"Downing Street, 2d January 1805.

"SIR,—It being judged expedient that a small expedition should be sent into the interior of Africa, with a view to discover and ascertain whether any, and what commercial intercourse can be opened therein, for the mutual benefit of the natives and of his Majesty's subjects, I am commanded by the King to acquaint you, that on account of the knowledge you have acquired of the nations of Africa, and from the indefatigable exertions and perseverance you displayed in your travels among them, his Majesty has selected you for conducting this undertaking.

"For the better enabling you to execute this service, his Majesty has granted you the brevet commission of a Captain in Africa, and has also granted a similar commission of Lieutenant to Mr. Alexander Anderson, whom you have recommended as a proper person to accompany you. Mr. Scott has also been selected to attend you as a draftsman. You are hereby empowered to enlist with you, for this expedition, any number you think proper of the garrison at Goree, not exceeding forty-five, which the Commandant of that island will be ordered to place under your command, giving them such bounties or encouragement as may be necessary to induce them cheerfully to join with you on the expedition.

"And you are hereby authorised to engage, by purchase or otherwise, such a number of black artificers at Goree as you shall judge necessary for the objects you have in view.

"You are to be conveyed to Goree in a transport, convoyed by his Majesty's sloop Eugenie, which will be directed to proceed with you, in the first instance, to St. Jago, in order that you may there purchase fifty asses for carrying your baggage.

"When you shall have prepared whatever may be necessary for securing the objects of your expedition at Goree, you are to proceed up the river Gambia, and thence crossing over to the Senegal, to march, by such route as you shall find most eligible, to the banks of the Niger.

"The great object of your journey will be to pursue the course of this river to the utmost possible distance to which it can be traced,—to establish communication and intercourse with the different nations on the banks,—to obtain all the local knowledge in your power respecting them,—and to ascertain the various points stated in the memoir which you delivered to me on the 4th of October last.

"And you will be then at liberty to pursue your route homewards by any line you shall think most secure, either by taking a new direction through the interior towards the Atlantic, or by marching upon Cairo, by taking the route leading to Tripoli.

"You are hereby empowered to draw for any sum that you may be in want of, not exceeding L5000, upon the Lords of his Majesty's Treasury, or upon such a mercantile banking-house in London as you may fix upon. I am, &c.

"(Signed) CAMDEN.

"To Mungo Park, Esq. &c. &c. &c."

Before Park departed, Government had generously resolved, that, in addition to a handsome reward for his own services, the sum of L4000 should be settled upon his wife and family, in the event of his death or non-appearance after a certain stipulated time. Nothing, therefore, remained but that he should finally settle his affairs, and take an affectionate farewell of his friends, who bade adieu to him with a heavy heart, fearing that they would never see his face again.



CHAPTER XXIX.

Park's Second Journey—The Gambia to Bambakoo.

On the 30th January 1805, Park, accompanied by Mr. Anderson, his brother-in-law, who was to be second in command of the expedition, and Mr. Scott, a friend and neighbour, who went as draftsman, together with four or five artificers from the dockyards, set sail from Portsmouth in the Crescent transport, and reached Port Prayo Bay in St. Jago on the 8th March, after a very stormy passage. Having purchased forty-four asses, they left this place on the 21st March, and having made the coast of Africa on the 25th, anchored in Goree Roads. From the garrison at this place Park had been instructed to select a limited party of soldiers—an arrangement which proved by no means favourable to the success of the expedition, as many of the men were of intemperate habits, and, through their long residence at Goree, most of them were much debilitated by the climate. Park fixed upon thirty-five, who seemed the strongest men of the garrison, to accompany him; and one of their officers, Lieutenant Martyn, also volunteered. Two experienced seamen, by permission of Captain Shortland of the Squirrel frigate, were also to go with him, as their assistance would prove most useful in equipping' the boats for sailing down the Niger. Before they left Goree, Park wrote the following letter to his wife:—

"Goree, 4th April 1805.

"I have just now learnt that an American ship sails from this place for England in a day or two, and I readily embrace the opportunity of sending a letter to my dear wife. We have all of us kept our health very well ever since our departure from England, Alexander had a touch of the rheumatism at St. Jago, but is now quite recovered. He danced several country dances at the ball last night. George Scott is also in good health and spirits. I wrote to you from St. Jago, which letter I hope you received. We left that place on the 21st of March, and arrived here with the asses on the 28th. Almost every soldier in the garrison volunteered to go with me; and, with the Governor's assistance, I have chosen a guard of the best men in the place. So lightly do the people here think of the danger attending the undertaking, that I have been under the necessity of refusing several military and naval officers who volunteered to accompany me. We shall sail for Gambia on Friday or Saturday, I am happy to learn that Karfa, my old friend, is at present at Jonkakonda; and I am in hopes we shall be able to hire him to go with us.

"We have as yet been extremely fortunate, and have got our business, both at St. Jago and this place, finished with great success; and I have hopes, almost to certainty, that Providence will so dispose the tempers and passions of the inhabitants of this quarter of the world, that we shall be enabled to slide through much more smoothly than you expect.

"I need not tell you how often I think about you; your own feelings will enable you to judge of that. The hopes of spending the remainder of my life with my wife and children, will make everything seem easy; and you may be sure I will not rashly risk my life, when I know that your happiness, and the welfare of my young ones, depend so much upon it. I hope my mother does not torment herself with unnecessary tears about me. I sometimes fancy how you and she will be meeting misfortune half-way, and placing me in many distressing situations. I have as yet experienced nothing but success, and I hope that six months more will end the whole as I wish.

"P.S.—We have taken a ride this morning about twelve miles into the country. Alexander is much pleased with it. The heat is moderate, and the country healthy at present."

In a letter to the Colonial Office, written at the same time as the above, he gives the following account of his departure from Goree:—"On the morning of the 6th of April, we embarked the soldiers, in number thirty-five men. They jumped into the boat in the highest spirits, and bade adieu to Goree with repeated huzzas. I believe that every man in the garrison would have embarked with great cheerfulness; but no inducement could prevail on a single negro to accompany me. I must therefore trust to the Gambia for interpreters, and I expect to be able to hire or purchase three or four in going up the river." On the 9th April they reached Jillifree on the Gambia, and in a few days got up the river to Kayee. Thence Park wrote several letters to his friends, among which was the following, addressed to his wife.—

"Kayee, River Gambia, 26th April 1805.

"I have been busy these three days in making preparations for our journey, and I feel rather uneasy when I think that I can receive no letters from you till I return to England; but you may depend on this, that I will avail myself of every opportunity of writing to you, though from the very nature of the undertaking these opportunities will be but few. We set off for the interior to-morrow morning, and I assure you, that whatever the issue of the present journey may be, every thing looks favourable. We have been successful thus far, beyond my highest expectations.

"The natives, instead of being frightened at us, look on us as their best friends, and the kings have not only granted us protection, but sent people to go before us. The soldiers are in the highest spirits, and as many of them (like me) have left a wife and family in England, they are happy to embrace this opportunity of returning. They never think about difficulties; and I am confident, if there was occasion for it, that they would defeat any number of negroes that might come against us; but of this we have not the most distant expectation. The king of Kataba (the most powerful king in Gambia) visited us on board the Crescent on the 20th and 21st; he has furnished us with a messenger to conduct us safely to the king of Wooli.

"I expect to have an opportunity of writing to you from Konkodoo or Bammakoo, by some of the slavetraders; but as they travel very slowly, I may probably have returned to the coast before any of my letters have reached Goree; at any rate, you need not be surprised if you should not hear from me for some months; nay, so uncertain is the communication between Africa and England, that perhaps the next news you may hear may be my arrival in the latter, which I still think will be in the month of December. If we have to go round by the West Indies, it will take us two months more; but as Government has given me an unlimited credit, if a vessel is coming direct, I shall of course take a passage in her. I have enjoyed excellent health, and have great hopes to bring this expedition to a happy conclusion. In five weeks from the date of this letter, the worst part of the journey will be over. Kiss all my dear children for me, and let them know that their father loves them."

In a letter of the same date, Park thus expresses himself with great confidence as to his prospects of success: "Every thing at present looks as favourable as I could wish, and if all things go well, this day six weeks I expect to drink all your healths in the water of the Niger. The soldiers are in good health and spirits. They are the most dashing men I ever saw; and if they preserve their health, we may keep ourselves perfectly secure from any hostile attempt on the part of the natives. I have little doubt but that I shall be able, with presents and fair words, to pass through the country to the Niger: and if once we are fairly afloat, the day is won. Give my kind regards to Sir Joseph and Mr. Greville; and if they should think I have paid too little attention to natural objects, you may mention that I had forty men and forty-two asses to look after, besides the constant trouble of packing and weighing bundles, palavering with the negroes, and laying plans for our future success. I never was so busy in my life."

His letter to his father-in-law apparently shews the same confidence in the prospects of the expedition:—

"Kayee, River Gambia, 26th April 1806.

"That I have not wrote you sooner, you may be sure was not from want of attention, but from want of time, and because I knew that you must have received every information respecting our procedure from Alexander. I know that you will rejoice to hear that we both of us keep our health, and that the kind hand of Providence has thus far made our journey prosperous. We set off to-morrow morning for the interior, with the most flattering prospect of finishing our expedition in the course of six months, with honour to ourselves, and benefit to mankind. I need not tell you how solicitous I am about the welfare of my dear Allie and children. Though I have no hopes of my hearing from her till my return to England, yet I will indulge the hope that all is well. In case it should please the Almighty to take me to himself, I have thought it necessary to give a statement of the money matters in the enclosed letter, that my dear wife and children may reap the reward of my industry. I did not do this from any second sight, but merely to guard against a possible occurrence. I am far from being in the least down-hearted: indeed I have so much to attend to, that I have little time to myself. I receive great benefit from Alexander, who is as systematic, cautious and careful as ever. I sometimes think he has forgot his old maxim 'Take it easy.' I can easily imagine how little Ibe[27] will be stotting about the house and garden. Tell her if she can say her questions[28] well, I will bring her two new frocks. My compliments to Mrs. Anderson, George, Thomas, and Bell. I suppose Andrew will be in the army by this time. When we return to the coast, if we are lucky enough to find a vessel coming directly to England, I think we may be in England by the month of December, but if we have to go round by the West Indies, it will take us two months longer. With best wishes for your health and prosperity, I am,

"Your affectionate friend,

"MUNGO PARK.

"To Mr. Thomas Anderson, Surgeon, Selkirk, North Britain."

[27] Elizabeth, his infant daughter.

[28] The Catechism.

In spite of all the confidence which these letters express, Park was so well aware of the extreme danger of the expedition that his mind must have been filled with the most harassing and anxious thoughts. We have already said, that the soldiers who accompanied him were below the ordinary standard even of African troops. Their constitutions were worn out by the climate, and by debauchery; and they seem to have been utter strangers to sobriety and good discipline. But Park had a still more serious cause of alarm arising from the repeated delays which had taken place before the expedition was sent out, which rendered it scarcely possible for them to reach the Niger before the rainy season set in. There was besides, the positive certainty of encountering the great tropical heats and tornadoes, which invariably precede and follow that time, and prove a source of the greatest inconvenience, and sometimes even of danger, to caravans. There were just two courses before him: he might go forward upon the journey at all hazards, straining every nerve to reach the Niger before the rainy season came on in full violence; or he might wait till the middle of November, the proper period for travelling. The latter alternative was one which his ardent spirit could ill brook; and even could he himself have submitted to this penance, the spending so many months in idleness and inactivity might excite the severe displeasure of his employers. He had no reason to suppose that they had calculated upon this great additional expense. He considered moreover that such a contingency had not been provided for in his instructions. The eyes of his countrymen anxiously watched his progress—delay might be visited with severe censures. Accordingly, he unhappily departed from the course which prudence would have pointed out, and adopted the alternative most agreeable to his own feelings. Having once formed his plan, he adhered to it with vigour and perseverance, resolutely facing every obstacle, and resolved to fulfil the object of his mission, or perish in the attempt. Whatever might be his own misgivings and apprehensions, he concealed them from his comrades, resolved that no disclosure of them should damp their confidence, or weaken their efforts.

At Kayee, Isaaco, a Mandingo priest and travelling merchant, who had had great experience in inland travelling, was engaged to accompany the expedition as guide. On the 27th April 1805 they left Kayee, under a salute from the guns of the Crescent. They suffered great inconvenience from the extreme heat of the weather, and the difficulty of bringing the asses forward, most of them having been unaccustomed to heavy burdens. On the evening of the following day they came to Pisania, Park's starting point on his first journey, where those of his former friends, who still resided there, were not a little astonished to see him again. He stayed at this place for a week to complete his preparations, part of the baggage having to arrive by water, and some of the beasts of burden, being useless, requiring to be replaced by others. The burdens having been equally divided among the party, and every thing ready, they set out from Pisania, accompanied for a mile or two by most of the principal inhabitants of the place, who were anxious to confer this honour upon the travellers. They set out in regular order of march: Mr. Scott and one of Isaaco's attendants in front, Lieutenant Martyn in the centre, and Mr. Anderson and Park bringing up the rear. But their progress was slow, for some of the asses were overloaded, and others were restive and threw off their burdens, so that they had soon to purchase an additional number. On the 10th May they arrived at Fatteconda, where the son of Park's friend, the former king of Wooli, met him, from whom he learnt that his journey was looked upon with great jealousy by some of the influential inhabitants residing about Madina. At noon, they reached the capital of Wooli. The asses were unloaded under a tree, without the gates of the town. It was five o'clock before Park obtained an audience of the king, to whom he carried as presents, a pair of silver-mounted pistols, ten dollars, some amber and coral; but his Majesty being covetous, and considering it beneath his dignity to receive so little, Park was obliged to add fifteen dollars more, and double the quantity of coral and amber. The king also begged a blanket to shield his royal person from the rains, which was sent to him. This was only a sample of the numerous extortions to which they were exposed; and as the natives annoyed them much, conceiving that they carried merchandise of great value, the utmost vigilance was necessary to guard against their sly pilferings, as well as the more violent attempts of the numerous bands of robbers who infested the neighbourhood. They reached Kanipe, a straggling village, on the 13th of May. Here the women had fallen upon an ingenious plan to extort amber and beads. After many hours labour, they had drawn up all the water from the wells and carried it away. They were fairly baffled, however, by the travellers; for in the evening, one of the soldiers having, as if by accident, dropped his canteen into the well, he was lowered down by a rope to pick it up; and standing at the bottom of the well, filled all the camp-kettles of the party, so that the women had to depart in grief and mortification.

After having passed through Kussai, the country was wooded for five miles, when the travellers reached a level plain almost destitute of shade, along which some hundreds of antelopes, of a dark colour, and nearly as large as bullocks, were bounding. At half-past ten they again came to the banks of the Gambia, and halted, during the heat of the day, under a large spreading tree. The river was here one hundred yards across, its waters swarming with crocodiles; and, contrary to Park's expectations, he found that it had a regular tide, rising four inches by the shore. Here Park ascended a hill, which commanded a wide prospect of the course of the Gambia, distinguished by a range of dark green trees, which fringed its banks. At this place the first disaster of the expedition occurred. John Walters, one of the soldiers, fell down in an epileptic fit, and soon after died. They lay down to rest, apprehensive of an attack from the natives, each man sleeping with his loaded musket under his head.

For some days they travelled on a line with the banks of the river; they then crossed the river Nerico, and on the 20th May, came to Bady, in the territory of Tenda. The chief of that place behaved with great audacity and violence; and some of his people having carried off the guide's horse, and Isaaco demanding it in person, he was seized, flogged, and detained as a prisoner. His disconsolate wife and child sat, in tears, under a tree. It would, indeed, have been an easy matter for Park and his companions to have set fire to the town in resentment for this ill usage, but this would have brought destruction on the innocent, and might not have produced the desired effect of the restoration of Isaaco. But they determined next morning, should other means prove ineffectual, to employ force. Early in the morning, however, Isaaco was sent back by the chief, with the lame apology that he had no desire to quarrel with Park, and merely wished the customary tribute to be paid him.

They went on, nearly along the same way by which Park had returned in 1797, and, having traversed the wilderness of Samarkara, came to a place which they called Bee's Creek, from a singular accident which befel them there. No sooner had they unsaddled their asses, and kindled a fire to cook their supper, than an immense swarm of bees attacked both men and asses so violently, that they took to flight precipitately in all directions; while the burning embers set fire to some bamboos, and nearly consumed the baggage. They, however, succeeded in snatching it up before the flames reached it; but by this untoward accident, they lost six asses and one horse, and most of the party were severely stung about the face and hands.

On the 28th May, Park came to Bamboo, where he was compelled to disburse presents to a large amount. Thence he sent two letters to England, by the way of Gambia,—one addressed to his wife, and the other to Sir Joseph Banks. To the former, he gave a brief account of his journey, and then adds, "You must not imagine, my dear friend, from this hasty sketch, that I have neglected astronomical observations. I have observed the latitude every two or three days, and have observed three eclipses of Jupiter's satellites, which settle the longitude, by the help of the watch, to the nearest mile. I find that my former journeys by foot were underrated; some of them surprise myself when I trace the same road on horseback. I expect to reach the Niger by the 27th of June."

He thus writes to Mrs. Park,—"I am happy to inform you that we are half through our journey without the smallest accident or unpleasant circumstance. We all of us keep our health, and are on the most friendly terms with the natives. I have seen many of my old acquaintances, and am everywhere well received. By the 27th of June, we expect to have finished all our travels by land; and when we have once got afloat on the river, we shall conclude that we are embarking for England. I have never had the smallest sickness, and Alexander (Mrs. Park's brother) is quite free from all his stomach complaints. In fact, we have only had a pleasant journey, and yet this is what we thought would be the worst part of it. I will indulge the hope that my wife, children, and all friends are well. I am in great hopes of finishing this journey with credit in a few months; and then with what joy shall I turn my face towards home!" From these extracts, it would seem that Park still entertained the prospect of ultimate success. His situation appeared difficult, but not desperate. He had now traversed what he believed would be the most arduous part of his route, with the loss of only one of his party; and hoped that, by dint of strenuous exertion, the greater part of the distance which lay between him and the Niger might possibly be gone over before the rainy season set in. But the sad realities of suffering and death were soon to break in on his dreams of success.

They had now arrived at Julifunda, the chief of which place extorted from Park goods to the value of two hundred bars, before he would suffer the party to proceed. The next day, being his Majesty's birthday, Park halted, pitched one of the tents, and purchased a bullock and a calf for the soldiers, who were drawn up in the afternoon, and fired a salute. They made this as much a day of festivity as circumstances would admit of, though they were under the necessity of drinking the king's health in water, in the absence of any more stimulating and genial fluid. At Baniserile, a Mahometan town, they met with a most hospitable reception from the chief man, Fodi Braheima, to whom Park presented a copy of the New Testament, in Arabic. On the 6th June, one of the carpenters, who had been sick of the dysentery ever since they had crossed the Nerico, became very ill. On the 7th the sick man was so ill that he had to be mounted on an ass, which was driven forward by two soldiers; next day he threw himself from the beast, and expressed a wish to be left alone to die, and could only be held on by force. About noon they arrived at Medina, and halted upon the banks of the Faleme, which the rain had discoloured, but little increased in volume. At this place it ran over rocks, at the rate of about four miles the hour. It abounded with fish of a great size. In the afternoon the soldiers were quite worn out with carrying the baggage across the river, and up the steep bank. The carpenter being in a dying state was left with the Dooty, to whom Park gave ten bars, and also directed a soldier to remain with him. Next morning the soldier came up to the party at Sadadoo, and told them that the carpenter had died during the night, and that he, with the assistance of some negroes, had buried him. On the 9th, five of the soldiers, who had not gone into the tent, but had remained during the rain under a tree, complained much of headache and sickness. During the night some of the canteens had been stolen. They left Sadadoo at sunrise, journeying over a hard rocky soil, towards the mountains, and the advanced party reached Shrondo at sunset; but Park did not come up to the place till eight o'clock, having mounted one of the sick men on his horse, and assisted in driving in the wearied asses, four of which he was compelled to leave in the woods. Here they were overtaken by a dreadful tornado, which drenched them completely: this proved to them indeed the "beginning of sorrows." Its dreadful effects were immediately manifested in the sickness of the soldiers, many of whom were, before the rain had fallen three minutes, seized with vomiting; while others fell asleep, and looked as if they had been half intoxicated. Next morning twelve of the party were sick. Before this Park had fondly hoped that he would reach the Niger, with a moderate loss; but now, for the first time, do we find stated in his journal, a feeling of distrust and apprehension: "The rain," he says, "had set in, and I trembled to think that we were only half way through, our journey." From that period the horrors of fatal disease were superadded to those of toilsome and dangerous journey. Many of the beasts of burden sank down or strayed, so that an additional load had to be put upon those that remained. The track was intersected by frequent torrents, and the sick had to be placed upon the horses and spare asses; those whose strength disease had not yet wasted, were worn out in endeavouring to urge on the staggering beasts. Their footsteps were tracked by plunderers, who watched every opportunity of pilfering. The sick soldiers would throw themselves at the foot of a tree, declaring that they were content to perish; even had they been suffered to remain, a quiet death could not have been expected, as the beasts of prey were prowling about, and their feverish rest at night was often broken by their distant howling. In the midst of all this complication of difficulties, it is impossible not to be struck with the nobleness of Park's conduct, facing boldly difficulties however arduous, and endearing himself to his men by the greatest attention and kindness,—himself enduring toil that they might have rest, lingering behind the party to help on some exhausted soldier, or mounting him upon his own horse, comforting the desponding, and in their last hour consoling and soothing the dying.

The party rested a day at Shrondo, but the distressing circumstances in which they were involved did not prevent Park from visiting the gold mines in the neighbourhood, and he gives in his journal a curious account of the method in which the gold is obtained. He was guided by a woman to a meadow where there were dug about thirty pits. Beside these lay heaps of sand and gravel, to be conveyed to circular wash-pits, which were lined with clay. Two calabashes are used, one large, into which the gravel is put; the other small, with which the water is poured in. The sand is then covered with the water, carefully crumbled down and shaken in the calabash, and the lighter parts thrown out, till all that remains is a black substance, called gold-rust. The shaking is then repeated, and the grains of gold are sought out. Two pounds of gravel yield about twenty-three particles of gold, some of which are very small; and the bulk of gold-rust is about forty times that of the gold. The washing only takes place at the time of the rains.

They next proceeded along the mountains of Konkodoo to Dindikoo, where they saw a number of gold-pits, sunk about twelve feet deep, with notches in the sides for steps. The mountains were lofty and steep, composed of a coarse species of red granite, but cultivated to the very tops, and the villages built in their glens were singularly romantic. "The inhabitants," says Park, "have plenty of water, and grass at all seasons; they have cattle enough for their own use, and their superfluous grain purchases all their little luxuries; and while the thunder rolls in awful grandeur over their heads, they can look from their tremendous precipices over all that wild and woody plain, which extends from the Faleme to the Black River." This plain was about forty miles in extent; the lions abounded in the plain, but none were seen among the hills. On the 18th they had great difficulty in getting the sick forward, though all the spare horses and asses were reserved for their use. The ass which bore the telescope and several other articles of consequence was missing; but was brought on the following day by one of the natives who had caught it.

Park now began to be "very uneasy about their situation;" half of the party were on the sick list, among whom were Messrs. Anderson and Scott, and he himself was by no means well. They rested for one day at Fankia. On the 15th their road lay along a steep and rocky pass in the mountains of Tambaura. During this toilsome march they were in a state of dreadful confusion. There were few drivers for the asses, which were overburdened with the sick and baggage. The natives, seeing their weak state, followed them, seizing every opportunity for pillage. At Serimanna, two of the men were left behind. At Gambia, the natives having heard that the white men were sickly, rose up in arms, and attempted to plunder the caravan. One seized the Serjeant's horse, but on a pistol being presented, quitted his hold. Others tried to drive away the asses with their loads. But the soldiers stood firm, loaded their pieces with ball, and fixed bayonets; upon which the natives hesitated, and the soldiers having placed the asses in safety on the other side of a rivulet, returned. Park then demanded of the Dooty that he should be suffered to proceed in peace. To this after a little he consented, in consequence of the determined front shown by the British, and to avoid farther molestation, Park deemed it prudent to present him with four bars of amber. Near Sullo, the eyes of the jaded and weary travellers were a little revived by the picturesqueness of the scenery, which presented all the possible diversities of rock, towering up like ruined castles, spires, and pyramids. One place bore a very striking resemblance to a ruined Gothic abbey,—the niches, windows, and staircase, having all counterparts in the natural rock. Mr. Park describes the banks of the Ba-Fing and Ba-Lee, two tributaries of the Senegal, to be rugged and grand beyond any thing he had seen.

In crossing the Ba-Fing the canoe was upset, with three men in it, one of whom was drowned. Park's efforts to restore animation were unavailing, and he was buried on the banks of the river. The people on the banks were a set of thieves, and endeavoured to make off with the medicine-chest. Not a day now passed but one or other of the soldiers died of fever, or was left behind. At Koeena, on the 2d July, they were much annoyed by three lions, which, after prowling about all day, at midnight attacked the asses, which broke their ropes, and rushed in among the tents. One of the lions approached so near that the sentry made a cut at it with his sword. They could not sleep, because of the noise of the hippopotami which infested that part of the river. At this time several of the soldiers strayed, and never came up with the party again, though muskets were frequently fired to give intimation of the route. Next day one of the soldiers became so exhausted that he could not sit upon the ass. He was fastened on it, and held upright; he became more and more faint, and shortly after died. His body was brought forward to a place where the front of the coffle had halted to allow the rear to come up. "Here," says Park, "when the coffle had set forwards, two of the soldiers with their bayonets, and myself with my sword, dug his grave in the wild desert, and a few branches were the only laurels that covered the tomb of the brave." When Park came up to the halting-place, which was near a pool of water, shaded with ground palm-trees, he found that two more of the soldiers were missing. Lights were set up, partly to scare away the lions and also to guide those who had not come up; and Park himself went back a considerable part of the way in search of them, but only one came up, who, next day, lagged behind through fatigue. Search was then made for him, but he could not be found; and they supposed that he had been devoured by the wild beasts.

On the 4th July they crossed the river Wonda; but as they had only one canoe, the passage was both dangerous and tedious. Isaaco, the guide, exerted himself much, endeavouring to drive six of the asses through a little below where the party crossed, as the stream was there not so deep. He had reached the middle of the river, when a crocodile rose, seized him by the left thigh, and dragged him under water. With wonderful presence of mind, however, he felt the head of the animal, and thrust his finger into its eye. The monster quitted its hold for a moment, but then seized his other thigh, and again pulled him under water. Isaaco again thrust his fingers into its eyes. This proved effectual. The crocodile rose to the surface, dashed about a while as if stupified, and then swam down the middle of the river. Isaaco landed on the other side, bleeding copiously. He was so much lacerated as for a time to be unfit for travelling; and as his guidance was indispensable to the party, they waited four days, to give his wounds time to heal.

On the 11th July they came to Keminoom, the strongest fortified town Park had seen in Africa,—whence they were very desirous to depart, as they found the inhabitants to be "thieves to a man," committing depredations upon the travellers with the greatest coolness and impudence, in which the King and his thirty sons formed accomplished models for the subjects to look up to. Here they were subjected to the most vexatious extortions, and a number of articles were stolen from the baggage. On the 14th they set out from this place, one of the king's sons on horseback with them as a protector; but had not got a gun-shot from the town, when a bag was stolen from one of the asses; Park and Martyn ran after the offender, and recovered the bag; but before they returned to the coffle, another had made off with a musket. About two miles from this town some of the asses fell down. Park rode forward to look out for an easier ascent. As he held his musket carelessly in his hand, two of the king's sons came up, one of whom begged Park to give him a pinch of snuff. Park turned round to assure him he had none; upon which the other stole behind him, snatched the musket from his hand, and ran off. Park sprang from his saddle with his sword drawn, and Mr. Anderson got within musket-shot of the thief, but was unwilling to fire on this scion of royalty. The thief escaped up the rocks, and when Park returned to his horse, he found that the other descendant of royalty had stolen his great-coat. Park complained to the king's son who accompanied them as guide; he told him that the best course would be for the people to fire upon the delinquents. The natives seeing their preparations hid themselves behind the rocks, and only occasionally peeped through the crevices. The sky became overcast with clouds, and before they were five miles from the town, a heavy tornado came on. During the rain, another of the royal family ran off with a musket and a pair of pistols, which a soldier had laid down while reloading his ass. As they halted for a little, the natives nearly drove off four of the asses. At length Park gave the soldiers directions to shoot every one who came near the baggage, and they cleared the difficult passes of the rocks by sunset, without sustaining any farther loss. During the 18th a great number of articles, and one of the asses, were stolen from the sick soldiers, who had scarcely strength to defend themselves; and one of the party not having come up, Park supposed, with too much probability, that he had been stripped and murdered. During that and the following day they had three tornados. So many of the beasts of burden had been stolen, that the men were obliged to carry part of the loads. Park himself put a knapsack on his back, and his horse had a heavy load of articles to bear.

They found great difficulty in crossing the banks of the Ba-Woolima, a narrow, rapid, and deep river, which was then much swollen by the rains, They first endeavoured to throw across trunks of trees, but these were carried away by the stream. They next attempted a raft; but after the logs had been cut, the sick people were not able to drag them to the water side. But the negroes who were with them constructed a bridge in the most ingenious manner. It was formed of two ranges of a number of upright forked sticks, of sufficient length. Across each of the ranges of forks were placed two trees tied together. These beams were then connected with cross sticks. To prevent this structure from being carried away by the current, two large trees, fastened together, were fixed to both banks, their roots being tied with ropes to the trees growing there; they were allowed to sink in the water, so that the current could not bear away the forks whose ends sloped down the stream, and the current itself kept in their places those whose roots slanted up the stream. Here another of the party died of fever.

On the 22d they came to Bangassi, a large fortified town; where the king gave them a bullock and two calabashes of sweet milk, receiving in return a number of presents. Nevertheless, he seemed somewhat suspicious, and questioned Park closely concerning the object of his journey. On parting, he offered Park the protection of his son as far as Sego, whither he intended to proceed in a few days; but Park was too anxious to reach the Niger, to submit to any delay. The health of the soldiers became still worse, one died, and another was left behind at Bangassi. They had not gone far from the town when four men lay down, and declared themselves unable to proceed. Park himself felt very sick and faint; but his spirits were revived, and he almost felt a return of strength, when, upon ascending an eminence, he saw some distant mountains to the southeast. "The certainty that the Niger washed the southern base of these mountains, made him forget his fever; and he thought of nothing but how to climb their blue summits."

On the 27th, July, they reached Nummasoolo, a large ruined town, which had been destroyed by war. They had scarcely time to pitch the tent before the rain came upon them in torrents, and threatened to destroy the merchandise: two days were spent in drying it. Two more of the men died, and one was left behind at this place, concerning whom there is the following entry in Park's journal:—"Was under the necessity of leaving here William Allen sick. Paid the Dooty for him as usual. I regretted much leaving this man; he had naturally a cheerful disposition, and he used often to beguile the watches of the night with the songs of our dear native land." Their route now lay through ruined towns and villages. The last of the forty asses they had brought from St. Jago perished of fatigue. On the 9th August they had to pass a rapid stream, and a number of their beasts of burden were nearly drowned. Both Mr. Scott and Lieutenant Martyn were suffering from fever; and Park's brother-in-law, Mr. Anderson, was found lying under a bush, seemingly in a dying state. Park lifted him up, carried him on his back across a stream which came up to his middle, then placed him on his own horse, and again proceeded to help in carrying over the loads. He crossed the stream sixteen times; then loaded his ass, walked on foot to the next village, killing the horse on which Anderson was, and driving the ass before him. In the two last marches they had lost four men; and on the 12th none of the Europeans were able to lift a load. As they went on, Park led Mr. Anderson's horse by the bridle, to give him more ease. They passed an ass deserted by the driver, who was never more heard of. A sick man, who had been mounted on Park's horse, also lay on the ground. About twelve, Anderson's strength seemed quite exhausted, and Park laid him under a bush, and sat down near him. Two hours after he again made an effort to proceed, but was compelled to desist. Park allowed the horse to graze, and sat down beside his dying friend. About five o'clock Anderson faintly intimated his desire of being mounted, and Park led forward the horse as quickly as possible, in the hope of reaching Koomikoomi before night. They had only got on about a mile when they heard a noise like the barking of a huge mastiff, ending in a prolonged hiss like that of an angry cat. Park thought at first that it was a large monkey, and observed to Anderson, "what a bouncing fellow that must be," when another bark was heard nearer, and then one close at hand accompanied with a growl. Immediately they saw three large lions all abreast, bounding over the long grass towards them. Park was apprehensive lest, if he allowed them to come too near, and his piece should miss fire, the lions would spring upon them. He therefore let go the bridle, and walked forward to meet them. As soon as he came within long shot he fired at the centre one, but did not seem to hit him; the lions halted, looked at each other, then bounded away a few paces, and one of them again stopped and looked at Park, who was busily loading his piece; at length, to his great joy, the last of them slowly marched off among the bushes. About half a mile farther on, another bark and growl proceeded from the bushes, quite close to them. This was probably one of the lions who had continued to track them; and Park, fearing that they would follow him till dark, when they would have too many opportunities for springing secretly upon them, took Anderson's call, and made as load a whistling and noise as he could. Amidst the gullies, Park, after it became dark, could no longer distinguish the footprints of the asses which marked the way along which, the party had proceeded; and as the road became steep and dangerous, he resolved to halt till morning. A fire was lighted, Anderson wrapt in his cloak, while Park watched all night, in case the lions, whom he knew to abound in the neighbourhood, should attack them.

On the 13th August they arrived at the village of Doombila, where Park was delighted to meet Karfa Taura, the kind friend to whom, in his former journey, he owed so many obligations. This worthy person had undertaken a six days journey to Bambakoo, on hearing that a person named Park, who spoke the Mandingo language, was leading a party of white men through the country; and he brought with him three slaves to aid them in getting forward. But not finding Park there, he had proceeded other two days journey to meet him. "He instantly recognised me," says Park, "and you may judge of the pleasure I felt on seeing my old benefactor."

Mr. Scott had died of fever at Koomikoomi, and Mr. Anderson was only brought on by being carried in a litter by negroes, whom Park had hired for that purpose. Disease had done its work fearfully among the little band that had departed high in hope of tracing out the mysterious Niger; and it seemed as if the few who had survived the toilsome and dangerous journey would soon follow their comrades. There were to be other victims yet.

After having travelled twenty miles along a miserable road, they arrived at Touiba on the 18th. Rain fell during the whole night, and as the soldiers went to the village for shelter, Park had to keep watch alone. The district abounded in corn, which rendered the task very troublesome, for there is a law in Africa, that if an ass break a single stem of corn, the proprietor may seize the animal, and if the owner refuse to indemnify him for the loss, he may retain the ass, and though he cannot be sold or employed, he may be killed and eaten—the people of Bambarra reckoning ass-flesh a delightful repast.

On the 19th August, they kept ascending the mountains to the south of Touiba till three o'clock, when, having gained the summit of the ridge which separates the Niger from the remote branches of the Senegal, Park went on a little before, and, coming to the brow of the hill, he once more saw the Niger, rolling its immense stream along the plain. At half-past six o'clock that evening, they arrived at Bambakoo, where the river becomes navigable, and pitched their tents under a tree near the town.



CHAPTER XXX.

Park on the Niger—His Death and Character.

Park now reached the Niger, the point at which he had too fondly hoped that all his difficulties would be at an end. He had conceived that, once afloat upon its waters, he would be swiftly borne onwards towards the termination of its course. But disaster had attended the enterprise almost from its commencement; unexpected and formidable difficulties had caused these flattering prospects to vanish as a dream. On the 29th May, he had expected to reach the Niger in a month; there had since then passed away eleven weeks of unparalleled hardship; the deadly influence of climate, aggravated by the horrors of the rainy season, had caused the greater part of his little band to fall, one after another, around him; the few survivors were so wasted by sickness that, instead of proving an assistance, they only added to his cares and anxieties. No wonder, then, that the joy inspired by the sight of the Niger was transient, and that fearful forebodings hanging upon his spirit should make him thus write:—"After the fatiguing march, which we had experienced, the sight of this river was no doubt pleasant, as it promised an end to, or, at least, an alleviation of our toils. But, when I reflected, that three-fourths of the soldiers had died on the march, and that, in addition to our weakly state, we had no carpenters to build the boats in which we proposed to prosecute our discoveries, the prospect appeared somewhat gloomy." On the 22d August, Park hired a canoe to convey the baggage to Maraboo, and himself embarked in it, along with Anderson. Several rapids intervened, but the river was navigable over them, being much swollen, by the rains. The Niger was here an English mile in breadth, and at the rapids was spread to nearly two miles. They were carried along, at the rate of five miles an hour, and on the following day, arrived in safety at Maraboo. Here Isaaco was paid the stipulated quantity of goods for having acted as guide, to which Park made an additional present, also promising to give him all the asses and horses when once a satisfactory agreement had been come to with the king of Bambarra. Meantime, Isaaco was sent forward to Sego, to ask permission to pass through the king's territories, and to build a boat for sailing down the Niger. Some days elapsed before any answer was received; a report was even current, that the king had with his own hand killed Isaaco, and had avowed his resolution that every white man who should come within his reach should share the same fate. During this period, Park was seized with a severe attack of dysentery, which had carried off so many of his party; he cured himself, however, by taking a powerful course of mercury. His apprehensions were relieved by the arrival of the king's "singing man," who is almost a sort of privy-councillor at the African courts, declaring Mansong's high satisfaction with the presents conveyed to him by Park's envoy, and inviting Park to Sego, to deliver them to his majesty in person. Park was eager to depart, but the "singing man" had contracted a strong liking to the beef and beer which Dooty Sokee ordered to be liberally supplied to him, and six days elapsed before he would consent to move. At last they embarked, and Park thus describes their voyage:—"Nothing can be more beautiful than the views of this immense river; sometimes as smooth as a mirror, at other times ruffled with a gentle breeze, but at all times sweeping us along at the rate of six or seven miles per hour." After passing Koolikorro and Yamina, Park arrived at Samee, where he met with Isaaco, who told him that Mansong seemed favourably disposed towards the expedition, but that, whenever he attempted to enter into particulars, the king began to construct squares and triangles with his fingers upon the sand, and during the whole time that he spoke, seemed unwilling to withdraw his mind from these fits of geometrical study, and showed no anxiety to have a personal interview with the travellers.

A few days afterwards, Park was visited by Modibinnie, the prime minister, and four other officers of the court. It was intimated to him, that Mansong had instructed him to inquire of Park the motives which had brought him to Bambarra, and directed him to give an explanation of his object next morning. Park addressed a judicious speech to them in the Bambarran language, which seemed to produce the desired effect. He alluded to the generous treatment he had received from Mansong in his former journey through Bambarra, and then said, "You all know that the white people are a trading people, and that all the articles of value which the Moors and the people of Jinni bring to Sego are made by us. If you speak of a good gun; who made it? the white people. We sell them to the Moors; the Moors bring them to Tombuctoo, where they sell them at a higher rate. The people of Tombuctoo sell them to the people of Jinni at a still higher price, and the people of Jinni sell them to you. Now, the king of the white people wishes to find out a way by which we may bring our merchandise to you, and sell every thing at a much cheaper rate than you now have them. For this purpose, if Mansong will permit me to pass, I purpose sailing down the Joliba, to the place where it mixes with the salt water; and if I find no rocks or danger in the way, the white men's small vessels will come up and trade at Sego, if Mansong wishes it." He concluded by advising them to keep this secret from the Moors, who would certainly murder him were they aware of his purpose. Upon this, Modibinnie replied, "We have heard what you have said. Your journey is a good one, and may God prosper you in it. Mansong will protect you." Park's presents were viewed with high admiration, particularly a silver-plated tureen, and two double-barrelled guns; Modibinnie declaring, that "the present was great, and worthy of Mansong." A wish being also expressed to examine the remainder of his stores, Park was reluctantly obliged to exhibit them. Two days afterwards, they returned with a favourable message from Mansong, who promised them protection in travelling through his dominions, and also gave them permission to build a boat at Samee, Sego, Sansanding, or Jinni. Park chose Sansanding, as being the most retired; and Mansong having asked what suitable return he could make for such a handsome present, Park intimated that two large canoes would answer his purpose best.

In the voyage to Sansanding they suffered much from the intense heat; and on the 2d October, two of the soldiers died. Sansanding is a place carrying on a considerable traffic, and is said to contain eleven thousand inhabitants. It has a large market-place, in the form of a square, where the articles for sale are arranged on stalls, shaded by mats from the heat of the sun. In each stall only a single article is sold, the chief being beef, beer, beads, indigo, cloth, elephants teeth, and slaves; besides which one side of the square is entirely devoted to salt the staple commodity of the place. The value of the articles is paid in cowries, the chief currency of central Africa.

As Mansong did not seem likely to fulfil his promise soon, Park found it necessary to provide, by the sale of some of his merchandise, a sufficient supply of cowries. Accordingly he opened a stall in Sansanding, and displayed for sale such an assortment of European goods as had never before been seen in the quarter. He soon found abundance of purchasers, as his goods were very superior in quality. But his success had nearly proved fatal to him, for it excited the envy of the merchants of the place, who, joining with the moors of Sego, endeavoured to tempt Mansong, by large offers, to put the white men to death; but the king was far too honourable to accept of this base proposal. But independently of the danger of such attempts, the season was now too much advanced to allow of any farther delay. The river was already beginning to subside, and Park wished to commence his voyage, before the Moors residing in the countries through which he would have to pass, should receive notice of his expedition from their countrymen who showed such enmity to him at Sego. He sent repeated remonstrances to Mansong. At length, on the 16th October, Modibinnie came down with a canoe from the king; one half of which being rotten, another half was sent for; but this also being defective, another, almost as bad, was brought. This proved that his friendly offices were to be confined merely to words. To add to Park's difficulties, all the carpenters whom he had brought with him from England had died, before their services were needed. But undismayed at this most untoward occurrence, he determined to make the most of his scanty materials. With the aid of a single soldier, by patching together all the three, after eighteen days, he constructed a boat, forty feet in length, and six in breadth, which he termed the schooner Joliba. Before he left Sansanding, he met with a more severe misfortune than any he had before experienced. His relation Mr. Anderson died, after a lingering illness of four months. Park passes no studied eulogium upon his merits, but speaks of him simply and sincerely, in a manner which shows the high sense he felt of his merits. "October 28th, at a quarter past five o'clock in the morning, my dear friend Mr. Alexander Anderson died, after a sickness of four months. I feel much inclined to speak of his merits; but as his worth was known only to a few friends, I will rather cherish his memory in silence, and imitate his cool and steady conduct, than weary my friends with a panegyric in which they cannot be supposed to join. I shall only observe, that no event which took place during the journey ever threw the smallest gloom over my mind, till I laid Mr. Anderson in the grave. I then felt myself as if left, a second time, lonely and friendless amid the wilds of Africa." Mr. Anderson was buried near one of the principal mosques at Sansanding, and the Dooty of the place was present, as a mark of respect, at the interment. The party was now reduced to five Europeans; Park, Lieutenant Martyn, and three soldiers, one of whom was in a state of derangement.

The schooner was ready by the 14th November, and Park only delayed setting sail till Isaaco should return from Sego; when he came he advised Park to set off instantly, lest the vigilance of the Moors should be roused. Before departing he wrote letters to Mr. Anderson's father, Sir Joseph Banks, Lord Camden, and Mrs. Park. As the two latter are peculiarly interesting, we shall quote them.

"To the Earl Camden, one of his Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State, &c. &c. &c.

"On board of H.M. Schooner, Joliba, at anchor off Sansanding, 17th November 1805.

"MY LORD—I have herewith sent you an account of each day's proceedings since we left Kayee. Many of the incidents related are in themselves extremely trifling; but are intended to recall to my recollection (if it pleases God to restore me again to my dear native land) other particulars, illustrative of the manners and customs of the natives, which would have swelled this bulky communication to a most unreasonable size.

"Your Lordship will recollect that I always spoke of the rainy season with horror, as being extremely fatal to Europeans; and our journey from the Gambia to the Niger will furnish a melancholy proof of it.

"We had no contest whatever with the natives, nor was any one of us killed by wild animals, or any other accidents; and yet I am sorry to say, that of forty-four Europeans who left the Gambia in perfect health, five only are at present alive, viz. three soldiers (one deranged in mind), Lieutenant Martyn, and myself.

"From this account I am afraid that your Lordship will be apt to consider matters as in a very hopeless state; but I assure you I am far from desponding. With the assistance of one of the soldiers, I have changed a large canoe into a tolerably good schooner; on board of which I this day hoisted the British flag, and shall set sail to the east, with the fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger, or perish in the attempt. I have heard nothing that I can depend on respecting the remote course of this mighty stream; but I am more and more inclined to think, that it can end nowhere but in the sea.

"My dear friend Mr. Anderson, and likewise Mr. Scott are both dead. But though all the Europeans who were with me should die, and though I were myself half dead, I would still persevere; and if I could not succeed in this object of my journey, I would at last die on the Niger.

"If I succeed in the object of my journey, I expect to be in England in the month of May or June, by way of the West Indies.

"I request that your Lordship will have the goodness to permit my friend, Sir Joseph Banks, to peruse the abridged account of my proceedings, and that it may be preserved in case I should loose my papers.—I have the honour to be," &c.

"To Mrs. Park.

"Sansanding 19th November 1805.

"It grieves me to the heart to write any thing that gives you uneasiness, but such is the will of Him who doeth all things well! Your brother Alexander, my dear friend, is no more! He died of the fever at Sansanding, on the morning of the 28th of October; for particulars, I must refer you to your father. I am afraid that, impressed with a woman's fears, and the anxieties of a wife, you may be led to consider my situation as a great deal worse than it really is. It is true, my dear friends Mr. Anderson and George Scott have both bid adieu to the things of this world, and the greater part of the soldiers have died on the march during the rainy season; but you may believe me, I am in good health. The rains are completely over, and the healthy season has commenced; so that there is no danger of sickness, and I have still a sufficient force to protect me from any insult in sailing down the river to the sea.

"We have already embarked all our things, and shall sail the moment I have finished this letter. I do not intend to stop, nor land anywhere, till we reach the coast, which I suppose will be sometime in the end of January. We shall then embark in the first vessel for England. If we have to go round by the West Indies, the voyage will occupy three months longer, so that we expect to be in England on the 1st of May. The reason for our delay since we left the coast was the rainy season, which came on us during the journey, and almost all the soldiers became affected with the fever.

"I think it not unlikely but I shall be in England before you receive this. You may be sure that I feel happy at turning my face towards home. We this morning have done with all intercourse with the natives, and the sails are now hoisting for our departure for the coast."

These were the last accounts received from Park and his brave companions. Isaaco, who brought the two preceding letters, along with Park's Journal, departed from Sansanding on the 17th November, and arrived at Pisania with the intelligence, that Park, along with three white men (all of the Europeans that had survived the journey,) three slaves, and Amadi Fatouma, his new guide, set sail in their little vessel down the Niger. In the following year unfavourable reports reached the British settlements on that coast, brought by native merchants from the interior, who declared that they had heard that Park and his companions had perished. But as these accounts were vague, no credit was for some time attached to them. But when months and years glided away without any information concerning the expedition, it was feared that the tidings of disaster were too true. The anxieties of the British public had followed Park on his way, and they demanded that the mystery which hung over the subject should be cleared up. At length, in the year 1810, Colonel Maxwell, the governor of Senegal despatched Isaaco, Park's guide, upon a mission into the interior, to collect all the information that he could upon the matter. After twenty months' absence, Isaaco returned with full confirmation of the reports concerning the fate of Park and his companions. He brought with him a journal, containing a full report of his proceedings, which bears internal evidence of fidelity and truth. His information was derived from an unexceptionable quarter,—from Amadi Fatouma, whom Park had hired to be his guide from Sansanding to Kashua. Isaaco met this person at Modina, a town upon the banks of the Niger, a little beneath Sansanding. Upon Isaaco's asking him if he knew what had become of Park, he burst into tears, and said, "They are all dead!" On Isaaco's inquiring the particulars, Amadi Fatouma, whom Park had, in his letter to Sir Joseph Banks, described as a man of intelligence and acuteness, produced a journal, written in Arabic, containing a narrative of all he knew upon the subject. We shall give a summary of the principal facts contained in this document, the veracity of which has been amply confirmed by the researches of subsequent travellers.

Amadi Fatouma accompanied Park, Lieutenant Martyn, three soldiers, and three slaves, in the vessel, which had been built for the purpose of descending the Niger; and which, though clumsy, was not ill-adapted for inland navigation, being flat-bottomed, narrow, and schooner-rigged, so that she could sail with any wind. After two days voyage, they arrived at Jenne, to the chief of which place Park gave a present. They sailed on in perfect safety till they came to the lake Dibbe, where three armed canoes attacked them, but were beaten off. They were again attacked at Kabra or Rakbara, the port of Tombuctoo, and also at Gouramo. In these encounters several of the natives were slain. About this time one of the three soldiers, who had been suffering under mental derangement, died. Their course lay towards the kingdom of Haussa, and they were obliged to keep constantly on their guard against the natives, who frequently sailed up to them in armed canoes, and molested them from the banks of the river. But fortunately they were not only well provided with arms and ammunition, but had also laid in a large stock of provisions, before leaving Bambarra, so that they were able to sail on without touching upon the shore, so long as they dreaded the hostility of the inhabitants. At Caffo some of the people on shore called out to the guide, "Amadi Fatouma, how can you pass through our country without giving us anything?" Accordingly, a few trifling articles were thrown to them. After they had passed this place, the navigation became difficult and intricate, the course of the little vessel being interrupted by shallows, and by rocks almost closing up the river, and dividing it into narrow channels. At length they anchored before Goronmo, where Amadi Fatouma landed to purchase provisions. The chief of this place seemed well disposed towards Park, for he warned him that a body of armed men were posted on a high rock commanding the river, to cut off his little party. Here Park remained all night; upon passing the place next morning he saw a number of Moors, with horses and camels, but unarmed, from whom he experienced no molestation. The guide was engaged to accompany them no farther than the kingdom of Haussa. Before he departed, Park said to him, "Now, Amadi, you are at the end of your journey. I engaged you to conduct me here. You are going to leave me; but before you go, you must give me the names of the necessaries of life, &c. in the language of the countries through which I am going to pass." Amadi accordingly remained two days longer, till they arrived at the kingdom of Yaour, where he landed, with a musket and sabre for the Dooty, and some other presents; and also some silver rings, flints, and gunpowder, as a present for the king of Yaour, who resided at a little distance. The Dooty asked Park, through Amadi, "Whether the white men intended to return to that place?" Park answered that "he could not return any more." The Dooty acted in a covetous and dishonourable manner, keeping back the king's present, and retaining it for his own use. Amadi's narrative proves that this actually caused Park's murder. After the schooner had gone on her way, Amadi slept on shore, and then went to do homage to the king. When he entered the king's residence, he found that the treacherous Dooty had already sent two messengers to the court, to say that the white men had passed down the river without giving any thing either to the Dooty or to the king, and that Amadi was in league with them. The guide was immediately thrown into prison. The king then dispatched an armed band to attack Park as he passed the town of Boussa; a place peculiarly fitted for the murderous deed, as there a ridge of rock almost entirely blocks up the river, leaving only one channel, which Lander, who saw the spot, describes as "not more than a stone-cast across." Upon this rock the king's force was stationed. No sooner did Park and his companions attempt to pass this point, than they were received with a shower of stones, lances, pikes, and arrows. They defended themselves bravely, in spite of the overwhelming numbers opposed to them. At length their efforts became feebler, for they were soon exhausted. Two of the slaves at the stern of the canoe were killed; nevertheless they threw every thing in the canoe into the river, and kept firing. But as the canoe could no longer be kept up against the current, they endeavoured to escape by swimming; Park took hold of one of the white men and jumped into the river; Lieutenant Martyn did the same, and they were all drowned in their attempt to reach the land. The natives still discharged missiles at the remaining black in the canoe; but he cried out for mercy, saying, "Stop throwing now, you see nothing in the canoe, and nobody but myself, therefore cease. Take me and the canoe, but don't kill me." He was accordingly carried, with the canoe, to the king. Amadi Fatouma was detained in irons three months, at the expiry of which period he learned these facts from the slave.

As a proof of the truth of this narrative, Isaaco brought with him the only relic of Park which he was able to procure—a sword-belt, which the king of Yaour had converted into a girth for his horse. This he obtained through the instrumentality of a Poule, who bribed one of the king's female slaves to steal it for him.

When Isaaco's narrative first reached this country, many of its statements were thought to be unwarranted by facts; but his veracity has been fully proved by the researches of subsequent travellers. The accuracy of his account of the spot where the melancholy catastrophe took place is acknowledged by Captain Clapperton, who, in 1826, visited Boussa. With some difficulty he drew from the natives an account of the circumstances, which, however, they ascribed to the men of Boussa, supposing Park to be a chief of the Felatahs, who had made a hostile incursion into Soudan, and whom they shortly expected to attack themselves. In 1830, John and Richard Lander saw the place, and thus described it; "On our arrival at this formidable place, we discovered a range of black rocks running directly across the stream, and the water, finding only one narrow passage, rushed through it with great impetuosity, overturning and carrying away every thing in its course." They also discovered a tohe or cloak, a cutlass, a double-barrelled gun, a book of logarithms, and an invitation-card, which had belonged to Park. They heard at one time that his journal was still in existence; but it turned out that this was only a feint used by the king of Yaour to entice them into his dominions, and fleece them of some of their property; and there appeared no reason to doubt that the journal, the loss of which there is much reason to regret, sunk in the waters of the Niger.

It seems unnecessary to enter into a lengthened estimate of the character of Mungo Park. The biographical details which we have given, with his own narrative of his first expedition, and the summary of the leading events of his second, will have sufficiently enabled our readers to judge for themselves. But we cannot quit the subject without a few brief remarks, having frequently, while writing these pages, had our attention called off from the events themselves to him who was the principal actor in them. Amongst the numerous adventurers whose spirit of research has led them into unknown countries, it would be difficult to find one better qualified in every way than Park was. His frame was admirably adapted for enduring toil. He was tall and muscular, and possessed great strength and agility. In his first African journey he traversed three thousand miles, for the most part on foot, through an unknown and barbarous country, exposed to continued unremitting toil, to the perils of the way, to storm, hunger, pestilence, and the attacks of wild beasts and savage natives, supported by a dauntless spirit, and by a fortitude which never forsook him. Amply did he possess the indispensable qualities of a traveller, keenness of observation, mental energy, unflinching perseverance, an ardent temperament, corrected and restrained by a cool and sagacious judgment. Amid danger and disaster his character shone with great lustre. It only remains to be added, that he was an exemplary model in his faithful discharge of all the relative duties—a good son, husband, and parent.

We entirely concur in the following observations of a writer in the Edinburgh Review: "We bid a mournful farewell to the sufferings and exploits of this illustrious man;—sufferings borne with an unaffected cheerfulness of magnanimity, which must both exalt and endear him to all who are capable of being touched with what is generous and noble in character,—and exploits performed with a mildness and modesty and kindness of nature, not less admirable than the heroic firmness and ardour with which they were conjoined. In Mungo Park, we are not afraid to say, that the world lost a great man—one who was well qualified, and indeed has been, one of its benefactors. His travels are interesting, not merely to those who care about Africa, or the great schemes to his zeal for which he fell a martyr, but to all who take delight in the spectacle of unbounded courage and heroic ardour, unalloyed with any taint of ferocity, selfishness, or bigotry."

Park left behind him three sons and a daughter. Mungo, the eldest, became an assistant-surgeon in India, and soon after died. Thomas, the second, resembled his father both in appearance and disposition, and early cherished the intention of obtaining certain information as to his father's fate. He was a midshipman on board the Sybille; and having obtained permission from the Lords of the Admiralty, set out on an expedition into the interior. He landed at Acra in June 1827; but arrived there only to die. Archibald, the youngest son, is a lieutenant in the Bengal service. Park's daughter is the wife of Henry Wetter Meredith, Esq. of Pentry-Bichen, Denbighshire. Park's widow is still living.

The following beautiful tribute to Mungo Park's memory appeared in Blackwood's Magazine:—

The Negro's Lament for Mungo Park.

1.

Where the wild Joliba Rolls his deep waters, Sate at their evening toil Afric's dark daughters: Where the thick mangroves Broad shadows were flinging, Each o'er her lone loom Bent mournfully singing— "Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!

2.

"Through the deep forest Fierce lions are prowling; 'Mid thickets entangling, Hyenas are howling; There should he wander, Where danger lurks ever; To his home, where the sun sets, Return shall he never. Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!

3.

"The hands of the Moor In his wrath do they bind him? Oh! sealed is his doom If the savage Moor find him. More fierce than hyenas, Through darkness advancing, Is the curse of the Moor, And his eyes fiery glancing! Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!

4.

"A voice from the desert! My wilds do not hold him; Pale thirst doth not rack, Nor the sand-storm enfold him. The death-gale pass'd by And his breath failed to smother, Yet ne'er shall he wake To the voice of his mother Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!

5.

"O loved of the lotus Thy waters adorning, Pour, Joliba! pour Thy full streams to the morning? The halcyon may fly To thy wave as her pillow; But wo to the white man Who trusts to thy billow! Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!

6.

"He launched his light bark, Our fond warnings despising, And sailed to the land Where the day-beams are rising. His wife from her bower May look forth in her sorrow, But he shall ne'er come To her hope of to-morrow! Alas! for the white man! o'er deserts a ranger, No more shall we welcome the white-bosomed stranger!"



CHAPTER XXX.

Tuckey, Peddie, and Gray's Expeditions.

The fatal termination of Park's second journey by no means damped the ardent desire of acquiring fresh knowledge concerning the interior of Africa. The question as to whether the Niger finally proved to be identical with the Congo, was undetermined; and Government resolved to organize a large expedition for the purpose of deciding it. To attain this object, there were to be two parties sent out, one of which was to descend the Niger, and the other to ascend the Congo or Zaire river; and if the hypothesis proved to be true, it was expected that both would form a junction at a certain point. The expedition excited much interest, and from the scale on which it was planned, and the talents of the officers engaged in it, seemed to have a fair promise of success.

Captain Tuckey, an experienced officer, was to command the Congo expedition; his party consisted of fifty seamen, marines, and mechanics, with several individuals skilled in the various branches of natural history. They sailed from Deptford in the middle of February 1816, and arrived at Malemba about the end of June. The mafouk, or king's chief minister of the place, gave them at first a cordial reception, but soon showed hostility, when he learnt that they had no intention of purchasing slaves. Soon after, they entered the Congo, which much disappointed their expectations, on account of the shallowness of its channel. The river, however, was then at a low ebb; its banks were marshy, and its waters moved slowly and silently between forests of mangrove trees. The air was filled with the discordant croak of innumerable parrots, diversified somewhat by the notes of a few singing birds. As they proceeded, the river, instead of diminishing, seemed to increase in volume. At Embomma, much interest was excited among the natives, by the discovery that their cook's mate was the son of a native prince. His arrival was the signal for general rejoicing, and the enraptured father hastened to welcome his heir. During the night the village resounded with music and songs. "Next day the ci-devant cook appeared in all the pomp of African royalty, with a tarnished silk embroidered coat, a black glazed hat with an enormous feather, and a silk sash; he was carried in a hammock by two slaves, with an umbrella over his head."

On the 27th July, Captain Tuckey was introduced to the Chenoo or sovereign, who sat in full divan, with his councillors around him, beneath a spreading tree, from the branches of which were suspended two of his enemies' skulls. He was dressed in a most gaudy fashion. He could not be made to comprehend the objects of the expedition, and for two hours reiterated the two questions,—"Are you come to trade?" and "Are you come to make war?" After he had exacted a promise that they would not interfere with the slave-trade, a keg of rum was emptied with great satisfaction by the monarch and his attendants.

On either bank of the river were ridges of rocky hills, which rapidly became more and more contracted; at length they came to a cataract, where its channel was almost entirely blocked up by the fall of huge fragments of granite. The boats could go no farther, nor could they be carried over the hills and deep ravines. The party were compelled to proceed by land, and without a guide. They had frequently to sleep in the open air, the evil effect of which soon became apparent in the sickness of the party. At length, just when their progress became easier, on account of the country being much more level, their health was so much injured, that several of the principal members of the expedition were compelled to return to the ship. Captain Tuckey, who had suffered much from fever, felt a like necessity. At this crisis the baggage canoe sunk with the greater part of their utensils on board; the natives continually annoyed them, and seized every opportunity of plundering. They had great difficulty in returning to the shore. Most of the naturalists died of fever; and Captain Tuckey was cut off after reaching the coast.

The Niger expedition, consisting of 100 men, and 200 animals, was commanded by Major Peddie. They sailed from the Senegal, and landed at Kacundy. Major Peddie died before they set out, and the command devolved on Captain Campbell. Before they had proceeded 150 miles from Kacundy, the chief of the Foulahs obstructed their progress much, under pretence of a war. A long time was lost in fruitless negociations; during which, most of the beasts of burden died. They were compelled to return; and Captain Campbell soon after died from vexation and disappointment.

In 1818, Captain Gray attempted to proceed by Park's route along the Gambia; but being detained by the chief of Bondou, came back as soon as he was released.

Undismayed by these repeated failures, the British Government still endeavoured to promote the cause of African discovery. The Bashaw of Tripoli, who had great influence with the inhabitants of Bornou, and the other great African states, seemed favourable to the object, and promised his protection. Mr. Ritchie was sent out, accompanied by Lieutenant Lyon of the navy. In March 1819, they reached Fezzan. The sultan, who had acquired great wealth by the slave-trade, deluded them with promises of protection. Here they were detained by illness the whole summer. Mr. Ritchie died on the 20th November 1819: and Mr. Lyon, after collecting a little information concerning Fezzan, resolved to retrace his steps.



CHAPTER XXXI.

Denham and Clapperton's Journey.

Government resolved to send an expedition to Tripoli, across the Great Desert, to Bornou, confiding in the friendly disposition of the Bashaw of Tripoli, whose influence extended over a large part of Central Africa. Major Denham, Lieutenant Clapperton of the Navy, and Dr. Oudney, a naval surgeon, who possessed considerable knowledge of natural history, were selected for this mission. They reached Tripoli about the middle of November 1821, and were presented to the Bashaw, whom they found sitting cross-legged on a carpet, surrounded by his guards; he ordered refreshments to be brought, and afterwards invited them to attend a hawking party.

On the 8th April 1822, they arrived at Mourzouk, and were civilly received by the potentate of that place, who however did not shew any great zeal in forwarding their arrangements. After various delays, Major Denham returned to Tripoli to remonstrate with the Bashaw; and not getting any satisfactory reply from him, set sail for England; but was stopped at Marseilles, by a vessel sent by the Bashaw, to announce that an agreement had been entered into with Boo Khaloom, a wealthy merchant, who intended to travel across the Desert, and had promised to escort the travelers.

Boo Khaloom was a favourable specimen of that peculiar race, the Arab caravan-merchants. The Arab trader travels with his merchandise over the greater part of a continent; his home is wherever the human foot can wander; he is exposed to the inhospitable desert and the burning sky. He must be prepared to defend his property against the roving bands of plunderers, and proceed at the head of a detachment of troops. Confiding in the strength of his forces, and in reprisal of attacks, he is too often tempted to add the gains of robbery to those of merchandise. He is a slave dealer, and organizes expeditions to seize his unfortunate victims. As the value of his goods is much heightened by conveyance across the desert, in a few successful journeys he may acquire great wealth and influence. He is a staunch Mahometan, and enslaves only the enemies of the Prophet. He is fond of display, and when his wealth abounds, emulates almost princely splendour. Boo Khaloom had some virtue,—he was free from bigotry, and even humane for a slave-dealer, and he was of a generous and honourable nature.

Major Denham travelled along a dreary route till he came to Sockna, into which place Boo Khaloom resolved to enter in becoming state. He rode at the head of his party on a beautiful white Tunisian horse, the saddle and housings of which were ornamented with gold, attired in robes of rich silk covered with embroidery. On the 30th December, Major Denham arrived at Mourzouk, and was distressed to find his two companions much indisposed. They set out from Mourzouk along with the caravan; the party consisted of 210 Arabs, commanded by their respective chiefs, who cheered the monotony of the way by tales and songs. The road lay along a sandy uneven soil highly impregnated with salt, the track being worn down by the footsteps of caravans. In these dreary regions no sound either of insect or of bird was heard. After they left Mourzouk, the eye was relieved at great distances, by the sight of small towns, situated in the oases, or watered valleys, the lofty palm-trees of which served to guide them. But these became gradually fewer, and after leaving Bilma, they travelled for thirteen days without coming to any resting-place. During the day the sun beat intensely upon them; but the nights were still and beautiful. Cool and refreshing breezes played around the encampment, and the moon and stars shone with great brilliancy. A soft couch was found by removing the—sand to the depth of a few inches.