Katootero

Excerpt from Men of the Trees -
In the Mahogany Forests of Kenya and Nigeria

By Richard St. Barbe Baker

(Original spelling, punctuation and grammar retained.)

From Chapter VII

Katootero and His Honeybird

…Honey takes the place of most sweets. This they collect from the hollow trees, of which a number are allotted to each family. No family would think of trespassing on another’s honey preserve. They prefer the honey in the comb, while the unhatched grubs at a certain stage of incubation are considered a great delicacy.

These forest folk live so close to nature that they make even the birds their allies. I have seen a honey bird lead a hunter to a hollow tree in which there is honey ready to be taken. It was fascinating to watch one of these little birds trying to get the attention of Katootero, the lad who used to hunt with me sometimes. We had been out for a hunt in the early morning and he was now resting, and I was taking this opportunity of discussing the prospect of an expedition that I was planning. Presently one of these tiny honey birds came up close to him and perched on the bough of a nearby tree, and started chirping noisily. He told me that this was one of his honey birds that was anxious to show him some hollow tree with honey for the taking.

To me it seemed perfectly ridiculous that this tiny bird should make such a fuss and be so insistent on Katootero following him. I later discovered that the honey birds know well to whom to go, for it is the unwritten law of the forest that each dweller has his own territory. Now that the honey bird had got the lad’s attention, it flitted from bough to bough in the direction of the hollow tree, returning every now and again and perching quite close to the lad as if to make quite sure that he was following.

On leaving camp Katootero had picked up a piece of burning wood and when next we encountered an old fallen tree that had rotted he collected several pieces of touch-wood and tied them round the smouldering stick with a small creeper cut from the forest. This delay seemed at first to agitate the little bird who made more fuss than ever. But once the hunter was ready again for the trail the honey bird flew on ahead. We did not have to go very far along the game track that we were following, for soon the little bird stopped and then flew into the denser part of the forest. About two hundred yards from the trail there was a clearing where a giant tree had fallen, thus letting in the sunlight through the canopy of the forest. To the north side of the clearing was a tall tree and looking upwards Katootero’s sharp eyes immediately spotted a small hole from which bees were flying. They must have been from ninety to a hundred feet up, and to this height the boll of the tree went up clean, without a branch. For my part, I could only just see the position of the hole and it was only when the light caught the wings of the bees, as they flashed in and out of the hollow, that they were obvious to me.

It looked as though it was impossible to climb this tall tree and I waited to see what Katootero would do. He was looking around, and at the same time, every now and again, blowing on the touch-wood to get it well alight. Another way he had of getting a good smoke going was to swing it backwards and forwards. Suddenly it seemed as though he had an inspiration. About twenty-five feet away from the big tree was a tall thin one which could be climbed. It was slender and whippy, and not more than twelve inches in diameter at breast height. Producing a long leather strap, or mukwa, Katootero rapidly climbed to the top, and when the tree started to sway with his weight, he swung it over in the direction if the big tree and seemed to be rapidly falling, but, with a quick motion, caught the main stem, held onto it, swung his mukwa around it and bound the two trees together.

He now mounted higher and presently reached a position just below the hole from which the bees were swarming. He next blew some smoke into the hollow, using the same means of subduing these insects as the modern beekeeper. The only difference being that he hadn’t bellows. He just puffed the smoke in with his breath. In a few minutes he plunged his hand into the hole and brought out a supply of honey in the comb, which he deposited in a leather bag swung from his shoulder. Having got as much as he wanted he cautiously climbed down to where he had tied the thinner tree and with great care released it. I held my breath when he kicked off from the big tree and slid down the slim one. It had been a remarkable performance, and I was glad that he came down without being damaged.