On the morning of the 17th, a circumstance occurred, which wrought a considerable change in my favour. The three trading Moors who had lodged under Karfa's protection, ever since their arrival at Kamalia, and had gained the esteem of all the Bushreens, by an appearance of great sanctity, suddenly packed up their effects, and, without once thanking Karfa for his kindness towards them, marched over the hills to Bala. Every one was astonished at this unexpected removal; but the affair was cleared up in the evening, by the arrival of the Fezzan merchant from Kancaba, (mentioned in p. 269;) who assured Karfa, that these Moors had borrowed all their salt and goods from him, and had sent for him to come to Kamalia, and receive payment. When he was told that they had fled to the westward, he wiped a tear from each eye with the sleeve of his cloak, and exclaimed, "These shirukas (robbers) are Mahomedans, but they are not men: they have robbed me of two hundred minkallies." From this merchant I received information of the capture of our Mediterranean convoy by the French, in October 1795.

April 19th. The long-wished-for day of our departure was at length arrived; and the Slatees having taken the irons from their slaves, assembled with them at the door of Karfa's house, where the bundles were all tied up, and every one had his load assigned him. The coffle, on its departure from Kamalia, consisted of twenty-seven slaves for sale, the property of Karfa and four other Slatees: but we were afterwards joined by five at Maraboo, and three at Bala: making in all thirty-five slaves. The free men were fourteen in number, but most of them had one or two wives and some domestic slaves; and the schoolmaster, who was now upon his return for Woradoo, the place of his nativity, took with him eight of his scholars, so that the number of free people and domestic slaves amounted to thirty-eight, and the whole amount of the coffle was seventy-three. Among the freemen were six Jilli keas, (singing men) whose musical talents were frequently exerted either to divert our fatigue, or obtain us a welcome from strangers. When we departed from Kamalia, we were followed for about half a mile by most of the inhabitants of the town, some of them crying, and others shaking hands with their relations, who were now about to leave them; and when we had gained a piece of rising ground, from which we had a view of Kamalia, all the people belonging to the coffle were ordered to sit down in one place, with their faces towards the west, and the townspeople were desired to sit down in another place, with their faces towards Kamalia. In this situation, the schoolmaster, with two of the principal Slatees, having taken their places between the two parties, pronounced a long and solemn prayer; after which, they walked three times round the coffle, making an impression on the ground with the ends of their spears, and muttering something by way of charm. When this ceremony was ended, all the people belonging to the coffle sprang up, and without taking a formal farewell of their friends, set forward. As many of the slaves had remained for years in irons, the sudden exertion of walking quick, with heavy loads upon their heads, occasioned spasmodic contractions of their legs; and we had not proceeded above a mile, before it was found necessary to take two of them from the rope, and allow them to walk more slowly until we reached Maraboo, a walled village, where some people were waiting to join the coffle. Here we stopt about two hours, to allow the strangers time to pack up their provisions, and then continued our route to Bala, which town we reached about four in the afternoon. The inhabitants of Bala, at this season of the year, subsist chiefly on fish, which they take in great plenty from the streams in the neighbourhood. We remained here until the afternoon of the next day, the 20th, when we proceeded to Worumbang, the frontier village of Manding towards Jallonkadoo. As we proposed shortly to enter the Jallonka Wilderness, the people of this village furnished us with great plenty of provisions; and on the morning of the 21st, we entered the woods to the westward of Worumbang. After having travelled some little way, a consultation was held, whether we should continue our route through the Wilderness, or save one day's provisions by going to Kinytakooro, a town in Jallonkadoo. After debating the matter for some time, it was agreed that we should take the road for Kinytakooro; but as that town was a long day's journey distant, it was necessary to take some refreshment. Accordingly, every person opened his provision bag, and brought a handful or two of meal, to the place where Karfa and the Slatees were sitting. When every one had brought his quota, and the whole was properly arranged in small gourd shells, the schoolmaster offered up a short prayer, the substance of which was, that God and the holy Prophet might preserve us from robbers and all bad people, that our provisions might never fail us, nor our limbs become fatigued. This ceremony being ended, every one partook of the meal, and drank a little water, after which we set forward, (rather running than walking) until we came to the river Kokoro, a branch of the Senegal, where we halted about ten minutes. The banks' of this river are very high; and from the grass and brushwood which had been left by the stream, it was evident that at this place the water had risen more than twenty feet perpendicular, during the rainy season. At this time it was only a small stream, such as would turn a mill, swarming with fish; and on account of the number of crocodiles, and the danger of being carried past the ford by the force of the stream in the rainy season, it is called Kokoro, (dangerous.) From this place we continued to travel with the greatest expedition, and in the afternoon crossed two small branches of the Kokoro. About sunset we came in sight of Kinytakooro, a considerable town, nearly square, situate in the middle of a large and well cultivated plain: before we entered the town we halted, until the people who had fallen behind came up. During this day's travel, two slaves, a woman and a girl, belonging to a Slatee of Bala, were so much fatigued, that they could not keep up with the coffle; they were severely whipped, and dragged along until about three o'clock in the afternoon, when they were both affected with vomiting, by which it was discovered that they had eaten clay. This practice is by no means uncommon amongst the Negroes; but whether it arises from a vitiated appetite, or from a settled intention to destroy themselves, I cannot affirm. They were permitted to lie down in the woods, and three people remained with them until they had rested themselves; but they did not arrive at the town until past midnight; and were then so much exhausted, that the Slatee gave up all thoughts of taking them across the woods in their present condition, and determined to return with them to Bala, and wait for another opportunity.

As this was the first town beyond the limits of Manding, greater etiquette than usual was observed. Every person was ordered to keep in his proper station, and we marched towards the town in a sort of procession nearly as follows. In front five or six singing men, all of them belonging to the coffle; these were followed by the other free people; then came the slaves fastened in the usual way by a rope round their necks, four of them to a rope, and a man with a spear between each four; after them came the domestic slaves, and in the rear the women of free condition, wives of the Slatees, &c. In this manner we proceeded, until we came within a hundred yards of the gate, when the singing men began a loud song, well calculated to flatter the vanity of the inhabitants, by extolling their known hospitality to strangers, and their particular friendship for the Mandingoes. When we entered the town we proceeded to the Bentang, where the people gathered round us to hear our dentegi, (history;) this was related publicly by two of the singing men; they enumerated every little circumstance which had happened to the coffle; beginning with the events of the present day, and relating every thing, in a backward series, until they reached Kamalia. When this history was ended, the master of the town gave them a small present, and all the people of the coffle, both free and enslaved, were invited by some person or other, and accommodated with lodging and provisions for the night.



CHAPTER XXV.

The coffle crosses the Jallonka Wilderness.—Miserable fate of one of the female slaves.—Arrives at Sooseeta.—Proceeds to Manna.—Some account of the Jallonkas.—Crosses the main stream of the Senegal.—Bridge of a singular construction.—Arrives at Malacotta.—Remarkable conduct of the King of the Jalofs.

We continued at Kinytakooro until noon of the 22d of April, when we removed to a village about seven miles to the westward, the inhabitants of which being apprehensive of hostilities from the Foulahs of Fooladoo, were at this time employed in constructing small temporary huts among the rocks, on the side of a high hill close to the village. The situation was almost impregnable, being everywhere surrounded with high precipices, except on the eastern side, where the natives had left a pathway sufficient to allow one person at a time to ascend. Upon the brow of the hill, immediately over this path, I observed several heaps of large loose stones, which the people told me were intended to be thrown down upon the Foulahs, if they should attempt the hill.

At daybreak on the 23d, we departed from this village, and entered the Jallonka Wilderness. We passed, in the course of the morning, the ruins of two small towns, which had lately been burnt by the Foulahs. The fire must have been very intense; for I observed that the walls of many of the huts were slightly vitrified, and appeared at a distance as if covered with a red varnish. About ten o'clock we came to the river Wonda, which is somewhat larger than the river Kokoro; but the stream was at this time rather muddy, which Karfa assured me was occasioned by amazing shoals of fish. They were indeed seen in all directions, and in such abundance, that I fancied the water itself tasted and smelt fishy. As soon as we had crossed the river, Karfa gave orders that all the people of the coffle should in future keep close together, and travel in their proper station; the guides and young men were accordingly placed in the van, the women and slaves in the centre, and the freemen in the rear. In this order, we travelled with uncommon expedition through a woody, but beautiful country, interspersed with a pleasing variety of hill and dale, and abounding with partridges, guinea-fowls, and deer, until sunset, when we arrived at a most romantic stream called Co-meissang. My arms and neck having been exposed during the whole day, and irritated by the rubbing of my dress in walking, were now very much inflamed and covered with blisters; and I was happy to embrace the opportunity, while the coffle rested on the bank of this river, to bathe myself in the stream. This practice, together with the cool of the evening, much diminished the inflammation. About three miles to the westward of the Co-meissang we halted in a thick wood, and kindled our fires for the night. We were all, by this time, very much fatigued, having, as I judged, travelled this day thirty miles; but no person was heard to complain. Whilst supper was preparing, Karfa made one of the slaves break some branches from the trees for my bed. When we had finished our supper of kouskous, moistened with some boiling water, and put the slaves in irons, we all lay down to sleep; but we were frequently disturbed in the night by the howling of wild beasts; and we found the small brown ants very troublesome.

April 24th. Before daybreak the Bushreens said their morning prayers, and most of the free people drank a little moening, (a sort of gruel,) part of which was likewise given to such of the slaves as appeared least able to sustain the fatigues of the day. One of Karfa's female slaves was very sulky, and when some gruel was to offered her, she refused to drink it. As soon as day dawned we set out, and travelled the whole morning over a wild and rocky country, by which my feet were very much bruised; and I was sadly apprehensive that I should not be able to keep up with the coffle during the day; but I was in a great measure relieved from this anxiety, when I observed that others were more exhausted than myself. In particular, the woman slave, who had refused victuals in the morning, began now to lag behind, and complain dreadfully of pains in her legs. Her load was taken from her, and given to another slave, and she was ordered to keep in the front of the coffle. About eleven o'clock, as we were resting by a small rivulet, some of the people discovered a hive of bees in a hollow tree, and they were proceeding to obtain the honey, when the largest swarm I ever beheld flew out, and attacking the people of the coffle, made us fly in all directions. I took the alarm first, and I believe was the only person who escaped with impunity. When our enemies thought fit to desist from pursuing us, and every person was employed in picking out the stings he had received, it was discovered that the poor woman above mentioned, whose name was Nealee, was not come up; and as many of the slaves in their retreat had left their bundles behind them, it became necessary for some persons to return, and bring them. In order to do this with safety, fire was set to the grass, a considerable way to the eastward of the hive, and the wind driving the fire furiously along, the party pushed through the smoke, and recovered the bundles. They likewise brought with them poor Nealee, whom they found lying in the rivulet. She was very much exhausted, and had crept to the stream in hopes to defend herself from the bees by throwing water over her body, but this proved ineffectual; for she was stung in the most dreadful manner.

When the Slatees had picked out the stings as far as they could, she was washed with water, and then rubbed with bruised leaves; but the wretched woman obstinately refused to proceed any farther; declaring that she would rather die than walk another step. As entreaties and threats were used in vain, the whip was at length applied; and after bearing patiently a few strokes, she started up and walked with tolerable expedition for four or five hours longer, when she made an attempt to run away from the coffle, but was so very weak, that she fell down in the grass. Though she was unable to rise, the whip was a second time applied, but without effect; upon which Karfa desired two of the Slatees to place her upon the ass which carried our dry provisions; but she could not sit erect; and the ass being very refractory, it was found impossible to carry her forward in that manner. The Slatees, however, were unwilling to abandon her, the day's journey being nearly ended; they therefore made a sort of litter of bamboo canes, upon which she was placed, and tied on it with slips of bark: this litter was carried upon the heads of two slaves, one walking before the other, and they were followed by two others, who relieved them occasionally. In this manner the woman was carried forward until it was dark, when we reached a stream of water, at the foot of a high hill called Gankaran-Kooro; and here we stopt for the night and set about preparing our supper. As we had ate only one handful of meal since the preceding night, and travelled all day in a hot sun, many of the slaves, who had loads upon their heads, were very much fatigued: and some of them snapt their fingers, which among the Negroes is a sure sign of desperation. The Slatees immediately put them all in irons; and such of them as had evinced signs of great despondency were kept apart from the rest, and had their hands tied. In the morning they were found greatly recovered.

April 25th. At daybreak poor Nealee was awakened, but her limbs were now so stiff and painful, that she could neither walk nor stand; she was therefore lifted, like a corpse, upon the back of the ass, and the Slatees endeavoured to secure her in that situation, by fastening her hands together under the ass's neck and her feet under the belly, with long slips of bark; but the ass was so very unruly, that no sort of treatment could induce him to proceed with his load; and as Nealee made no exertion to prevent herself from falling, she was quickly thrown off, and had one of her legs much bruised. Every attempt to carry her forward being thus found ineffectual, the general cry of the coffle was, kang-tegi, kang-tegi, "cut her throat, cut her throat;" an operation I did not wish to see performed, and therefore marched onwards with the foremost of the coffle. I had not walked above a mile, when one of Karfa's domestic slaves came up to me, with poor Nealee's garment upon the end of his bow, and exclaimed, Nealee affeeleeta, (Nealee is lost.) I asked him whether the Slatees had given him the garment as a reward for cutting her throat; he replied, that Karfa and the schoolmaster would not consent to that measure, but had left her on the road, where undoubtedly she soon perished, and was probably devoured by wild beasts.

The sad fate of this wretched woman, notwithstanding the outcry before mentioned, made a strong impression on the minds of the whole coffle, and the schoolmaster fasted the whole of the ensuing day, in consequence of it. We proceeded in deep silence, and soon afterward crossed the river Furkoomah, which was about as large as the river Wonda. We now travelled with great expedition, every one being apprehensive he might otherwise meet with the fate of poor Nealee. It was, however, with great difficulty that I could keep up, although I threw away my spear, and every thing that could in the least obstruct me. About noon we saw a large herd of elephants, but they suffered us to pass unmolested, and in the evening we halted near a thicket of bamboo, but found no water; so that we were forced to proceed four miles farther, to a small stream, where we stopt for the night. We had marched this day, as I judged, about twenty-six miles.

April 26th. This morning two of the schoolmaster's pupils complained much of pains in their legs, and one of the slaves walked lame, the soles of his feet being very much blistered and inflamed; we proceeded, notwithstanding, and about eleven o'clock began to ascend a rocky hill called Boki-Kooro, and it was past two in the afternoon before we reached the level ground on the other side. This was the most rocky road we had yet encountered, and it hurt our feet much. In a short time we arrived at a pretty large river called Boki, which we forded: it ran smooth and clear, over a bed of whinstone. About a mile to the westward of the river, we came to a road which leads to the north-east towards Gadou, and seeing the marks of many horses' feet upon the soft sand, the Slatees conjectured that a party of plunderers had lately rode that way, to fall upon some town of Gadou; and lest they should discover, upon their return, that we had passed, and attempt to pursue us by the marks of our feet, the coffle was ordered to disperse, and travel in a loose manner through the high grass and bushes. A little before it was dark, having crossed the ridge of hills to the westward of the river Boki, we came to a well called culleng qui, (white sand well,) and here we rested for the night.

April 27th. We departed from the well early in the morning, and walked on with the greatest alacrity, in hopes of reaching a town before night. The road, during the forenoon, led through extensive thickets of dry bamboos. About two o'clock we came to a stream called Nunkolo, where we were each of us regaled with a handful of meal, which, according to a superstitious custom, was not to be eaten until it was first moistened with water from this stream. About four o'clock we reached Sooseeta, a small Jallonka village, situated in the district of Kullo, which comprehends all that tract of country lying along the banks of the Black river, or main branch of the Senegal. These were the first human habitations we had seen since we left the village to the westward of Kinytakooro; having travelled in the course of the last five days upwards of one hundred miles. Here, after a great deal of entreaty, we were provided with huts to sleep in; but the master of the village plainly told us that he could not give us any provisions, as there had lately been a great scarcity in this part of the country. He assured us, that before they had gathered in their present crops, the whole inhabitants of Kullo had been for twenty-nine days without tasting corn; during which time, they supported themselves entirely upon the yellow powder which is found in the pods of the nitta, so called by the natives, a species of mimosa; and upon the seeds of the bamboo cane, which, when properly pounded and dressed, taste very much like rice. As our dry provisions were not yet exhausted, a considerable quantity of kouskous was dressed for supper, and many of the villagers were invited to take part of the repast; but they made a very bad return for this kindness; for in the night they seized upon one of the schoolmaster's boys, who had fallen asleep under the Bentang tree, and carried him away. The boy fortunately awoke before he was far from the village, and setting up a loud scream, the man who carried him put his hand upon his mouth, and ran with him into the woods; but afterwards understanding that he belonged to the schoolmaster, whose place of residence is only three days' journey distant, he thought, I suppose, that he could not retain him as a slave without the schoolmaster's knowledge; and therefore stripped off the boy's clothes, and permitted him to return.

April 28th. Early in the morning we departed from Sooseeta, and about ten o'clock, came to an unwalled town called Manna, the inhabitants of which were employed in collecting the fruit of the nitta trees, which are very numerous in this neighbourhood. The pods are long and narrow, and contain a few black seeds enveloped in the fine mealy powder before mentioned, the meal itself is of a bright yellow colour, resembling the flour of sulphur, and has a sweet mucilaginous taste; when eaten by itself it is clammy, but when mixed with milk or water, it constitutes a very pleasant and nourishing article of diet.

The language of the people of Manna is the same that is spoken all over that extensive and hilly country called Jallonkadoo. Some of the words have great affinity to the Mandingo, but the natives themselves consider it as a distinct language. Their numerals are these:—

One Kidding. Two Fidding. Three Sarra. Four Nani. Five Soolo. Six Seni. Seven Soolo ma fidding. Eight Soolo ma sarra. Nine Soolo ma nani. Ten Nuff.

The Jallonkas, like the Mandingoes, are governed by a number of petty chiefs, who are in a great measure independent of each other: they have no common sovereign; and the chiefs are seldom upon such terms of friendship as to assist each other even in war time. The chief of Manna, with a number of his people, accompanied us to the banks of the Bafing, or Black river, (a principal branch of the Senegal,) which we crossed upon a bridge of bamboos of a very singular construction. The river at this place is smooth and deep, and has very little current. Two tall trees, when tied together by the tops, are sufficiently long to reach from one side to the other; the roots resting upon the rocks, and the tops floating in the water. When a few trees have been placed in this direction, they are covered with dry bamboos, so as to form a floating bridge, with a sloping gangway at each end, where the trees rest upon the rocks. This bridge is carried away every year by the swelling of the river in the rainy season, and is constantly rebuilt by the inhabitants of Manna, who, on that account, expect a small tribute from every passenger.

In the afternoon we passed several villages, at none of which could we procure a lodging; and in the twilight we received information that two hundred Jallonkas had assembled near a town called Melo, with a view to plunder the coffle. This induced us to alter our course, and we travelled with great secrecy until midnight, when we approached a town called Koba. Before we entered the town, the names of all the people belonging to the coffle were called over, and a freeman and three slaves were found to be missing. Every person immediately concluded that the slaves had murdered the freeman, and made their escape. It was therefore agreed that six people should go back as far as the last village, and endeavour to find his body, or collect some information concerning the slaves. In the meantime the coffle was ordered to lie concealed in a cotton field near a large nitta tree, and nobody to speak except in a whisper. It was towards morning before the six men returned, having heard nothing of the man or the slaves. As none of us had tasted victuals for the last twenty-four hours, it was agreed that we should go into Koba, and endeavour to procure some provisions. We accordingly entered the town before it was quite day, and Karfa purchased from the chief man, for three strings of beads, a considerable quantity of ground nuts, which we roasted and ate for breakfast; we were afterwards provided with huts, and rested here for the day.

About eleven o'clock, to our great joy and surprise, the freeman and slaves, who had parted from the coffle the preceding night, entered the town. One of the slaves, it seems, had hurt his foot, and the night being very dark, they soon lost sight of the coffle. The freeman, as soon as he found himself alone with the slaves, was aware of his own danger, and insisted on putting them in irons. The slaves were at first rather unwilling to submit, but when he threatened to stab them one by one with his spear, they made no further resistance; and he remained with them among the bushes until morning, when he let them out of irons, and came to the town in hopes of hearing which route the coffle had taken. The information that we received concerning the Jallonkas, who intended to rob the coffle, was this day confirmed, and we were forced to remain here until the afternoon of the 30th; when Karfa hired a number of people to protect us, and we proceeded to a village called Tinkingtang. Departing from this village on the day following, we crossed a high ridge of mountains to the west of the Black river, and travelled over a rough stony country until sunset, when we arrived at Lingicotta, a small village in the district of Woradoo. Here we shook out the last handful of meal from our dry provision bags; this being the second day (since we crossed the Black river) that we had travelled from morning until night, without tasting one morsel of food.

May 2d. We departed from Lingicotta; but the slaves being very much fatigued, we halted for the night at a village about nine miles to the westward, and procured some provisions through the interest of the schoolmaster; who now sent forward a messenger to Malacotta, his native town, to inform his friends of his arrival in the country, and to desire them to provide the necessary quantity of victuals to entertain the coffle for two or three days.

May 3d. We set out for Malacotta, and about noon arrived at a village, near a considerable stream of water which flows to the westward; here we determined to stop for the return of the messenger which had been sent to Malacotta the day before; and as the natives assured me there were no crocodiles in this stream, I went and bathed myself. Very few people here can swim; for they came in numbers to dissuade me from venturing into a pool, where they said the water would come over my head. About two o'clock the messenger returned from Malacotta; and the schoolmaster's elder brother being impatient to see him, came along with the messenger to meet him at this village. The interview between the two brothers, who had not seen each other for nine years, was very natural and affecting. They fell upon each other's neck, and it was some time before either of them could speak. At length, when the schoolmaster had a little recovered himself, he took his brother by the hand, and turning round, "This is the man" (said he, pointing to Karfa) "who has been my father in Manding; I would have pointed him out sooner to you, but my heart was too full."

We reached Malacotta in the evening, where we were well received. This is an unwalled town; the huts for the most part are made of split cane, twisted into a sort of wicker-work, and plastered over with mud. Here we remained three days, and were each day presented with a bullock from the schoolmaster; we were likewise well entertained by the townspeople, who appear to be very active and industrious. They make very good soap, by boiling ground nuts in water, and then adding a ley of wood ashes. They likewise manufacture excellent iron: which they carry to Bondou to barter for salt. A party of the townspeople had lately returned from a trading expedition of this kind, and brought information concerning a war between Almami Abdulkader, King of Foota Torra, and Damel, King of the Jaloffs. The events of this war soon became a favourite subject with the singing men, and the common topic of conversation in all the kingdoms bordering upon the Senegal and Gambia; and as the account is somewhat singular, I shall here abridge it for the reader's information. The King of Foota Torra, inflamed with a zeal for propagating his religion, had sent an embassy to Damel, similar to that which he had sent to Kasson, as related in page 67. The ambassador, on the present occasion, was accompanied by two of the principal Bushreens, who carried each a large knife, fixed on the top of a long pole. As soon as he had procured admission into the presence of Damel, and announced the pleasure of his sovereign, he ordered the Bushreens to present the emblems of his mission. The two knives were accordingly laid before Damel, and the ambassador explained himself as follows:—"With this knife (said he) Abdulkader will condescend to shave the head of Damel, if Damel will embrace the Mahomedan faith: and with this other knife, Abdulkader will cut the throat of Damel, if Damel refuses to embrace it:—take your choice." Damel coolly told the ambassador that he had no choice to make; he neither chose to have his head shaved, nor his throat cut; and with this answer the ambassador was civilly dismissed. Abdulkader took his measures accordingly, and with a powerful army invaded Damel's country. The inhabitants of the towns and villages filled up their wells, destroyed their provisions, carried off their effects, and abandoned their dwellings, as he approached. By this means he was led on from place to place, until he had advanced three days' journey into the country of the Jaloffs. He had, indeed, met with no opposition; but his army had suffered so much from the scarcity of water, that several of his men had died by the way. This induced him to direct his march towards a watering place in the woods, where his men, having quenched their thirst, and being overcome with fatigue, lay down carelessly to sleep among the bushes. In this situation they were attacked by Damel before daybreak, and completely routed. Many of them were trampled to death as they lay asleep by the Jaloff horses; others were killed in attempting to make their escape; and a still greater number were taken prisoners. Among the latter was Abdulkader himself. This ambitious or rather frantic prince, who but a month before had sent the threatening message to Damel, was now himself led into his presence a miserable captive. The behaviour of Damel on this occasion is never mentioned by the singing men but in terms of the highest approbation; and it was indeed so extraordinary in an African prince, that the reader may find it difficult to give credit to the recital. When his royal prisoner was brought before him in irons, and thrown upon the ground, the magnanimous Damel, instead of setting his foot upon his neck, and stabbing him with his spear, according to custom in such cases, addressed him as follows:—"Abdulkader, answer me this question: If the chance of war had placed me in your situation, and you in mine, how would you have treated me?"—"I would have thrust my spear into your heart," returned Abdulkader with great firmness; "and I know that a similar fate awaits me."—"Not so, (said Damel,) my spear is indeed red with the blood of your subjects killed in battle, and I could now give it a deeper stain by dipping it in your own; but this would not build up my towns, nor bring to life the thousands who fell in the woods. I will not therefore kill you in cold blood, but I will retain you as my slave, until I perceive that your presence in your own kingdom will be no longer dangerous to your neighbours; and then I will consider of the proper way of disposing of you." Abdulkader was accordingly retained, and worked as a slave for three months; at the end of which period, Damel listened to the solicitations of the inhabitants of Foota Torra, and restored to them their king. Strange as this story may appear, I have no doubt of the truth of it: it was told me at Malacotta by the Negroes; it was afterwards related to me by the Europeans on the Gambia; by some of the French at Goree; and confirmed by nine slaves who were taken prisoners along with Abdulkader, by the watering place in the woods, and carried in the same ship with me to the West Indies.



CHAPTER XXVI.

The caravan proceeds to Konkadoo, and crosses the Faleme River.—Its arrival at Baniserile, Kirwani, and Tambacunda.—Incidents on the road.—A matrimonial case.—The caravan proceeds through many towns and villages, and arrives at length on the banks of the Gambia.—Passes through Medina, the capital of Wolli, and finally stops at Jindey.—The Author, accompanied by Karfa, proceeds to Pisania.—Various occurrences previous to his departure from Africa.—Takes his passage in an American ship.—Short account of his voyage to Great Britain by way of the West Indies.

On the 7th of May, we departed from Malacotta, and having crossed the Ba lee, "Honey river," a branch of the Senegal, we arrived in the evening at a walled town called Bintingala, where we rested two days. From thence, in one day more, we proceeded to Dindikoo, a small town situated at the bottom of a high ridge of hills, from which this district is named Konkadoo, "the country of mountains." These hills are very productive of gold. I was shown a small quantity of this metal, which had been lately collected: the grains were about the usual size, but much flatter than those of Manding, and were found in white quartz, which had been broken to pieces by hammers. At this town I met with a Negro, whose hair and skin were of a dull white colour. He was of that sort which are called in the Spanish West Indies Albinos, or white Negroes. The skin is cadaverous and unsightly, and the natives considered this complexion (I believe truly) as the effect of disease.

May 11th. At daybreak we departed from Dindikoo, and after a toilsome day's travel, arrived in the evening at Satadoo, the capital of a district of the same name. This town was formerly of considerable extent; but many families had left it in consequence of the predatory incursions of the Foulahs of Foota Jalla, who made it a practice to come secretly through the woods, and carry off people from the corn fields, and even from the wells near the town. In the afternoon of the 12th, we crossed the Faleme river, the same which I had formerly crossed at Bondou in my journey eastward. This river, at this season of the year, is easily forded at this place, the stream being only about two feet deep. The water is very pure, and flows rapidly over a bed of sand and gravel. We lodged for the night at a small village called Medina, the sole property of a Mandingo merchant, who, by a long intercourse with Europeans, has been induced to adopt some of their customs. His victuals were served up in pewter dishes, and even his houses were built after the fashion of the English houses on the Gambia.

May 13th. In the morning, as we were preparing to depart, a coffle of slaves, belonging to some Serawoolli traders, crossed the river, and agreed to proceed with us to Baniserile, the capital of Dentila; a very long day's journey from this place. We accordingly set out together, and travelled with great expedition through the woods until noon; when one of the Serawoolli slaves dropt the load from his head, for which he was smartly whipped. The load was replaced; but he had not proceeded above a mile before he let it fall a second time, for which he received the same punishment. After this he travelled in great pain until about two o'clock, when we stopt to breathe a little, by a pool of water, the day being remarkably hot. The poor slave was now so completely exhausted that his master was obliged to release him from the rope, for he lay motionless on the ground. A Serawoolli therefore undertook to remain with him, and endeavour to bring him to the town during the cool of the night; in the meanwhile we continued our route, and after a very hard day's travel, arrived at Baniserile late in the evening.

One of our Slatees was a native of this place, from which he had been absent three years. This man invited me to go with him to his house; at the gate of which his friends met him with many expressions of joy; shaking hands with him, embracing him, and singing and dancing before him. As soon as he had seated himself upon a mat by the threshold of his door, a young woman (his intended bride) brought a little water in a calabash, and kneeling down before him, desired him to wash his hands; when he had done this, the girl with a tear of joy sparkling in her eyes, drank the water; this being considered the greatest proof she could give him of her fidelity and attachment. About eight o'clock the same evening, the Serawoolli, who had been left in the woods to take care of the fatigued slave, returned and told us that he was dead; the general opinion, however, was that he himself had killed him, or left him to perish on the road; for the Serawoollies are said to be infinitely more cruel in their treatment of slaves than the Mandingoes. We remained at Baniserile two days, in order to purchase native iron, shea-butter, and some other articles for sale on the Gambia; and here the Slatee who had invited me to his house, and who possessed three slaves, part of the coffle, having obtained information that the price on the Coast was very low, determined to separate from us, and remain with his slaves where he was, until an opportunity should offer of disposing of them to advantage; giving us to understand that he should complete his nuptials with the young woman before mentioned, in the meantime.

May 16th. We departed from Baniserile, and travelled through thick woods until noon, when we saw at a distance the town of Julifunda, but did not approach it; as we proposed to rest for the night at a large town called Kirwani, which we reached about four o'clock in the afternoon. This town stands in a valley, and the country for more than a mile round it is cleared of wood and well cultivated. The inhabitants appear to be very active and industrious, and seem to have carried the system of agriculture to some degree of perfection; for they collect the dung of their cattle into large heaps during the dry season, for the purpose of manuring their land with it at the proper time. I saw nothing like this in any other part of Africa. Near the town are several smelting furnaces, from which the natives obtain very good iron. They afterwards hammer the metal into small bars, about a foot in length and two inches in breadth, one of which bars is sufficient to make two Mandingo corn hoes. On the morning after our arrival, we were visited by a Slatee of this place, who informed Karfa, that among some slaves he had lately purchased, was a native of Foota Jalla; and as that country was at no great distance, he could not safely employ him in the labours of the field, lest he should effect his escape. The Slatee was therefore desirous of exchanging this slave for one of Karfa's, and offered some cloth and shea-butter, to induce Karfa to comply with the proposal, which was accepted. The Slatee thereupon sent a boy to order the slave in question to bring him a few ground nuts. The poor creature soon afterwards entered the court in which we were sitting, having no suspicion of what was negociating, until the master caused the gate to be shut, and told him to sit down. The slave now saw his danger, and perceiving the gate to be shut upon him, threw down the nuts, and jumped over the fence. He was immediately pursued and overtaken by the Slatees, who brought him back, and secured him in irons, after which one of Karfa's slaves was released and delivered in exchange. The unfortunate captive was at first very much dejected, but in the course of a few days his melancholy gradually subsided; and he became at length as cheerful as any of his companions.

Departing from Kirwani on the morning of the 20th, we entered the Tenda Wilderness of two day's journey. The woods were very thick, and the country shelved towards the south-west. About ten o'clock we met a coffle of twenty-six people, and seven loaded asses, returning from the Gambia. Most of the men were armed with muskets, and had broad belts of scarlet cloth over their shoulders, and European hats upon their heads. They informed us that there was very little demand for slaves on the Coast, as no vessel had arrived for some months past. On hearing this, the Serawoollies, who had travelled with us from the Faleme river, separated themselves and their slaves from the coffle. They had not, they said, the means of maintaining their slaves in Gambia until a vessel should arrive, and were unwilling to sell them to disadvantage; they therefore departed to the northward for Kajaaga. We continued our route through the Wilderness, and travelled all day through a rugged country, covered with extensive thickets of bamboo. At sunset, to our great joy, we arrived at a pool of water near a large tabba tree, whence the place is called Tabba-gee, and here we rested a few hours. The water at this season of the year is by no means plentiful in these woods; and as the days were insufferably hot, Karfa proposed to travel in the night. Accordingly, about eleven o'clock, the slaves were taken out of their irons, and the people of the coffle received orders to keep close together, as well to prevent the slaves from attempting to escape, as on account of the wild beasts. We travelled with great alacrity until daybreak, when it was discovered that a free woman had parted from the coffle in the night; her name was called until the woods resounded, but no answer being given, we conjectured that she had either mistaken the road, or that a lion had seized her unperceived. At length it was agreed that four people should go back a few miles to a small rivulet, where some of the coffle had stopt to drink, as we passed it in the night, and that the coffle should wait for their return. The sun was about an hour high before the people came back with the woman, whom they found lying fast asleep by the stream. We now resumed our journey, and about eleven o'clock reached a walled town called Tambacunda, where we were well received. Here we remained four days, on account of a palaver which was held on the following occasion. Modi Lemina, one of the Slatees belonging to the coffle, had formerly married a woman of this town, who had borne him two children; he afterwards went to Manding, and remained there eight years, without sending any account of himself, during all that time, to his deserted wife; who, seeing no prospect of his return, at the end of three years had married another man, to whom she had likewise borne two children. Lemina now claimed his wife, but the second husband refused to deliver her up; insisting that by the laws of Africa, when a man has been three years absent from his wife, without giving her notice of his being alive, the woman is at liberty to marry again. After all the circumstances had been fully investigated in an assembly of the chief men, it was determined that the wife should make her choice, and be at liberty either to return to the first husband, or continue with the second, as she alone should think proper. Favourable as this determination was to the lady, she found it a difficult matter to make up her mind, and requested time for consideration; but I think I could perceive that first love would carry the day. Lemina was indeed somewhat older than his rival, but he was also much richer. What weight this circumstance had in the scale of his wife's affections, I pretend not to say.

On the morning of the 26th, as we departed from Tambacunda, Karfa observed to me that there were no shea-trees farther to the westward than this town. I had collected and brought with me from Manding the leaves and flowers of this tree, but they were so greatly bruised on the road that I thought it best to gather another specimen at this place. The appearance of the fruit evidently places the shea-tree in the natural order of Sapotae, and it has some resemblance to the mudhuca tree, described by Lieutenant Charles Hamilton, in the Asiatic Researches, Vol. I. page 300. About one o'clock we reached Sibikillin, a walled village, but the inhabitants having the character of inhospitality towards strangers, and of being much addicted to theft, we did not think proper to enter the gate. We rested a short time under a tree, and then continued our route until it was dark, when we halted for the night by a small stream running towards the Gambia. Next day the road led over a wild and rocky country, everywhere rising into hills, and abounding with monkeys and wild beasts. In the rivulets among the hills we found plenty of fish. This was a very hard day's journey, and it was not until sunset, that we reached the village of Koomboo, near to which are the ruins of a large town formerly destroyed by war. The inhabitants of Koomboo, like those of Sibikillin, have so bad a reputation, that strangers seldom lodge in the village; we accordingly rested for the night in the fields, where we erected temporary huts for our protection, there being great appearance of rain.

May 28th. We departed from Koomboo, and slept at a Foulah town about seven miles to the westward; from which, on the day following, having crossed a considerable branch of the Gambia, called Neola Koba, we reached a well inhabited part of the country. Here are several towns within sight of each other, collectively called Tenda, but each is distinguished also by its particular name. We lodged at one of them called Koba Tenda, where we remained the day following, in order to procure provisions for our support in crossing the Simbani woods. On the 30th we reached Jallacotta, a considerable town, but much infested by Foulah banditti, who come through the woods from Bondou, and steal every thing they can lay their hands on. A few days before our arrival, they had stolen twenty head of cattle, and on the day following made a second attempt, but were beaten off, and one of them taken prisoner. Here one of the slaves belonging to the coffle, who had travelled with great difficulty for the last three days, was found unable to proceed any farther; his master (a singing man) proposed therefore to exchange him for a young girl, belonging to one of the townspeople. The poor girl was ignorant of her fate, until the bundles were all tied up in the morning, and the coffle ready to depart, when coming with some other young women to see the coffle set out, her master took her by the hand, and delivered her to the singing man. Never was a face of serenity more suddenly changed into one of the deepest distress; the terror she manifested on having the load put upon her head, and the rope fastened round her neck, and the sorrow with which she bade adieu to her companions, were truly affecting. About nine o'clock, we crossed a large plain covered with ciboa trees, (a species of palm,) and came to the river Nerico, a branch of the Gambia. This was but a small river at this time, but in the rainy season it is often dangerous to travellers. As soon as we had crossed this river, the singing men began to vociferate a particular song, expressive of their joy at having got safe into the west country, or, as they expressed it, the land of the setting sun. The country was found to be very level, and the soil a mixture of clay and sand. In the afternoon it rained hard, and we had recourse to the common Negro umbrella, a large ciboa leaf, which being placed upon the head, completely defends the whole body from the rain. We lodged for the night under the shade of a large tabba tree, near the ruins of a village. On the morning following, we crossed a stream called Noulico, and about two o'clock, to my infinite joy, I saw myself once more on the banks of the Gambia, which at this place being deep and smooth, is navigable; but the people told me that a little lower down, the stream is so shallow that the coffles frequently cross it on foot. On the south side of the river, opposite to this place, is a large plain of clayey ground, called Toombi Toorila. It is a sort of morass, in which people are frequently lost, it being more than a day's journey across it. In the afternoon we met a man and two women, with bundles of cotton-cloth upon their heads. They were going, they said, for Dentila, to purchase iron, there being a great scarcity of that article on the Gambia. A little before it was dark, we arrived at a village in the kingdom of Woolli, called Seesukunda. Near this village there are great plenty of nitta-trees, and the slaves in passing along had collected large bunches of the fruit; but such was the superstition of the inhabitants, that they would not permit any of the fruit to be brought into the village. They had been told, they said, that some catastrophe would happen to the place when people lived upon nittas, and neglected to cultivate corn.

June 2d. We departed from Seesukunda, and passed a number of villages, at none of which was the coffle permitted to stop, although we were all very much fatigued: it was four o'clock in the afternoon before we reached Baraconda, where we rested one day. Departing from Baraconda on the morning of the 4th, we reached in a few hours Medina, the capital of the King of Woolli's dominions, from whom the reader way recollect I received an hospitable reception in the beginning of December 1795, in my journey east-ward.[25] I immediately inquired concerning the health of my good old benefactor, and learnt with great concern that he was dangerously ill. As Karfa would not allow the coffle to stop, I could not present my respects to the king in person; but I sent him word, by the officer to whom we paid customs, that his prayers for my safety had not been unavailing. We continued our route until sunset, when we lodged at a small village a little to the westward of Koota-kunda, and on the day following arrived at Jindey; where, eighteen months before I had parted from my friend Dr. Laidley; an interval during which I had not beheld the face of a Christian, nor once heard the delightful sound of my native language.

[25] Vide pages 51 [Second half of chapter IV. Transcriber], 72 [Beginning of chapter VII. Transcriber.].

Being now arrived within a short distance of Pisania, from whence my journey originally commenced, and learning that my friend Karfa was not likely to meet with an immediate opportunity of selling his slaves on the Gambia, it occurred to me to suggest to him that he would find it for his interest to leave them at Jindey, until a market should offer. Karfa agreed with me in this opinion; and hired from the chief man of the town, huts for their accomodation, and a piece of land on which to employ them, in raising corn, and other provisions for their maintenance. With regard to myself, he declared that he would not quit me until my departure from Africa. We set out accordingly, Karfa, myself, and one of the Foulahs belonging to the coffle, early on the morning of the 9th; but although I was now approaching the end of my tedious and toilsome journey, and expected in another day to meet with countrymen and friends, I could not part, for the last time, with my unfortunate fellow-travellers—doomed, as I knew most of them to be, to a life of captivity and slavery in a foreign land—without great emotion. During a wearisome peregrination of more than five hundred British miles, exposed to the burning rays of a tropical sun, these poor slaves, amidst their own infinitely greater sufferings, would commiserate mine; and frequently of their own accord bring water to quench my thirst, and at night collect branches and leaves to prepare me a bed in the Wilderness. We parted with reciprocal expressions of regret and benediction. My good wishes and prayers were all I could bestow upon them; and it afforded me some consolation to be told that they were sensible I had no more to give.

My anxiety to get forward admitting of no delay on the road we reached Tendacunda in the evening, and were hospitably received at the house of an aged black female, called Seniora Camilla, a person who had resided many years at the English factory, and spoke our language. I was known to her before I had left the Gambia, at the outset of my journey; but my dress and figure were now so different from the usual appearance of an European, that she was very excusable in mistaking me for a Moor. When I told her my name and country, she surveyed me with great astonishment, and seemed unwilling to give credit to the testimony of her senses. She assured me that none of the traders on the Gambia ever expected to see me again; having been informed long ago, that the Moors of Ludamar had murdered me, as they had murdered Major Boughton. I inquired for my two attendants, Johnson and Demba, and learnt with great sorrow, that neither of them was returned. Karfa who had never before heard people converse in English, listened to us with great attention. Every thing he saw seemed wonderful. The furniture of the house, the chairs, &c. and particularly beds with curtains, were objects of his great admiration; and he asked me a thousand questions concerning the utility and necessity of different articles, to some of which I found it difficult to give satisfactory answers.

On the morning of the 10th, Mr. Robert Ainsley, having learnt that I was at Tendacunda, came to meet me, and politely offered me the use of his horse. He informed me that Dr. Laidley had removed all his property to a place called Kaye, a little farther down the river, and that he was then gone to Doomasansa with his vessel to purchase rice, but would return in a day or two. He therefore invited me to stay with him at Pisania until the Doctor's return. I accepted the invitation, and being accompanied by my friend Karfa, reached Pisania about ten o'clock. Mr. Ainsley's schooner was lying at anchor before the place. This was the most surprising object which Karfa had yet seen. He could not easily comprehend the use of the masts, sails, and rigging; nor did he conceive that it was possible, by any sort of contrivance, to make so large a body move forwards by the common force of the wind. The manner of fastening together the different planks which composed the vessel, and filling up the seams so as to exclude the water, was perfectly new to him; and I found that the schooner with her cable and anchor, kept Karfa in deep meditation the greater part of the day.

About noon, on the 12th, Dr. Laidley returned from Doomasansa, and received me with great joy and satisfaction, as one risen from the dead. Finding that the wearing apparel which I had left under his care was not sold nor sent to England, I lost no time in resuming the English dress, and disrobing my chin of its venerable incumbrance. Karfa surveyed me in my British apparel with great delight; but regretted exceedingly that I had taken off my beard; the loss of which, he said, had converted me from a man into a boy. Dr. Laidley readily undertook to discharge all the pecuniary engagements I had entered into since my departure from the Gambia, and took my draft upon the Association for the amount. My agreement with Karfa (as I have already related) was to pay him the value of one prime slave, for which I had given him my bill upon Dr. Laidley, before we departed from Kamalia: for, in case of my death on the road I was unwilling that my benefactor should be a loser. But this good creature had continued to manifest towards me so much kindness, that I thought I made him but an inadequate recompence, when I told him that he was now to receive double the sum I had originally promised; and Dr. Laidley assured him that he was ready to deliver the goods to that amount, whenever he thought proper to send for them. Karfa was overpowered by this unexpected token of my gratitude, and still more so, when he heard that I intended to send a handsome present to the good old schoolmaster Fankooma, at Malacotta. He promised to carry up the goods along with his own; and Dr. Laidley assured him that he would exert himself in assisting him to dispose of his slaves to the best advantage, the moment a slave vessel should arrive. These and other instances of attention and kindness shown him by Dr. Laidley were not lost upon Karfa. He would often say to me, "my journey has indeed been prosperous!" But, observing the improved state of our manufactures, and our manifest superiority in the arts of civilized life, he would sometimes appear pensive, and exclaim with an involuntary sigh, fato fing inta feng, "black men are nothing." At other times, he would ask me with great seriousness, what could possibly have induced me, who was no trader, to think of exploring so miserable a country as Africa? He meant by this to signify that, after what I must have witnessed in my own country, nothing in Africa could in his opinion deserve a moment's attention, I have preserved these little traits of character in this worthy Negro, not only from regard to the man, but also because they appear to me to demonstrate that he possessed a mind above his condition; and to such of my readers as love to contemplate human nature in all its varieties, and to trace its progress from rudeness to refinement, I hope the account I have given of this poor African will not be unacceptable.

No European vessel had arrived at Gambia for many months previous to my return from the interior; and as the rainy season was now setting in, I persuaded Karfa to return to his people at Jindey. He parted with me on the 14th with great tenderness; but as I had little hopes of being able to quit Africa for the remainder of the year, I told him, as the fact was, that I expected to see him again before my departure. In this, however, I was luckily disappointed; and my narrative now hastens to its conclusion; for on the 15th, the ship Charlestown, an American vessel, commanded by Mr. Charles Harris, entered the river. She came for slaves, intending to touch at Goree to fill up; and to proceed from thence to South Carolina. As the European merchants on the Gambia had at this time a great many slaves on hand, they agreed with the captain to purchase the whole of his cargo, consisting chiefly of rum and tobacco, and deliver him slaves to the amount, in the course of two days. This afforded me such an opportunity of returning (though by a circuitous route) to my native country, as I thought was not to be neglected. I therefore immediately engaged my passage in this vessel for America; and having taken leave of Dr. Laidley, to whose kindness I was so largely indebted, and my other friends on the river, I embarked at Kaye on the 17th day of June.

Our passage down the river was tedious and fatiguing; and the weather was so hot, moist, and unhealthy, that before our arrival at Goree, four of the seamen, the surgeon, and three of the slaves, had died of fevers. At Goree we were detained for want of provisions, until the beginning of October.

The number of slaves received on board this vessel, both on the Gambia and at Goree, was one hundred and thirty; of whom about twenty-five had been, I suppose, of free condition in Africa, as most of them, being Bushreens, could write a little Arabic. Nine of them had become captives in the religious war between Abdulkader and Damel, mentioned in the latter part of the preceding chapter; two of the others had seen me as I passed through Bondou, and many of them had heard of me in the interior countries. My conversation with them, in their native language, gave them great comfort; and as the surgeon was dead, I consented to act in a medical capacity in his room for the remainder of the voyage. They had in truth need of every consolation in my power to bestow; not that I observed any wanton acts of cruelty practised either by the master or the seamen towards them; but the mode of confining and securing Negroes in the American slave ships, (owing chiefly to the weakness of their crews,) being abundantly more rigid and severe than in British vessels employed in the same traffic, made these poor creatures to suffer greatly, and a general sickness prevailed amongst them. Besides the three who died on the Gambia, and six or eight while we remained at Goree, eleven perished at sea, and many of the survivors were reduced to a very weak and emaciated condition.

In the midst of these distresses, the vessel, after having been three weeks at sea, became so extremely leaky, as to require constant exertion at the pumps. It was found necessary, therefore, to take some of the ablest of the Negro men out of irons, and employ them in this labour; in which they were often worked beyond their strength. This produced a complication, of miseries not easily to be described. We were, however, relieved much sooner than I expected; for the leak continuing to gain upon us, notwithstanding our utmost exertions to clear the vessel, the seamen insisted on bearing away for the West Indies, as affording the only chance of saving our lives. Accordingly, after some objections on the part of the master, we directed our course for Antigua, and fortunately made that island in about thirty-five days after our departure from Goree. Yet even at this juncture we narrowly escaped destruction; for on approaching the north-west side of the island, we struck on the Diamond Rock, and got into St John's harbour with great difficulty. The vessel was afterwards condemned as unfit for sea, and the slaves, as I have heard, were ordered to be sold for the benefit of the owners.

At this island I remained ten days; when the Chesterfield Packet, homeward bound from the Leeward Islands, touching at St John's for the Antigua mail, I took my passage in that vessel. We sailed on the 24th of November; and after a short but tempestuous voyage, arrived at Falmouth on the 22d of December; from whence I immediately set out for London; having been absent from England two years and seven months.

[Here terminates Mr. Park's own narrative. The following chapters contain an account of his life from his return to England, in 1797, to his death on the Niger, in 1805; and also of the discoveries and adventures of succeeding travellers.]



CHAPTER XXVII.

Attempts of Horneman, Nicholls, Roentgen, and Adams.

During the interval which elapsed between Park's first and second journey, several attempts were made to explore Central Africa. The first traveller was Frederick Horneman, a student of Gottingen, who was recommended by Professor Blumenbach to the patronage of the African Association. After spending some time in the study of Natural History, and the Arabic language, he went to Cairo, intending to join some caravan, under the assumed character of an Arab or Moslem. It was not till the following year, 1798, that he was enabled to find a caravan proceeding westward, and bound for Fezzan. On the 8th September, they left Egypt, entering upon a wide expanse of sandy desert, resembling what might be supposed to be the bed of the ocean after the waters had left it. It was covered with fragments of petrified wood, of a lightish grey colour and bearing a strong resemblance to natural wood. The Arabs travelled all day, and when they halted at night, each gathered a few sticks and prepared his own victuals. There were a few oases in this waste. In ten days they came to Ummesogeir, a village containing one hundred and twenty inhabitants, who lived on a rock, subsisting on dates, and separated by immense tracts of sand from all intercourse with the rest of the world. In twenty-four hours they came to Siwah, an extensive oasis, about fifty miles in circumference, and the only inhabited spot of any considerable extent on the route to Fezzan. Here there were found some curious remains of antiquity; among the rest a monument, called by the natives Ummebeda, a large mass of dilapidated ruins, which some suppose to have been the celebrated shrine of Jupiter Ammon. Thence they travelled through sandy regions, diversified with numerous limestone rocks. Here Horneman was in considerable danger; for the caravan was met by several hundred inhabitants of Siwah, mounted on asses, who pointed to him and insisted that he and another of the caravan were Christians from Cairo, against whom they cherished a deadly enmity. But Horneman's coolness and courage disarmed their hostility; he insisted that he was a Moslem, took out the Koran and read passages from it aloud, and even challenged them to answer him on points of the Mahommedan faith.

Soon after the travellers entered the Black Harutsch, a range of dreary mountains, the long defiles of which presented the most dismal prospect imaginable. After sixteen days toilsome journeying they came to the great Oasis, or small Kingdom of Fezzan. The inhabitants were a commercial people, and received the caravan with joy. Much communication is held between this place and Central Africa. Here Horneman endeavoured to collect information concerning Tombuctoo and the Niger. He resolved to visit Tripoli before endeavouring to penetrate to the south. He set off on his journey southward on the 6th April 1800, along with two shereefs or descendants of Mahomed, who had promised to protect him. Two years elapsed before any more was heard of him; when a Fezzan merchant informed the Danish Consul at Tripoli, that he was still alive. He was afterwards reported to have resided in Kashna, about 1803. Major Denham heard that he had penetrated as far as Nyffe on the Niger, where he fell a victim to the climate.

The next traveller sent out to Africa was Mr. Nicholls, who resolved to land at Calabar, in the Gulf of Benin, and thence to proceed into the interior. He landed on the coast in January 1805, but speedily fell a victim to the fever of the country.

Roentgen, a German, endeavoured to reach the interior by the way of Morocco. He spoke Arabic fluently, assumed the Mahomedan garb, and entertained high hopes of success. Having procured two guides, he joined the Soudan caravan; but, a little distance from the spot whence he set out, his corpse was found lying on the road.

Soon after, some information concerning Tombuctoo was derived from Adams, an American sailor, who was wrecked upon the coast, and who reported that he had been carried captive to that city by the Moors, and had remained there six months. His description of this famous place ill corresponded with the ideas which Europeans entertained of its splendour; the most spacious of the houses being merely huts, one storey in height, composed of timber frame-works filled with earth; and many of the inhabitants sheltering themselves under hovels, consisting of branches of trees, covered with mats of the palmetto. The palace was merely a collection of such apartments enclosed by a mud wall. The inhabitants were of a gay and thoughtless disposition, spending much of their time in dancing. The chief traffic of the place was in slaves.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

From Park's return, to his Second Expedition.

Park's own narrative of his travels will now have informed the reader of all that wonderful train of events which the hardy and enterprising discoverer went through: of his captivity among the Moors—his escape—his discovery of the course of the Niger—of the African capital of Sego—his journey through Bambarra, and his toilsome and perilous return. On his arrival at Pisania, his kind and attentive friend Dr. Laidley was absent, but a countryman, Mr. Robert Ainslie, invited him to his house. In two days Dr. Laidley returned, and hailed Park with joy, receiving him as "one risen from the dead." As no European vessel was at that time expected to arrive at Gambia, Park embarked on the 15th June 1797, on board a slave-ship bound to America. This vessel was driven by stress of wind to the West Indies, and at length, after much difficulty, succeeded in making the island of Antigua; whence Park sailed on the 24th November, in the Chesterfield Packet, which, after a short but stormy passage, reached Falmouth on the 22d December. No intelligence had for a long time reached England of the wanderer's fate, and his bones were supposed to have been bleaching amid the sands of the desert.

Park arrived at London, before day-break, on the morning of the 25th; and, unwilling to disturb his brother-in-law's family at such an unseasonable hour, he wandered about for some time through the streets near Mr. Dickson's residence. As he strolled along, finding one of the entrances to the gardens of the British Museum accidentally left open, he entered and walked about there for some time. It chanced that Mr. Dickson, who superintended the gardens, had found occasion to go there thus early about some trifling matter or other. What must have been his astonishment at beholding, by the still weak light, the form—or as it had rather seemed—the vision, of that relative, who had ever been in his most anxious thoughts, and whose countenance he had never expected again to see, or even to learn tidings of his fate. A joyful welcome of course ensued, and Park's anxieties concerning his relations, were speedily set at rest.

The interest attached to his return was by no means confined to his relations and friends—the public at large, whose sympathies had followed the traveller on his arduous way, were gratified to learn that he had again returned, after having made important discoveries, and tracked a considerable portion of the course of the Niger. Rumours were also current of his "hair-breadth 'scapes," and the lovers of novelty and adventure were anxious to hear the particulars of his wanderings. The African Association triumphed in the success of his mission, and were proud that the assiduous diligence of Park had, under such unfavourable circumstances, collected a mass of information which so far outweighed the results of all previous expeditions, and that they could therefore claim justly more support from the public. They gave a substantial proof of their gratitude to Park, by permitting him to publish his travels for his own benefit; and a complete narrative of his journey from his own pen was speedily announced to be in preparation. An abstract, drawn up by Mr. Bryan Edwards, from Park's Notes, was printed for private circulation among the members of the Association in the meantime; it was also enriched by a valuable Memoir by Major Rennel, on African Geography. This publication afterwards formed the ground-work of the larger work, to the quarto edition of which Major Kennel's narrative was also appended.

During the remainder of that winter Park resided in London, arranging the materials of his work; he also required to be in constant communication with the members of the Association, while the memoirs we have alluded to were being drawn up. His engaging and unassuming manners gained him the friendship of Mr. Edwards, to whose country residence at Southampton he paid frequent visits. Repeated offers were made to him by Government, who then wished to procure a complete survey of New Holland; but this scene of action did not seem to present sufficient attractions to Park, for he declined it.

In June 1798, Park went to Scotland, and visited his relations at Fowlshiels, where he remained the whole of the ensuing summer and autumn. Great must have been the joy of his relatives, when he, who had been mourned for as dead, was again an inmate of their house. The fame which he had earned in other quarters by his daring heroism, must have been poor in value, compared with the admiration and interest with which his tales were listened to beneath the domestic roof; and the expressions of wonder which his adventures had extorted from strangers, must to his mind have seemed tame and heartless, when he beheld the astonishment and breathless interest depicted on the countenances, and glistening in the eyes of the family circle. All this time he was employed upon his travels, busying himself with his manuscripts almost the whole day, and only indulging himself in the evenings with a solitary walk. The work was difficult, and untried authorship he found almost as arduous as his journeyings. He was unaccustomed to writing; his notes were imperfect and scanty, so that he had frequently to draw upon memory; care, and correction, and retrenchment were necessary to render his work worthy of the interest which his adventures had excited; and he knew that it would be carefully sifted by each of the two contending parties, who were on the watch for information concerning the great controverted question of the slave-trade, so that the utmost nicety and exactness were requisite in stating the facts respecting it, which had fallen under his notice. The long-expected work at length appeared in April 1799, in quarto, and met with the greatest popularity. It was sought after with avidity, both on account of the novelty and importance of the information comprised in it, and the interesting manner in which the narrative was conducted. Two large impressions were soon disposed of, and numerous smaller editions and abridgments were from time to time called for. In a literary point of view, the book is of rare merit; the style is clear, simple and direct; and though the writer's personal adventures form the main topic, there is no trace of ostentation or egotism. It bears all the marks of fidelity and truthfulness, and has obtained the highest commendations from every judge capable of forming an estimate of it.

The circumstance of a portion of Mr. Edwards' Narrative having been incorporated into the Travels, and of Park's having acknowledged, in the Preface, his obligations to that gentleman's revision, gave rise to an unfounded report of his being the real author of the volume. This rumour, however, has been long since rejected, both from the letters of Park, published after Mr. Edwards' death, and also from the internal evidence of the style, which presents a remarkable contrast to the elaborate and ornate composition of Mr. Edwards' works.

There is another subject connected with the publication of his Travels, which has excited too much discussion to permit us to pass it over in silence; viz. his statements concerning the slave-trade. It has been supposed, without any adequate ground, that Park's sentiments were unfavourable to its abolition; but the strictly impartial nature and neutral tone of his statements on this subject, were sufficiently proved by the fact, that both parties confidently appealed to his pages, as supporting their particular views. Besides, there is at least one passage in the work which implies, that Park looked upon this iniquitous traffic with no favourable eye; though he might not be convinced, upon the whole, that the proper period had arrived for doing it away. And in justice to his memory, it ought to be stated, that his nearest relatives and most intimate friends had often heard him express himself strongly against the system. All that the most scrutinizing reader can infer from these passages, merely amounts to this, that some of the abolitionists, in their generous zeal, might possibly have overrated the immediate good effect which the discontinuance of the practice would produce. Moreover, it was no part of Park's business to enter upon a political or commercial discussion on this subject, for his object was to give a clear and simple account of his own observations, not to discuss other men's theories; and both delicacy and propriety concurred in rendering such a course proper, since Mr. Bryan Edwards, and some other members of the African Association; to whose kind attention and patronage he owed so much, were decided supporters of the slave-trade.

After the publication of his work, he at first seemed resolved to retire into domestic and professional life; There had been an attachment of long standing between him and a daughter of Mr. Anderson, with, whom he had served his apprenticeship. The marriage had been settled the preceding summer, and was only postponed till the publication of his Travels gave him leisure for enjoying the pleasures of connubial happiness. If, however, he had at any time formed the resolution of spending the remainder of his days at home, his mind soon changed; for soon after, we find him endeavouring, through various channels, to get his services accepted, either by the Association, or by Government. He had frequent communications with his steady friend, Sir Joseph Banks, upon this subject; and no opportunity of qualifying himself still farther for such an expedition was left unimproved. For two years he seemed not to have fixed upon any determinate course of life; sometimes considering the propriety of renting a form, and occasionally looking out for openings in the medical profession. In the meantime, the profits derived from his Travels secured him from want, and prevented him from proving burdensome to his family. Unknown to them, he seems to have been employing every means to get the master passion of his soul gratified; and he fondly trusted that it would be shortly in his power to add to the discoveries he had already made. He rejected a proposal made to him by Mr. Edwards, to superintend his property in the West Indies, evidently cherishing the hope of being again sent out by the African Association. About this time, the capture of Goree seemed to open a communication with Central Africa, and Park thought it a good opportunity for revisiting that country. He wrote a letter to Sir Joseph Banks, expressing a confident hope of success, provided the countenance of Government were obtained. His proposal was not at that time accepted; and in a letter to Sir Joseph, dated 31st July 1800, he thus writes,—"If such are the views of Government, I hope that my exertions, in some station or other, may be of use to my country. I have not yet found any situation in which I could practise to advantage as a surgeon; and unless some of my friends interest themselves in my behalf, I must wait patiently until the cloud that hangs over my future prospects is dispelled." Evidently he could not reconcile his taste either to farming, or to the dull and wearisome drudgery of a country surgeon's life; in fact, he seemed altogether discontented with his profession. But when he saw that his prospect of employment by the Association was by no means certain, and might be long deferred, he felt that, as an honest man, it was necessary to provide some certain means of support for a wife and family. In October 1801, an opening took place at Peebles, by the decease of one of the two regular practitioners in that town: he settled there, and soon acquired a practice which, if not particularly remunerating, was at least tolerably extensive. He was surrounded by a pastoral, and, in some places, uncultivated district; and had often to make long rides at night along bad roads, to afford aid to those whose poverty did not allow them to make any return for his skill and kindness. The rides of a country surgeon, near an unfrequented district, are dreary and long; "he is at the mercy of all who may demand his assistance within a circle of forty miles in diameter, untraversed by roads in many directions, and including moors, mountains, rivers, and lakes," generally for a very low recompense, and sometimes for none at all.

Sir Walter Scott has so well described a country surgeon's miseries, that we shall quote the passage, more especially as it bears particular reference to Park:—"Like the ghostly lover of Leonora, he mounts at midnight, and traverses in darkness paths which, to those less accustomed to them, seem formidable in daylight, through straits where the slightest aberration would plunge him into a morass, or throw him over a precipice, on to cabins which his horse might ride over without knowing they lay in his way, unless he happened to fall through the roofs. When he arrives at such a stately termination of his journey, where his services are required, either to bring a wretch into the world, or prevent one from leaving it, the scene of misery is often such, that, far from touching the hard saved shillings which are gratefully offered to him, he bestows his medicines as well as his attendance—for charity. I have heard the celebrated traveller Mungo Park, who had experienced both courses of life, rather give the preference to travelling as a discoverer in Africa, than to wandering, by night and day, the wilds of his native land in the capacity of a country medical practitioner. He mentioned having once upon a time rode forty miles, sat up all night, and successfully assisted a woman under influence of the primitive curse, for which his sole remuneration was a roasted potato and a draught of butter milk. But his was not the heart which grudged the labour that relieved human misery. In short, there is no creature in Scotland that works harder, and is more poorly requited than the country doctor, unless, perhaps, it may be his horse. Yet the horse is, and indeed must be, hardy, active, and indefatigable, ever liable to be unpleasantly interrupted, in spite of a rough coat and indifferent condition; and so you will often find in his master, under an unpromising and blunt exterior, professional skill and enthusiasm, intelligence humanity, courage, and science." Such was certainly the character of Park: having himself experienced what it was to suffer unrelieved, he was ready to sympathize with his suffering fellow-creatures, and to endure every hardship and privation when humanity called upon him to do so. But his liberality was a great enemy to his purse, and for a considerable time, all he could do was barely enough to earn a livelihood. Such difficulties every one, generally, who enters upon this arduous profession must lay his account with. His reputation as a discoverer, his modest and unassuming character, and the propriety of his conduct, however, gained Park many friends, some of whom were literary men of great eminence, such as Adam Ferguson and Dugald Stewart. In addition to the honour of attracting the notice of men so gifted in intellectual endowments, he was also on the best terms with many of the neighbouring gentry,—among others, with Sir Walter Scott, who had not then attained that high place among his contemporaries which he afterwards held. He had also formed many acquaintances in a humbler rank of life,—men of shrewdness and sagacity, in whose homely conversation Park felt much pleasure. He enrolled himself a member of a volunteer corps raised in the district, and proved a great acquisition to the mess-table. One thing was remarkable about Park, that, go where he would, he never introduced his own adventures, seldom ever answering queries concerning them, unless when asked by intimate friends. He shewed the true modesty of a brave man, in never reminding those around him that he had overcome great perils and distresses. Yet those who knew him best, describe him as always apparently cherishing a secret purpose in his bosom. His mind, in fact, seems never to have been diverted from its grand purpose; it was directed to the prospect of adding yet more claims to the notice of posterity: hence, he could neither bring himself down patiently to the ordinary routine of common-place life, nor take a great interest in the feelings and pursuits of the society with which he mingled. Often would his thoughts be wafted across the ocean to the burning deserts of Africa, and directed to the prospect of tracing out the windings of the mysterious Niger.

About this time, by the advice of Sir Joseph Banks, he became a candidate for the Botanical Chair at Edinburgh, vacant by the decease of Dr. Rutherford. In his efforts to obtain the appointment he failed. This circumstance probably hastened his determination of again setting out for Africa; and, in 1803, a favourable opportunity seemed to be afforded. He received a letter from the Colonial Office, requiring his immediate presence in London. He had an interview with Lord Hobart, then Colonial Secretary, who informed him that it was the intention of Government to organize an expedition for discovery in Africa, to be placed under his superintendence. This proposal was exactly what Park wished; the subject, in all its bearings, had been considered by him in almost hourly meditations; he resolved inwardly to accept the proposal, but asked a brief space to consult his family and friends. He returned immediately to Scotland, and again journeying to London, at once closed with the offer, and proceeded to make his preparations, expecting in a few weeks to set sail for Africa. But the usual delays of office took place, and the expedition was only announced to sail from Portsmouth about the end of February. Before that period arrived, the impatient traveller was mortified to find that the important political changes which were then in agitation would at least defer, if not altogether destroy his projects. This blow was the more severe, as the stores and troops had been already embarked.

Mr. Pitt was made First Commissioner of the Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer in May. When the commotion caused by this change had subsided a little, Government was able to direct its attention to subjects less immediately pressing, and among the rest, to African discovery. Park received an intimation from the Colonial Office, that the intention of sending out an expedition had by no means been lost sight of; and, in the meantime, he was advised to direct his particular attention to those branches of knowledge which might facilitate the undertaking, with the understanding that all necessary expenses would be defrayed. The earliest period at which he could possibly set out was September, and he determined diligently to improve the interval. He chiefly directed his attention to the method of taking astronomical observations, and to the study of the Arabic language. For the latter purpose, he engaged a native of Mogadore, Sidi Omback Boubi, who then resided in London, and had served as the interpreter to Elphi Bey, the Mameluke ambassador from Cairo, to accompany him to Scotland. Park and his oriental companion arrived at Peebles in March, and resided there till about the middle of May; he then removed to Fowlshiels, where he remained till the expected summons from the Secretary of State should reach him. Sidi Omback appeared quite a phenomenon to the inhabitants of Peebles. He was a firm adherent of the Mahometan faith, and scrupulous to an excess; observing rigidly the Prophet's prohibitions respecting wine and spirits, and eating no meat which had not been killed by his own hand. The method in which he performed this operation was somewhat peculiar:—having stalked solemnly into the market, and pitched upon his animal, he turned its head towards the east, muttered over it a short prayer, and then cut off its head, rejecting the blood as unclean. He had the greatest aversion to prints and paintings, and nearly stabbed a young man who was bold enough to take a sketch of his peculiar visage. He punctually performed his devotions according to the fashion of his own country, and professed to be a great interpreter of dreams and omens. In one instance, he proved a true prophet, for he said more than once, that if Park went a second time to Africa, he would never return; and though urgently requested by Park to join the expedition, he refused.

When Sir Walter Scott first became acquainted with Park, he was living in seclusion at the farm of Fowlshiels, nearly opposite Newark Castle. They soon became much attached to each other; and Scott supplied some interesting anecdotes of their brief intercourse to the late Mr. Wishaw, the editor of Park's posthumous Journal, with which, says Mr. Lockhart, I shall blend a few minor circumstances which I gathered from him in conversation long afterwards. "On one occasion," he says, "the traveller communicated to him some very remarkable adventures which had befallen him in Africa, but which he had not recorded in his book." On Scott's asking the cause of this silence, Mungo answered, "That in all cases where he had information to communicate which he thought of importance to the public, he had stated the facts boldly, leaving it to his readers to give such credit to his statements as they might appear justly to deserve; but that he would not shock their faith, or render his travels more marvellous, by introducing circumstances which, however true, were of little or no moment, as they related solely to his own personal adventures and escapes," This reply struck Scott as highly characteristic of the man; and though strongly tempted to set down some of these marvels for Mr. Wishaw's use, he, on reflection, abstained from doing so, holding it unfair to record what the adventurer had deliberately chosen to suppress in his own narrative. He confirms the account given by Park's biographer of his cold and reserved manners to strangers, and in particular, of his disgust with the indirect questions which curious visitors would often put to him upon the subject of his travels. "This practice," said Mungo, "exposes me to two risks,—either that I may not understand the questions meant to be put, or that my answers to them may be misconstrued;" and he contrasted such conduct with the frankness of Scott's revered friend, Dr. Adam Ferguson, who, the very first day the traveller dined with him at Hallyards, spread a large map of Africa on the table, and made him trace out his progress thereupon, inch by inch, questioning him minutely as to every step he had taken. "Here, however," says Scott, "Dr. F. was using a privilege to which he was well entitled by his venerable age and high literary character, but which could not have been exercised with propriety by any common stranger."

Calling one day at Fowlshiels, and not finding Park at home, Scott walked in search of him along the banks of the Yarrow, which in that neighbourhood passes over various ledges of rock, forming deep pools and eddies between them. Presently he discovered his friend standing alone on the bank, plunging one stone after another into the water, and watching anxiously the bubbles as they rose to the surface. "This," said Scott, "appears but an idle amusement for one who has seen so much stirring adventure." "Not so idle, perhaps, as you suppose," answered Mungo. "This was the manner in which I used to ascertain the depth of a river in Africa before I ventured to cross it, judging whether the attempt would be safe by the time the bubbles of air took to ascend." At this time, Park's intention of a second expedition had never been revealed to Scott, but he instantly formed the opinion that these experiments on Yarrow were connected with some such purpose.

His thoughts had always continued to be haunted with Africa. He told Scott, that whenever he awoke suddenly in the night, owing to a nervous disorder with which he was troubled, he fancied himself still a prisoner in the tent of Ali; but when the Poet expressed some surprise that he should design again to revisit those scenes, he answered, that he would rather brave Africa and all its horrors, than wear out his life in long and toilsome rides over the hills of Scotland, for which the remuneration was hardly enough to keep soul and body together.

Towards the end of autumn, when about to quit his country for the last time, Park paid Scott a farewell visit, and slept at Ashestiel. Next morning his host accompanied him homewards over the wild chain of hills between the Tweed and the Yarrow. Park talked much of the new scheme, and mentioned his determination to tell his family that he had some business for a day or two in Edinburgh, and send them his blessing from thence, without returning to take leave. He had married, not long before, a pretty, amiable woman; and when they reached the William Hope Ridge, "the autumnal mist floating heavily and slowly down the valley of the Yarrow," presented to Scott's imagination "a striking emblem of the troubled and uncertain prospect which his undertaking afforded." He remained, however, unshaken; and at length they reached the spot at which they had agreed to separate. A small ditch divided the moor from the road, and, in going over it, Park's horse stumbled, and nearly fell. "I am afraid, Mungo," said the Sheriff, "that is a bad omen." To which he answered, smiling, "Freits (omens) follow those who look to them." With this expression Mungo struck the spurs into his horse, and Scott never saw him again. His parting proverb, by the way, was probably suggested by one of the Border ballads, in which species of lore he was almost as great a proficient as the Sheriff himself; for we read in "Edom o' Gordon,"—"Them look to freits, my master dear. Then freits will follow them."[26]

[26] Lockhart's Life of Scott, Vol. II.

In the beginning of September, Park received the summons from the Colonial Office, and had a satisfactory interview with Lord Camden. He had previously, at Lord Camden's request, given in to him a memorial, comprising a statement of his views concerning the objects of the expedition, the means which he would require for his purpose, and the manner in which the plans of Government were to be carried into execution. The object of his journey. Park stated to be the extension of British commerce, and the enlargement of geographical knowledge; particular attention was to be paid to the state of the interior, the course of the Niger, and the character and situation of the towns upon its banks. The means Park requested were thirty European soldiers, six carpenters, fifteen or twenty Goree negroes, fifty asses, and six horses or mules. Each man was to be provided with gun, pistols, and suitable clothing. He gave in also a list of other articles which he required, comprising harness and equipments for the asses, carpenters tools, and cordage, with other stores, for building two boats of forty feet length, to sail down the Niger, and a number of articles of commerce to procure supplies from the natives, and for presents to their chiefs, such as coloured cloth, amber, gold, and glass beads, arms and ammunition, mirrors, knives, scissors, &c. Park's proposed route was to proceed up the Gambia, cross the country to the Niger, when they were to sail down the river till they came to its termination. If, as Park supposed, in place of being lost, according to Major Rennel's theory, in some imaginary lake called Margara, it took a southerly direction, and might prove to be the river Congo; it was his intention to embark on board some slave-ship, and return, either by the way of St. Helena or the West Indies. Major Rennel earnestly advised Park against the expedition, but without success, and indeed, upon the Major's theory, the plan was utterly impracticable. Some have censured Park for going on an expedition, which at the outset was pronounced to be hopeless; and these "prophets of evil" claimed abundant credit for their sagacity. But Park had made up his mind, and was not to be turned aside from his purpose. Fatally confident, as the event proved, in his own resources, he was not to be daunted by the formidable array of difficulties which he must have well known he would have to face; and though somewhat disheartened for a time by these representations, he was consoled by the approbation of Sir Joseph Banks, and other scientific men.

Orders were now given for the completion of the arrangements; but vexations and fatal delays again occurred, which contributed most materially to diminish the chances of the success of the expedition. It was now impossible that they could be landed in Africa before the rainy season had commenced; and it was only after three months impatient waiting that Park got these final instructions:—