Chapter II: Part 2

Hoping to escape in this confused throng, he mounted his horse; and taking a bag of corn before him, rode slowly off along with the townspeople. On their arrival at Queira, a village at no great distance from the city, Park began to flatter himself that he had really eluded the vigilance of his persecutors; but before the agreeable idea had got a firm footing in his mind, he saw Ali’s chief slave, accompanied by four Moors, arrive, and take up their lodgings with the dooty. Johnson, our traveller’s interpreter, suspecting the design of this visit, sent two boys to overhear their conversation, by which means he learned that it was their intention to carry Park back to Bubaker. Upon this he at once came to the desperate resolution to effect his deliverance that very night from his pursuers, or to perish in the attempt. Johnson, who applauded this determination, but wanted the courage to imitate it, was nevertheless exceedingly well disposed to aid in effecting his master’s escape. He therefore undertook to keep watch upon the movements of the enemy, while Park was preparing for flight. About midnight he got all his apparel in readiness, which consisted of two shirts, two pair of trousers, two pocket-handkerchiefs, an upper and under waistcoat, a hat, a pair of half-boots, and a cloak. Besides these things he had not in his possession a single bead, or any other article, with which to purchase food for himself, or provender for his horse:--“About daybreak, Johnson, who had been listening to the Moors all night, came,” says he, “and whispered to me that they were all asleep. The awful crisis was now arrived when I was again either to taste the blessings of freedom, or languish out my days in captivity. A cold sweat moistened my forehead as I thought of the dreadful alternative, and reflected that one way or the other, my fate must be decided in the course of the ensuing day. But to deliberate was to lose the only chance of escaping. So taking up my bundle, I stepped gently over the negroes who were sleeping in the open air; and, having mounted my horse, I bade Johnson farewell, desiring him to take particular care of the papers I had intrusted him with, and inform my friends in Gambia that he had left me in good health on my way to Bambarra. I proceeded with great caution, surveying each bush, and frequently listening and looking behind me for the Moorish horsemen, until I was about a mile from the town, when I was surprised to find myself in the neighbourhood of a korree, belonging to the Moors. The shepherds followed me for about a mile, hooting and throwing stones after me; and when I was out of their reach, and had begun to indulge the pleasing hope of escaping, I was again greatly alarmed to hear somebody halloo behind me; and looking back I saw three Moors on horseback, coming after me at full speed, whooping and brandishing their double-barrel guns: I knew it was in vain to think of escaping, and therefore turned back and met them; when two of them caught hold of my bridle, one on each side, and the third, presenting his musket, told me I must go back to Ali.”

It soon appeared, however, that these gentlemen were merely private robbers, who were fearful that their master had not sufficiently pillaged the stranger; for, after examining his bundle, and plundering him of his cloak, they bade him begone, and follow them no further. Too happy to be rid of the villains at any rate, he immediately struck into the woods, and continued his journey. His joy at thus escaping from the Moors was quickly damped by the consideration that he must very soon be in want of both food and water, neither of which could he procure without approaching villages or wells, where he would almost inevitably encounter his old enemies. He therefore pushed on with all the vigour of which he was possessed, in the hope of reaching some town or village of the kingdom of Bambarra. But he already began to experience the tortures of thirst. His mouth was parched and inflamed; a sudden dimness, accompanied by symptoms of fainting, would frequently come over his eyes; and as his horse also was exceedingly fatigued, he began to apprehend that he should perish of thirst. Some shrubs, the leaves of which he chewed to relieve the burning pain in his mouth and throat, were all found to be bitter and of no service. “A little before sunset, having reached the top of a gentle rising,” says Park, “I climbed a high tree, from the topmost branches of which I cast a melancholy look over the barren wilderness, but without discovering the most distant trace of a human dwelling. The same dismal uniformity of shrubs and sand everywhere presented itself, and the horizon was level and uninterrupted as that of the sea.

“Descending from the tree, I found my horse devouring the stubble and brushwood with great avidity; and as I was now too faint to attempt walking, and my horse too much fatigued to carry me, I thought it but an act of humanity, and perhaps the last I should ever have it in my power to perform, to take off his bridle and let him shift for himself; in doing which, I was affected with sickness and giddiness; and, falling upon the sand, felt as if the hour of death was fast approaching. Here then (thought I), after a short but ineffectual struggle, terminate all my hopes of being useful in my day and generation--here must the short span of my life come to an end. I cast, as I believed, a last look on the surrounding scene, and while I reflected on the awful change that was about to take place, this world and its enjoyments seemed to vanish from my recollection. Nature, however, at length resumed its functions; and on recovering my senses I found myself stretched upon the sand, with the bridle still in my hand, and the sun just sinking behind the trees. I now summoned all my resolution, and determined to make another effort to prolong my existence: and, as the evening was somewhat cool, I resolved to travel as far as my limbs would carry me, in hopes of reaching (my only resource) a watering-place. With this view I put the bridle upon my horse, and driving him before me, went slowly along for about an hour, when I perceived some lightning from the north-east--a most delightful sight, for it promised rain. The darkness and lightning increased very rapidly; and in less than an hour I heard the wind roaring behind the bushes. I had already opened my mouth to receive the refreshing drops which I expected: but I was instantly covered with a cloud of sand, driven with such force by the wind as to give a very disagreeable sensation to my face and arms; and I was obliged to mount my horse and stop under a bush to prevent being suffocated. The sand continued to fly for near an hour in amazing quantities, after which I again set forward, and travelled with difficulty until ten o’clock. About this time I was agreeably surprised by some very vivid flashes of lightning, followed by a few heavy drops of rain. In a little time the sand ceased to fly, and I alighted and spread out all my clean clothes to collect the rain, which at length I saw would certainly fall. For more than an hour it rained plentifully, and I quenched my thirst by wringing and sucking my clothes.

“There being no moon, it was remarkably dark; so that I was obliged to lead my horse, and direct my way by the compass, which the lightning enabled me to observe. In this manner I travelled with tolerable expedition until past midnight; when the lightning became more distant, and I was under the necessity of groping along, to the no small danger of my hands and eyes. About two o’clock my horse started at something; and, looking round, I was not a little surprised to see a light at a short distance among the trees, and supposing it to be a town, I groped along the sand in hopes of finding corn-stalks, cotton, or other appearances of cultivation, but found none. As I approached, I perceived a number of other lights in different places, and began to suspect that I had fallen upon a party of Moors. However, in my present situation, I was resolved to see who they were, if I could do it with safety. I accordingly led my horse cautiously towards the light, and heard by the lowing of the cattle, and the clamorous tongues of the herdsmen, that it was a watering-place, and most likely belonged to the Moors. Delightful as the sound of the human voice was to me, I resolved once more to strike into the woods, and rather run the risk of perishing with hunger, than trust myself again in their hands; but being still thirsty, and dreading the approach of the burning day, I thought it prudent to search for the wells, which I expected to find at no great distance. In this pursuit I inadvertently approached so near one of the tents as to to be perceived by a woman, who immediately screamed out. The people came running to her assistance from some of the neighbouring tents, and passed so very near me that I thought I was discovered, and hastened again into the woods.

“About a mile from this place I heard a loud and confused noise, somewhere to the right of my course, and in a short time was happy to find it was the croaking of frogs, which was heavenly music to my ears. I followed the sound, and at daybreak arrived at some shallow muddy pools, so full of frogs that it was difficult to discern the water. The noise they made frightened my horse, and I was obliged to keep them quiet by beating the water with a branch until he had drunk. Having here quenched my thirst, I ascended a tree, and the morning being clear, I soon perceived the smoke of the watering-place which I had passed in the night, and observed another pillar of smoke, east-southeast, distant 12 or 14 miles.”

Towards this column of smoke, which, as he was informed, arose from a Foulah village, he now directed his course; but on arriving at the place, was inhospitably driven from every door, except that of an old woman, who kindly received him into her dwelling, and furnished him with food for himself and with provender for his horse. Even here, however, the influence of Ali pursued him like his evil genius. The people who had collected round him while he was eating, began, as he clearly discovered from their expressions, to form the design of carrying him back once more to Benowm or Bubaker. He therefore hastened his departure, and having wandered among the woods all day, passed the night under a tree. In this way he continued his journey, sometimes meeting with hospitality, but more frequently avoiding the dwellings of man, and subsisting upon the wild produce of the woods, and the water of a few pools, to which the croaking of the frogs directed him.

At length he entered the kingdom of Bambarra, where he found the people more hospitable in proportion as they were more opulent than their neighbours. Cultivation was here carried on in a spirited manner and on an extensive scale, and “hunger,” as the natives expressed it, “was never known.” The country itself was beautiful, intersected on all sides by rivulets, which, after a rain-storm, were swelled into rapid streams. Park’s horse was now so attenuated by fatigue that it appeared like a mere skeleton, which the traveller, fearing to mount, drove before him, as if to scare away the crows. The Bambarrans, whose hospitable disposition was accompanied by but little delicacy, were infinitely amused at this droll spectacle. Taking him for a Moor, they supposed from his appearance that he must be one of those religious mendicants who, having performed the pilgrimage to the holy cities, thenceforward consider themselves fully entitled to subsist upon the labours of their industrious coreligionists. “‘He has been at Mecca,’ said one; ‘you may see that by his clothes.’ Another asked if my horse was sick; a third wished to purchase it, &c. So that I believe the very slaves were ashamed to be seen in my company.”

However, in spite of all this laughter and ridicule, he proceeded on his way, and at length had the satisfaction to be informed that on the morrow he should see the Niger, denominated _Joliba_, or the “Great Water,” by the natives. Next morning, the 21st of July, after passing through several large villages, he saw the smoke ascend over Sego, the capital of Bambarra, and felt elate with joy at the thought of drawing near so important an object of his mission. “As we approached the town,” says Park, “I was fortunate enough to overtake the fugitive Kaartans, to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my journey through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the king, and we rode together through some marshy ground, where, as I anxiously looked around for the river, one of them called out _Geo affilli_ (see the water); and, looking forward, I saw with infinite pleasure the great object of my mission,--the long sought for, majestic Niger, glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at Westminster, and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I hastened to the brink, and, having drunk of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in prayer to the Great Ruler of all things for having thus far crowned my endeavours with success.”

Sego, the capital of Bambarra, consisted of four distinct towns, two on the northern, and two on the southern bank of the Niger. The king at this period resided on the southern bank, while Park had arrived on the opposite side. The communication between the different quarters of the city was kept up by means of large canoes, which were constantly passing and repassing; notwithstanding which, so great was the pressure of passengers, that Park was compelled to wait upwards of two hours before he could obtain even a chance of being ferried over. Meanwhile, the prospect before him was novel and striking in the highest degree. “The view of this extensive city,” he observes, “the numerous canoes on the river, the crowded population, and the cultivated state of the surrounding country formed altogether a prospect of civilization and magnificence which I little expected to find in the bosom of Africa.”

While he was thus waiting for a passage, the news was conveyed to Mansong that a white man was on the banks of the river coming to see him. The king, who seems to have been alarmed at this intelligence, immediately despatched a messenger, who was directed to inform the stranger that he would not be admitted into the royal presence until the purport of his mission were made known; and that, in the mean while, he was prohibited from passing the river. He was likewise told that the king desired him to seek lodgings in one of the villages in the vicinity of the capital. As there was no alternative, he at once set out for the village, where, to his great mortification, he found that no person would admit him into his house. “I was regarded with astonishment and fear,” he observes, “and was obliged to sit all day without victuals in the shade of a tree; and the night threatened to be very uncomfortable, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance of a heavy rain; and the wild beasts were so very numerous in the neighbourhood, that I should have been under the necessity of climbing up a tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as I was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my horse loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman returning from the labours of the field stopped to observe me, and, perceiving that I was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat upon the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she said she would procure me something to eat; she accordingly went out, and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which, having caused to be half-broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress, pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there without apprehension, called to the female part of her family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labour by songs, one of which was composed extempore, for I was myself the subject of it; it was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words literally translated were these:--‘The winds roared, and the rains fell; the poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree; he has no mother to bring him milk, no wife to grind his corn.’ Chorus:--‘Let us pity the white man, no mother has he,’ &c. Trifling as this recital may appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance was affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected kindness that sleep fled my eyes. In the morning I presented my compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons which remained on my waistcoat, the only recompense I could make her.”

Although Mansong refused to admit our traveller into his presence, and seemed at first to neglect him, it soon appeared that this conduct did not arise from any churlish or inhospitable feelings; for while he persisted in his refusal to see him, and signified his pleasure that he should forthwith depart from the city, he sent him a present of five thousand cowries and a guide to Sansanding. Park immediately obeyed the royal command, and learned from the conversation of his guide on the way, that the king’s motives for thus dismissing him without an audience were at once prudent and liberal, since he feared that by the least show of favour he should excite the jealousy and envy of the Moorish inhabitants, from whose inveterate malice he might be unable to protect him.

With this guide he proceeded to Sansanding, where he was hospitably received by the dooty, and would, as the king’s stranger, have enjoyed much quiet and consideration, had he not had the misfortune to meet with some of his old enemies the Moors, who insisted on conducting him to the mosque, and converting him into a Mohammedan at once. However, the dooty, by exerting his authority, freed him from these fanatics, and ordered a sheep to be killed, and part of it dressed for his supper. “About midnight, when the Moors had left me,” says Park, “he paid me a visit, and with much earnestness desired me to write him a saphie. ‘If a Moor’s saphie is good,’ said this hospitable old man, ‘a white man’s must needs be better.’ I readily furnished him with one possessed of all the virtues I could concentrate, for it contained the Lord’s Prayer. The pen with which it was written was made of a reed, a little charcoal and gum-water made very tolerable ink, and a thin board answered the purpose of paper.”

From Sansanding he departed early in the morning, before the Moors were stirring. The road now lay through the woods, and the guide, who understood the dangers of the way, moved forward with the greatest circumspection, frequently stopping and looking under the bushes. Upon observing this, Park inquired the reason, and was told that lions were very plentiful in that part of the country, and very often attacked travellers in the woods. While they were conversing on this subject Park discovered a camelopard at a little distance, the fore-legs of which, from a hasty glance, appeared much longer than the hinder. “Shortly after this,” says he, “as we were crossing a large open plain where there were a few scattered bushes, my guide, who was a little way before me, wheeled his horse round in a moment, calling out something in the Foulah language which I did not understand. I inquired in Mandingo what he meant. ‘_Wara billi billi_’ (a very large lion)! said he, and made signs for me to ride away. But my horse was too much fatigued; so we rode slowly past the bush from which the animal had given us the alarm. Not seeing any thing myself, however, I thought my guide had been mistaken, when the Foulah suddenly put his hand to his mouth, exclaiming, ‘_Soubah an alluhi_’ (God preserve us)! and to my great surprise I then perceived a large red lion at a short distance from the bush, with his head couched between his fore-paws. I expected he would instantly spring upon me, and instinctively pulled my feet from my stirrups to throw myself on the ground, that my horse might become the victim rather than myself. But it is probable the lion was not hungry; for he quietly suffered us to pass, though we were fairly within his reach.”

About sunset they arrived at Moodiboo, “a delightful village on the banks of the Niger, commanding a view of the river for many miles, both to the east and west. The small green islands, the peaceful retreat of some industrious Foulahs, whose cattle were here secure from the attacks of wild beasts, and the majestic breadth of the river, which is here much larger than at Sego, render the situation one of the most enchanting in the world.” Park was now so worn out with fatigue and suffering, that his landlord, fearing he might die in his house, hurried him away, though he was scarcely able to walk, and his horse still less able to carry him. In fact, they had not proceeded far before the poor beast fell down, and could no more be made to rise; so that, taking off his saddle and bridle, our traveller with extreme reluctance abandoned him to his fate, and began to toil along on foot after his guide. In this way they reached Kea, a small fishing-village on the Niger, where Park embarked in a fisherman’s canoe which was going down the stream, while the guide returned to Sego.

In this canoe our traveller reached Moorzan, whence he was conveyed across the river to Silla, a large town on the opposite shore. It was with great difficulty that he here obtained admission into the strangers’ room of the dooty’s house, a damp, uncomfortable place, where he had a severe paroxysm of fever during the night. Here his resolution and energy, of which no traveller ever possessed a larger share, began at length to fail. No hope of success remained. He therefore, with extreme sorrow and anguish of mind, determined on returning whence he had come; but let me lay before the reader his own simple and manly account of the matter, which cannot fail to impress even the most insensible with veneration for a degree of courage and intrepidity amounting to heroism. “Worn down by sickness, exhausted by hunger and fatigue, half-naked, and without any article of value by which I might procure provisions, clothes, or lodging, I began,” says Park, “to reflect seriously on my situation. I was now convinced by painful experience that the obstacles to my further progress were insurmountable. The tropical rains had already set in with all their violence; the rice-grounds and swamps were already overflowed; and in a few days more travelling of every kind except by water would be completely obstructed. The cowries which remained of the King of Bambarra’s present were not sufficient to hire a canoe for any great distance; and I had but little hopes of subsisting by charity in a country where the Moors have such influence. But, above all, I perceived I was advancing more and more within the power of those merciless fanatics; and from my reception both at Sego and Sansanding, I was apprehensive that, in attempting to reach even Jeuné (unless under the protection of some man of consequence among them, which I had no means of obtaining), I should sacrifice my life to no purpose; for my discoveries would perish with me. The prospect either way was gloomy. In returning to the Gambia, a journey on foot of many hundred miles presented itself to my contemplation, through regions and countries unknown. Nevertheless, this seemed to be the only alternative; for I saw inevitable destruction in attempting to proceed to the eastward. With this conviction on my mind, I hope my readers will acknowledge I did right in going no farther. I had made every exertion to execute my mission in its fullest extent which prudence could justify. Had there been the most distant prospect of a successful termination, neither the unavoidable hardships of the journey nor the dangers of a second captivity should have forced me to desist. This, however, necessity compelled me to do.”

When he had come to this resolution, he thought it incumbent upon him before he left Silla to collect whatever information might be within his reach respecting the further course of the Niger, and the situation and extent of the various kingdoms in its vicinity. Subsequent travellers have solved the problem, the honour of explaining which was denied to Park. We now know that this great river, after having flowed to a considerable distance eastward of Timbuctoo, makes a bend or elbow like the Burrampooter, and, after pursuing a south-westerly course, falls into the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Benin.

On the 30th of July our traveller commenced his return westward, by the same route through which he had reached Silla. In a few days he recovered his horse, which had in some measure regained its strength, though it was still too weak to be ridden. The rainy season having now set in, the whole of the plain country was quickly inundated; so that our traveller was often in danger of losing his way while traversing savannahs many miles in extent, knee-deep in water. In several places he waded breast-deep across the swamps. The huts of the villages in which he passed the night, being undermined or softened by the rain, often fell in; and the noise of their fall sometimes kept him awake, expecting that his own might be the next. His situation was now even worse than during his progress eastward. A report had been widely circulated that he was a spy, in consequence of which he was in some places civilly refused admittance into the towns, in others repulsed from the gates with violence; so that he now appeared inevitably doomed to perish of hunger. However, when the fatal hour seemed at hand, some charitable being always appeared with a poor but seasonable supply, such, perhaps, as a little raw corn, which prolonged his life, and supplied him with strength to achieve his memorable journey. “On the evening of the 15th of August I arrived,” says Park, “at a small village called Song, the surly inhabitants of which would not receive me, nor so much as permit me to enter the gate; but as lions were very numerous in this neighbourhood, and I had frequently in the course of the day seen the impression of their feet upon the road, I resolved to stay in the vicinity of the village. Having collected some grass for my horse, I accordingly laid down under a tree by the gate. About ten o’clock I heard the hollow roar of a lion at no great distance, and attempted to open the gate; but the people from within told me that no person must attempt to enter the gate without the dooty’s permission. I begged them to inform the dooty that a lion was approaching the village, and I hoped he would allow me to come within the gate. I waited for an answer to this message with great anxiety; for the lion kept prowling round the village, and once advanced so very near me that I heard him rustling among the grass, and climbed the tree for safety. About midnight the dooty with some of his people opened the gate, and desired me to come in. They were convinced, they said, I was not a Moor; for no Moor ever waited any time at the gate of a village without cursing the inhabitants.”

The history of this journey now becomes nothing more than a repetition of similar sufferings. Hunger, fatigue, and depression of spirits attack the traveller by turns. Nothing, however, subdues his courage. Obstacle after obstacle yields to his persevering intrepidity, and he pushes forward with invincible ardour towards the coast. In one place, at the request of a native who had grown opulent by industrious application to commerce, he wrote charms for a good supper; and, finding the contrivance productive, continued the practice next day for small presents of various kinds. On other occasions, where superstition did not come to his aid, humanity interposed, and snatched him from starvation. At Bammakoo he was hospitably treated, even by a Moor, who, having travelled to Rio Grande, had conversed with Christians, and conceived a favourable idea of their character. The rains had now increased the Niger to a vast size, and rendered impassable almost every road; but, as our traveller’s finances had long been exhausted, he found himself compelled to proceed, the charity of the natives not extending so far as to the maintaining of a stranger for several months. The ordinary roads being obstructed by the rains, the only practicable route, wild, dreary, and desolate, lay over steril rocky mountains, over which, it was feared, a horse could not pass.

Finding that a singing-man was about to proceed by this road to Sibidooloo, Park placed himself under his guidance, and quitted Bammakoo. He had not proceeded far, however, before his companion, finding that he had taken the wrong path, escaped among the rocks, and left him to find his way how he might. He soon arrived at a village, where he was entertained with hospitality, and where he passed the night. Next day, as he was quietly pursuing his course, a troop of peasants presented themselves, whom he at first took for elephant-hunters, but who very shortly proved themselves to be banditti. Pretending to arrest him in the name of the King of the Foulahs, they commanded him to follow them, until, having reached a dark lonely part of a wood, one of them exclaimed in the Mandingo language, “This place will do!” and immediately snatched his hat from his head. “Though I was by no means free from apprehension,” says Park, “yet I was resolved to show as few signs of fear as possible; and therefore told them, that unless my hat was returned to me I should proceed no farther. But before I had time to receive an answer another drew a knife, and, seizing upon a metal button which remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off, and put it into his pocket. Their intentions were now obvious; and I thought that the easier they were permitted to rob me of every thing the less I had to fear. I therefore allowed them to search my pockets without resistance, and examine every part of my apparel, which they did with the most scrupulous exactness. But, observing that I had one waistcoat under another, they insisted that I should cast them both off; and at last, to make sure work, stripped me quite naked. Even my half-boots, though the sole of one of them was tied on to my foot with a broken bridle-rein, were minutely inspected. While they were examining the plunder, I begged them with great earnestness to return my pocket-compass; but when I pointed it out to them, as it was lying on the ground, one of the banditti, thinking I was about to take it up, cocked his musket, and swore he would lay me dead upon the spot if I presumed to put my hand upon it. After this, some of them went away with my horse, and the remainder stood considering whether they should leave me quite naked, or allow me something to shelter me from the sun. Humanity at last prevailed; they returned me the worst of the two shirts and a pair of trousers; and, as they went away, one of them threw back my hat, in the crown of which I kept my memorandums; and this was probably the reason why they did not wish to keep it.”

This was the most terrible misfortune that had hitherto befallen him, and at first, his mind appeared to sink under the united influence of grief and terror. For a while he sat in sullen dejection, half-persuaded that he had no alternative but to lie down and perish. Presently, however, thoughts of religion, and a reliance upon Providence, succeeding this extreme dejection, his mind gradually regained its fervent tone:--

“I was, indeed, a stranger,” he thought, “in a strange land; yet I was still under the protecting eye of that Providence, who has condescended to call himself the stranger’s friend. At this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty of a small moss in fructification irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this to show from what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation; for though the whole plant was not larger than the top of one of my fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsula without admiration. Can that Being (thought I) who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own image? Surely not! Reflections like these would not allow me to despair; I started up, and, disregarding both danger and fatigue, travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not disappointed.”

On arriving at Sibidooloo, Park related to the mansa, or chief of the town, the misfortune which had befallen him. This humane and excellent man, having heard him patiently to an end, took the pipe from his mouth, and tossing up the sleeve of his coat with an indignant air, “Sit down,” said he, “you shall have every thing restored to you; I have sworn it.” He then took the necessary measures for the recovery of the traveller’s property, and invited him to partake of his hospitable fare until this should have been effected. After spending a few days at this place, without hearing any news of his horse or other property, our traveller removed to a distant village, where he remained until the whole was discovered and restored to him, with the exception of his pocket compass, which had been broken to pieces. Having nothing else to bestow upon his hospitable landlords, he gave his horse to one, and his saddle and bridle to the other: and then taking his leave, proceeded on foot to Kamalia. At this town, romantically situated at the foot of a lofty mountain, he found a slave-merchant, who, intending to descend to the coast with a small caravan in the beginning of the dry season, offered our traveller an asylum until he should set out. Conceiving that it would be impossible to proceed during the rains, Park accepted his kind proposal, and promised in return to give him the price of a slave upon their arrival on the coast. Here a fever, which had for some time menaced him, manifested itself with great violence, and continued to torment him during the whole season of the rains. His landlord, meanwhile, exerted himself to keep up his hopes, and having by some means or another obtained possession of an English Common Prayer Book, he communicated the use of it to Park, who was thus enabled to beguile the gloomy hours of his solitude and sickness. At length the rains became less frequent, and the fever abated, so that he could move out to enjoy the fresh air in the fields.

On the 19th of April, Karfa, the slave-merchant, having collected his slaves, and completed all necessary preparations, set out towards the coast, taking our traveller, to whom his behaviour had always been marked by the greatest kindness, along with him. Their road led them across a vast wilderness, where the sufferings of every member of the caravan, and more particularly of the slaves, were most exquisite; but affliction was far from having taught them commiseration, for a fine young female slave, fainting from fatigue, had no sooner signified her inability to go on, than the universal cry of the caravan was, “cut her throat, cut her throat.” By the interposition of Karfa her life was spared, but she was abandoned on the road, where she was no doubt soon devoured by wild beasts. At length, after a long, toilsome journey, Karfa succeeded in fulfilling his promise, and conducted our traveller safe to Pisania, where the good old man was overwhelmed with the gratitude of his guest. Park now took his passage in an American vessel, and on arriving in the West Indies, quitted this ship for a packet bound for Falmouth, where he arrived on the 22d of December, 1797, after an absence of two years and seven months.

Immediately on his landing he hastened to London, where he arrived before daylight on the morning of Christmas-day. It being too early an hour to call on his brother-in-law, Mr. Dickson, he strolled about for some time in the neighbouring streets. At length, finding one of the entrances into the gardens of the British Museum accidentally open, he went in and walked about there for some time. It happened that Mr. Dickson, who had the care of those gardens, went there early that morning on some trifling business. What must have been his emotions on beholding, at that extraordinary time and place, the vision, as it must at first have appeared, of his long lost friend, the object of so many anxious reflections, and whom he had long numbered with the dead.

He was now received with distinguished honour by the African Association, and the various literary men whom he met with in London. In the mean time his travels, which the Association permitted him to publish on his own account, were announced; and both during his stay in London, and the visit which he paid to his friends in Scotland, all his leisure hours were devoted to the compiling and arranging of the materials for the work. It appeared in the spring of 1799, and immediately acquired that degree of popularity which it has ever since maintained. In the composition of his travels, however, he was assisted by Bryan Edwards, author of a “History of the West Indies,” an advocate of the slave-trade, in deference to whom Park is said to have suppressed his own opinions, which had a contrary tendency. The apology offered for this mean compliance is, that Bryan Edwards, being secretary to the African Association, had it in his power greatly to influence the future fortunes of our traveller. I should prefer supposing that his arguments produced a temporary conviction upon Park’s mind, unless some more convincing proof than has yet been brought forward could be adduced to substantiate the accusation of so remarkable a deficiency of moral courage in a man in whom, on all other occasions, courage seemed to be the prevailing virtue.

However this may be, Park again returned to Scotland soon after the publication of his travels, where, on the 2d of August, 1799, he married one of the daughters of Mr. Anderson, of Selkirk, with whom he had served his apprenticeship. He now seemed to have forgotten his ambitious feelings, and for more than two years resided on the farm at Fowlshiels, with his mother and one of his brothers. He then removed to the town of Peebles, where he resumed the practice of his profession, and seems, in a short time, to have acquired a good share of the business of the place. But it will easily be imagined that the quiet obscure life of a country surgeon could possess no charms for an ardent ambitious mind like Park’s. He longed to be performing upon some more stirring scene. In this dreary solitude, therefore, where the indulgence of day-dreams would appear to have been his principal amusement, scheme after scheme seems to have presented itself to his mind, each giving way in its turn to another equally impracticable. At length he received, through the medium of Sir Joseph Banks, intelligence that the African Association were once more about to send a mission into the interior of Africa, for the purpose of penetrating to and navigating the Niger; and that, in case government should enter into the plan, he himself would certainly be recommended as the person proper to be employed for carrying it into execution.

Dilatoriness is too frequently the characteristic of the proceedings of great public bodies. The first idea of this new mission was conceived in 1801, but it was not until the beginning of 1805 that the expedition was ultimately determined on, when Park received from Lord Camden his appointment as its chief conductor. “For the better enabling you to execute this service,” says his lordship, “his majesty has granted you the brevet commission of 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 draughtsman. 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 in the expedition.”

Five thousand pounds were at the same time placed at Park’s disposal, and further directions given him respecting the course and line of conduct he was expected to pursue. With these instructions Park and his companions proceeded to Portsmouth, where they were joined by four or five artificers, appointed for the service from the dock-yards. They sailed on the 30th of January, and on the 28th of April arrived at Pisania. Here they made preparations for entering the interior. The party consisted of forty men, two lieutenants, a draughtsman, a guide, and Park himself. Their provisions and merchandise were carried by asses, and they had horses for themselves. Thus appointed, they left Pisania on the 4th of May. It was very quickly discovered, however, that their asses were unequal to the task imposed upon them; some lay down, others kicked off their burdens, and it became necessary to increase the number of these vicious animals.

At Bady, a town in the interior frontier of Woolli, they were led into a quarrel with the farauba, or chief of the town, respecting the amount of duties to be paid by their caravan, in which, though the conduct of the African was rude and peremptory, the travellers were clearly in the wrong. A few days after this affair the caravan had an adventure with a new species of enemy. On the 24th of May they reached a place which they denominated Bee’s Creek, where they halted with the intention of encamping there. “We had no sooner unloaded the asses at the creek,” says Park, “than some of Isaaco’s people, being in search of honey, unfortunately disturbed a large swarm of bees near where the coffle had halted. The bees came out in immense numbers, and attacked men and beasts at the same time. Luckily, most of the asses were loose, and galloped up the valley; but the horses and people were very much stung, and obliged to scamper in all directions. The fire which had been kindled for cooking, having been deserted, spread and set fire to the bamboos; and our baggage had like to have been burnt. In fact, for half an hour the bees seemed to have put an end to our journey.

“In the evening, when the bees became less troublesome, and we could venture to collect our cattle, we found that many of them were very much stung and swelled about the head. Three asses were missing; one died in the evening and one next morning, and we were compelled to leave one at Sibikillin; in all six: besides which, our guide lost his horse, and many of the people were very much stung about the face and hands.”

About the middle of June the rains began to set in, accompanied by violent tornadoes. The earth was quickly covered with water. The soldiers were affected with vomiting, or with an irresistible inclination to sleep. Our traveller himself was affected in a similar manner during the storm, and, notwithstanding that he used every exertion to keep away heaviness, at length fell asleep on the damp ground. The soldiers did the same thing. In the morning twelve of them were sick. In this vicinity he saw many pits, from which gold was obtained in large quantities by washing. As the caravan proceeded, many of the soldiers growing delirious, or too weak to continue the march, were left behind to the care of the natives; while others died on the road, or were drowned in the rivers. Some, still more unfortunate if possible, were lost in the woods, where they were no doubt devoured by wild beasts. Meanwhile the natives, who imagined that the caravan contained prodigious wealth, hung upon their march, plundered them at every turn, and as often as they appeared too weak to resist, endeavoured to extort presents from them.

The condition of the men now became desperate. Day after day some poor wretch was abandoned to his fate, some in one way, some in another. I give one example which may serve for the whole. “Three miles east of the village of Koombandi,” says Park, “William Alston, one of the seamen whom I received from his majesty’s ship Squirrel, became so faint that he fell from his ass, and allowed the ass to run away. Set him on my horse, but found he could not sit without holding him. Replaced him on the ass, but he still tumbled off. Put him again on the horse, and made one man hold him upright while I led the horse; but, as he made no exertion to hold himself erect, it was impossible to keep him on the horse, and after repeated tumbles he begged to be left in the woods till morning. I left a loaded pistol with him, and put some cartridges into the crown of his hat.”

In crossing the Wondu the caravan was nearly deprived of its guide in the following manner: “Our guide, Isaaco, was very active in pushing the asses into the water, and shoving along the canoe; but as he was afraid that we could not have them all carried over in the course of the day, he attempted to drive six of the asses across the river farther down, where the water was shallower. When he had reached the middle of the river, a crocodile rose close to him, and instantly seizing him by the left thigh, pulled him under water. With wonderful presence of mind he felt the head of the animal, and thrust his finger into its eye, on which it quitted its hold, and Isaaco attempted to reach the farther shore, calling loudly for a knife. But the crocodile returned and seized him by the other thigh, and again pulled him under water; he had recourse to the same expedient, and thrust his fingers into its eyes with such violence that it again quitted him; when it arose, flounced about on the surface of the water as if stupid, and then swam down the middle of the river. Isaaco proceeded to the other side, bleeding very much.”

This event retarded for several days the march of the caravan. Besides, Park himself was attacked with fever, and their provisions, moreover, were now reduced to so low an ebb, that upon examination it was found that no more than rice for two days remained in their possession. This deficiency was, therefore, to be immediately supplied. Two persons were sent away with an ass to a distant village for rice, and in the mean time our traveller devoted his attentions to the wounds of the guide. The sailor who had been abandoned in the woods here rejoined the caravan quite naked, having been robbed of his clothes by the natives. The audacity of these thieves was extraordinary. In ascending an eminence two miles from Maniakono, Park himself was robbed in a very characteristic manner:--“As I was holding my musket carelessly in my hand, and looking round,” says he, “two of Numma’s sons came up to me; one of them requested me to give him some snuff; at this instant the other (called Woosaba), coming up behind me, snatched the musket from my hand, and ran off with it. I instantly sprung from the saddle and followed him with my sword, calling to Mr. Anderson to ride back, and tell some of the people to look after my horse. Mr. Anderson got within musket-shot of him; but, seeing it was Numma’s son, had some doubts about shooting him, and called to me if he should fire. Luckily I did not hear him, or I might possibly have recovered my musket at the risk of a long palaver, and perhaps the loss of half our baggage. The thief accordingly made his escape among the rocks; and when I returned to my horse, I found the other of the royal descendants had stolen my coat.”

Their condition was now exceedingly distressing. Not only the soldiers and sailors, but Scott and Anderson began to lag behind, being attacked by fever, the first effect of which in those countries is to deprive the sufferer of his energies. Having remained for some time by the wayside with his dying friend, he placed him, when his strength appeared for a moment to return, upon his horse, and pushed forward towards their proposed halting-place, leading the horse by the bridle. “We had not proceeded above a mile,” says Park, “before we heard on our left a noise very much like the barking of a large mastiff, but ending in a hiss like the fuff[1] of a cat. I thought it must be some large monkey; and was observing to Mr. Anderson, ‘What a bouncing fellow that must be,’ when we heard another bark nearer to us, and presently a third still nearer, accompanied with a growl. I now suspected some wild beast meant to attack us, but could not conjecture of what species it was likely to be. We had not proceeded a hundred yards farther, when, coming to an opening in the bushes, I was not a little surprised to see three lions coming towards us. They were not so red as the lion I had formerly seen in Bambarra, but of a dusky colour, like that of an ass. They were very large, and came bounding over the long grass, not one after another, but all abreast of each other. I was afraid, if I allowed them to come too near us, and my piece should miss fire, that we should all be devoured by them. I therefore let go the bridle, and walked forwards to meet them. As soon as they were within a long shot of me, I fired at the centre one. I do not think I hit him; but they all stopped, looked at each other, and then bounded away a few paces, when one of them stopped and looked back at me. I was too busy in loading my piece to observe their motions as they went away, and was very happy to see the last of them march slowly off among the bushes. We had not proceeded above half a mile farther when we heard another bark and growl close to us among the bushes. This was, doubtless, one of the lions before seen; and I was afraid they would follow us till dark, when they would have too many opportunities of springing on us unawares. We however heard no more of them.”

[1] _Fuff_ is an expressive Scotch word, applicable in its original sense to the explosive noise which a cat makes in flying at a dog.