reached a dark part of the wood when one of them observed in the Mandingo language, “This place will do,” and immediately snatched his hat from his head. Feeling that resistance was useless, he allowed them to proceed till they had stripped him quite naked. While they were examining their plunder, Park begged them to return his pocket compass; but, on his pointing to it as it lay on the ground, one of the banditti cocked his musket, swearing that he would shoot him if he presumed to take it. After this some of them went away with his horse, and the remainder stood considering whether they should leave him quite naked or allow him something to shelter him from the sun. Humanity at last prevailed, and they returned the worst of his two shirts and a pair of trousers; one of them also threw back his hat, in the crown of which he kept his memorandums—probably the reason why they did not wish to keep it.
Here he was in the midst of a vast wilderness in the depth of the rainy season, naked and alone, and surrounded by savage animals and men still more savage, five hundred miles from the nearest European settlement. His spirits began to fail, but he reflected that no human prudence could possibly have averted his present sufferings, and that, though a stranger in a strange land, he was still under the protecting eye of that Providence who has condescended to call Himself the stranger’s friend. At this moment the extreme beauty of a small moss in fructification caught his eye. Though the whole plant was not much larger than the top of one of his fingers, he could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsules without admiration. “Can that Being,” he thought, “who brought this plant to perfection look with unconcern upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own image? Surely not.” He started up and, disregarding both hunger and fatigue, travelled forward, assured that relief was at hand.
In a short time he overtook the two shepherds who had come with him from Koomah. They were greatly surprised to see him, observing that they never doubted that the Foulahs had murdered him. In their company he arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of Manding. The chief man in the place, called Mansa, received him most kindly, and when Park related how he had been robbed of his horse and apparel, he observed, with an indignant air, “Sit down. You shall have everything restored to you—I have sworn it.” He at once gave directions to his people to search for the robbers. Park was conducted into a hut, where he was provided with food, and a crowd of people assembled, all of whom commiserated his misfortunes and vented imprecations against the Foulahs.
As there was a great scarcity of provisions in the place, Park, after spending two days there, begged Mansa to allow him to depart. He gave him permission to do so, provided he would remain at a town called Wanda for a few days, until he received some account of his horse and goods.
He took his departure accordingly on the morning of the 28th, and reached Wanda about noon of the 30th.
The head man of the place, who was a Mahommedan, acted not only as chief magistrate, but as schoolmaster. He kept his school in an open shed, where the traveller was desired to take up his lodgings. Park was very anxious for his clothes, as those he had on were completely worn-out, his shirt being like a piece of muslin and dirty in the extreme.
He here spent nine days suffering much from fever. On the 6th two people arrived from Sibidooloo, bringing his horse and clothes, but his pocket compass, greatly to his vexation, was broken to pieces.
Every day he observed several women come to the house to receive a certain quantity of corn. Knowing how valuable this article was at the present juncture, he enquired of his host whether he maintained these poor women from pure bounty or expected a return when the harvest should be gathered in.
“Observe that boy,” said he, pointing to a fine child about five years of age. “His mother has sold him to me for forty days’ provisions for herself and the rest of her family. I have bought another boy in the same manner.”
Sick as he was, Park thought it necessary to take his leave of his hospitable landlord, to whom he presented his horse as the only recompense he could make, desiring him to convey his saddle and bridle as a present to Mansa of Sibidooloo. As he was about to set out, his host begged him to accept his spear as a token of remembrance and a leather bag to contain his clothes. Having converted his half-boots into sandals, he travelled with more ease.
Although the people were suffering great distress from the failure of the crops, he was in general most hospitably treated. His landlord at Kinyeto, observing that he had hurt his ankle, insisted on his remaining several days till he could walk with the help of a staff.
Notwithstanding suffering from fever and exposed to constant rain, he continued his journey, narrowly escaping being detained at the town of Mansia by the inhospitable chief, who insisted on being paid for the small amount of food he had provided.
On September 16th he reached the town of Kamalia. He was here conducted to the house of a Bushreen, Kafa Taura. He was collecting a caravan of slaves to convey to the European settlements on the Gambia, as soon as the rains should be over. He found Kafa seated in his house surrounded by several slatees who proposed joining the caravan. He was reading to them from an Arabic book, and enquired if his guest understood it. On being answered in the negative, he desired one of the slatees to fetch a curious little book which had been brought from the west country. It proved to be a book of Common Prayer, and Kafa expressed great joy on hearing that Park could read it, for some of the slatees, observing the colour of his skin, now become yellow from sickness, suspected that he was an Arab in disguise. Kafa, however, had now no doubt concerning him, and kindly promised him every assistance in his power.
Park was here laid up completely by fever, but Kafa, who had provided a quiet hut for his accomodation, advised him to remain within it, assuring him that if he did not walk out in the wet he would soon be well.
He passed five weeks in a gloomy and solitary manner, seldom visited by any person except his benevolent landlord, who came daily to enquire about his health.
When the rains became less frequent the country began to grow dry and the fever left him, but in so debilitated condition that it was with difficulty he could crawl with his mat to the shade of a tamarind tree at a short distance, there to enjoy the refreshing smell of the corn-fields. The benevolent and simple manners of the negroes, and the perusal of Kafa’s little volume greatly contributed to his restoration.
In the beginning of December, Kafa began to make arrangements for his journey, and to complete the purchase of his slaves.
As he had to be absent about his affairs for a month, Park was left during the time to the care of a good old Bushreen, who acted as schoolmaster to the younger people of Kamalia.
The long-wished-for day of the departure of the caravan, the 19th of April, at length arrived, and the irons being removed from the slaves, the slatees assembled at the door of Kafa’s house, where the bundles were all tied up, and everyone had his load assigned him.
Kafa had twenty-seven slaves for sale, but eight others afterwards joined them, making in all thirty-five. The schoolmaster who was on his return to Woradoo, the place of his nativity, took with him eight of his scholars. Altogether, the come numbered seventy-three persons.
The caravan was followed for about half a mile by most of the inhabitants of Kamalia; and when they had arrived at the top of a hill, from whence they had a view of the town, they were all ordered to sit down—those belonging to the coffle with their faces towards the west, and the townspeople with theirs towards Kamalia. The schoolmaster, with two of the principal slatees, having taken their places between the two parties, pronounced a solemn prayer, after which they walked three times round the coffle, making impressions in the ground with the ends of their spears, and muttering something by way of a charm. When this ceremony was ended, all the people belonging to the coffle sprang up and, without taking a formal farewell of their friends, set forward.
Another ceremony was performed when the party stopped to dine on the road. Before commencing the meal, when each person was seated with their quotas arranged before him in small gourd shells, the schoolmaster offered up a short prayer that God and the holy prophet might preserve them from robbers and all bad people, that their provisions might never fail nor their limbs become fatigued.