face to face. They smell like no other living creatures on earth, and it is not the sort of smell that can be politely ignored. Then too, it is not so much the smallness that impresses you: it is their shape and by no indulgence can this be called anything but repulsive, With their swollen stomachs, their spindly little legs, and their clutching hands, they remind you somewhat of the gnomes and gargoyles on mediaeval cathedrals in Europe. To be fair one has to admit that the pygmies are friendly and cheerful people, and that they have a reputation of being great hunters; they move like shadows through the jungle. But don't think I am curious about pygmies any more. If you have seen one you have seen them all.