dismounted and desired his companions to ride on, telling them he would
follow; but they declined leaving him, declaring that lions were
numerous, and that, though they would not attack a body of people, they
would soon find out a single individual and destroy him. One of the
party, therefore, insisted on remaining with him, and he and his friend,
after he had rested, overtook their companions, passing through several
of the numerous towns in this part of the country. His horse, now
becoming weaker and weaker, he was obliged to drive the animal on before
him the greater part of the day, so that he did not reach Geosorro till
late in the evening. The _dooty_ of the place refused to give him or
his companions food, so he lay down supperless to sleep. Their host,
however, relented, and about midnight he was awakened with the joyful
information that victuals were prepared.
Next day his fellow-travellers, having better horses, went on ahead, and
he was walking barefoot, driving his own poor animal before him, when he
met a coffle, or caravan, of about seventy slaves coming from Sego.
They were tied together by their necks with thongs of bullock's hide
twisted like a rope, seven slaves upon a thong, and a man with a musket
between every seven. They were bound for Morocco.
On arriving at the next place he found that his companions had gone on
without him, but he fell in, the following day, with two negroes going
to Sego, who afforded him their company.
In the village through which he passed he was constantly taken for a
Moor. The people jeered at him, laughing at his tattered and forlorn
appearance. He, however, again overtook the Kaartans, who promised to
introduce him to the king.
As they were riding along over some marshy ground, and he was anxiously
looking around for the river which he now supposed to be near, one of
his companions called out, "_Geo affilli_!" ("See water!") and, looking
forward, he saw with infinite pleasure the great object of his mission--
the long-sought-for majestic Niger, glittering in the morning sun, as
broad as the Thames at Westminster, and flowing slowly to the east. He
hastened to the brink, and having drunk of the water, offered up his
fervent thanks in prayer to the Great Ruler of all things for having
thus far crowned his endeavours with success.
Sego, the capital of Bambarra--at which he had now arrived--consists,
properly speaking, of four distinct towns: two on the north and two on
the south bank of the Niger. They are surrounded by high mud walls.
The houses are built of clay, of a square form with flat roofs--some of
them of two stories, and many of them are whitewashed. Moorish mosques
are seen in every quarter; and the streets, though narrow, are broad
enough for every useful purpose in a country where wheel-carriages are
unknown. It contains about thirty thousand inhabitants.
While waiting to cross the river, a messenger arrived, informing him
that the king could not possibly see him until he knew what had brought
him into the country, and that he must not venture to cross the river
without his majesty's permission. He was directed to pass the night in
a distant village; but when he reached it, no one would admit him. He
was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit all day
without food in the shade of a tree. He fully expected to have to pass
the night in the same place; but about sunset, after he had turned his
horse loose, a woman, perceiving that he was weary and dejected,
enquired into his situation. Casting looks of pity upon him, she took
up his saddle and bridle, and told him to follow her. Having conducted
him into her hut, she lighted her lamp, spread a mat on the floor and
signified that he might remain there for the night. Finding that he was
very hungry, she brought him a fine fish for supper. Having thus
attended to the stranger, telling him that he might sleep in safety she
called her women around her and desired them to resume their task of
spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ themselves the
greater part of the night, lightening their labours by songs, some of
which had reference to their white visitor.
Several days passed, when a messenger arrived from Mansong with a bag in
his hands. He told Park that it was his Majesty's pleasure he should
forthwith depart from the neighbourhood of Sego, but that the king,
wishing to relieve a white man in distress, had sent him five thousand
cowries. From the conversation Park had with the guide, he ascertained
that Mansong would willingly have seen him, but that he was apprehensive
of being unable to protect him against the blind and inveterate malice
of the Moorish inhabitants. His conduct, therefore, was at once prudent
and liberal.
He was the same evening conducted to a village about seven miles to the
eastward, where he was well received. His guide told him that if Jenne
was really the place of his destination, the journey was one of greater
danger than he might suppose; for, although that town was nominally a
part of the King of Bambarra's dominions, it was in fact a city of the
Moors--the chief part of the inhabitants being Bushreens, a fanatical
Mahommedan sect. He heard, too, that Timbuctoo, the great object of his
search, was entirely in possession of that savage and merciless people,
who allow no Christian to live there. He had, however, advanced too far
to think of returning with uncertain information, and he determined to
proceed.
Being provided with a guide, he left the village on the morning of the
24th, travelling through a highly cultivated country, the scenery
bearing a greater resemblance to that of England than he had expected to
find in the middle of Africa.
The people were everywhere employed in collecting the fruit of the shea
trees, from which they prepared vegetable butter. In the evening he
reached the large town of Sansanding, the resort of numerous Moorish
caravans from the shores of the Mediterranean. In the harbour he
observed twenty large canoes, and others arrived while he was there. He
was received into the house of the _dooty_, Counti Mamadi. Scarcely had
he arrived when hundreds of people surrounded him, all speaking
different dialects, several of them declaring that they had seen him in
various parts of the continent. It was evident that they mistook him
for somebody else. One of them, a _shereef_, from Suat, declared that
if he refused to go to the mosque he would carry him there. He had
little doubt that the Moor would have put his threat into execution had
not his host interposed in his behalf. The latter said that, if he
would let his guest alone for the night, in the morning he should be
sent about his business. This somewhat appeased them, but even after he
had retired to his hut the people climbed over the pailings to look at
him.
At midnight, when the Moors had retired, Mamadi paid him a visit and
earnestly desired him to write a _saphie_, or charm, observing, "If a
Moor's _saphie_ is good, a white man's must needs be better." Park
readily furnished him with one, which was in reality the Lord's Prayer,
a reed serving for a pen, charcoal and gum-water for ink and a thin
board for paper.
Allowed to proceed, as he and his guide were crossing an open plain with
a few scattered bushes, the guide wheeled his horse round, called loudly
to him and, warning him that a lion was at hand, made signs that he
should ride away. His horse was too much fatigued to do this, so they
rode slowly past the bush, and he, not seeing anything himself, thought
the guide had been mistaken. Suddenly the Foulah put his hand to his
mouth exclaiming, "God preserve us!" To his great surprise he then
perceived a large red lion a short distance from the bush, his head
couched between his fore paws. Park expected that the creature would
instantly spring upon him, and instinctively pulled his foot from the
stirrups to throw himself on the ground, that his horse might become the
victim rather than himself; but probably the lion was not hungry, for he
quietly allowed the traveller to pass though fairly within his reach.
The next day his horse completely broke down, and the united strength of
himself and his guide could not place the animal again upon his legs.
He sat down for some time beside the worn-out associate of his
adventures; but, finding him still unable to rise, he took off the
saddle and bridle and placed a quantity of grass before him. While he
surveyed his poor steed as he lay panting on the ground, he could not
suppress the sad apprehension that he should himself in a short time lie
down and perish in the same manner from fatigue and hunger. With this
foreboding he left his horse, and with great reluctance followed his
guide on foot along the banks of the river until he reached the small
village of Kea.
Here he parted from his Foulah guide, whom he requested to look after
his horse on his return, which he promised to do.
From Kea he went down the river in a canoe, and thence to Moorzan, a
fishing town on the northern bank, and was then conveyed across the
stream to Silla, a large town. Here, after much entreaty, the _dooty_
allowed him to enter his house to avoid the rain, but the place was damp
and he had a smart attack of fever. Worn down by sickness, exhausted
with hunger, and fatigued, half-naked, without any article of value by
which he could procure provisions, clothes, or lodgings, he began to
reflect seriously on his situation, and was convinced by painful
experience that the obstacles to his further progress were
insurmountable. The _dooty_ approved of the resolution he had arrived
at of returning, and procured a fisherman to carry him across to
Moorzan, whence he got back to Kea. The brother of the _dooty_ was
starting for Modiboo. He took his saddle, which he had left at Kea,
intending to present it to the king of Bambarra.
Travelling along the banks of the river, the footprints of a lion quite
fresh in the mud were seen. His companion, therefore, proceeded with
great circumspection, insisting that Park should walk before him. This
he declined doing, when his guide threw down the saddle and left him
alone. He therefore continued his course along the bank, and believing
that the lion was at no great distance, he became much alarmed, and took
a long circuit through the bushes.
He at last arrived at Modiboo. While conversing with the _dooty_ of the
place he heard a horse neigh in one of the huts. The _dooty_ inquired
with a smile if he knew who was speaking to him. He explained himself
by telling Park that his horse was still alive and somewhat recovered
from his fatigue, and that he must take the animal with him.
Though tolerably well treated at the villages where he stopped, he in
vain endeavoured to obtain a guide. The rains were now falling, and the
country, it was supposed, would soon be completely flooded. He heard
that a report had been abroad that he had come to Bambarra as a spy and
that, as Mansong had not admitted him into his presence, the _dooties_
of the different towns might treat him as they pleased.
A little before sunset of the 11th of August he reached Sansanding.
Here even Mamadi, who had formerly been so kind to him, scarcely gave
him a welcome, and everyone seemed to shun him. Mamadi, however, came
privately to him in the evening, and told him that Mansong had
despatched a canoe to bring him back, and advised him to set off from
Sansanding before daybreak, cautioning him not to stop at any town near
Sego. He therefore resumed his journey on the 12th, and in the
afternoon reached the neighbourhood of Kabba.
As he approached, one of several people who were standing at the gate
ran towards him and, taking his horse by the bridle, led him round the
walls of the town and, pointing to the west, told him to go along or it
would be the worse for him. He in vain represented the danger of being
benighted in the woods, exposed to the inclemency of the weather and the
fury of wild beasts. "Go along," was the only answer he received. He
found that these negroes had acted thus from kindness, as the king's
messengers who had come to seize him were inside the town.
Being repulsed from another village, he went on till he reached a small
one somewhat out of the road, and sat down under a tree by a well. Two
or three women came to draw water and, perceiving the stranger, enquired
where he was going. On Park telling them to Sego, one of them went in
to acquaint the _dooty_. In a little time the _dooty_ sent for him, and
permitted him to sleep in a large hut.
Next day he again set forward, meeting with the same inhospitable
treatment as before, and having for three days to subsist on uncooked
corn. He was repulsed in like manner from the gates of Taffara; and at
the village of Sooha, which he reached next day, he in vain endeavoured
to procure some corn from the _dooty_, who was sitting by the gate.
While Park was speaking to the old man, he called to a slave to bring
his paddle along with him, and when he brought it, told him to dig a
hole in the ground, pointing to a spot at no great distance. While
the slave was thus engaged, the _dooty_ kept muttering the
words--"Good-for-nothing! A real plague!" These expressions, coupled
with the appearance of the pit the lad had dug, which looked much like a
grave, made Park think it prudent to decamp. He had just mounted his
horse, when the slave who had gone into the village returned, dragging
the corpse of a boy by a leg and arm, which he threw into the pit with
savage indifference, and at once began to cover it up with earth.
At sunset Park reached Koohkorro, a considerable town, and the great
market for salt. Here he was received into the house of a Bambarran
who, once a slave to a Moor, had obtained his freedom and was now a
merchant. Finding that his guest was a Christian, he immediately
desired him to write a _saphie_, saying that he would dress him a supper
of rice if he would produce one to protect him from wicked men. Park
therefore covered the board on both sides, when his landlord, wishing to
have the full force of the charm, washed the writing from the board into
a calabash with a little water and, having said a few prayers over it,
drank the whole draught; after which, lest a single word should escape,
he licked the board until it was quite dry. The _dooty_ of the place
next sent to have a _saphie_ written--a charm to procure wealth. So
highly satisfied was he with his bargain that he presented the traveller
with some meal and milk, and promised him in the morning some more milk
for his breakfast.
When Park had finished his supper of rice and salt, he lay down upon a
bullock's hide and slept quietly until morning, this being the first
good meal and refreshing sleep he had enjoyed for a long time.
After leaving this place, having been misdirected as to his road, he
reached a deep creek. Rather than turn back, he went behind his horse
and pushed him headlong into the water; then, taking the bridle in his
teeth, he swam to the other side. This was the third creek he had
crossed in this manner since he had left Sego. His clothes were,
indeed, constantly wet from the rain and dew; and the roads being very
deep and full of mud, such a washing was sometimes pleasant.
At Bammakoo, which he reached on the evening of the next day, he was
received into the house of a negro merchant, of whom there are many
wealthy ones in the place, trading chiefly in salt. He was feasted also
by a number of Moors, who spoke good Mandingo, and were more civil to
him than their countrymen had before been. One of them had travelled to
Rio Grande, and spoke highly of the Christians. From this man he
received a present of boiled rice and milk. He also met a slave
merchant who had resided some years on the Gambia, who informed him
about the places which lay in his intended course to the westward. He
was told that the road was impassable at this season of the year, and
that there was a rapid river to cross. Having, however, no money to
maintain himself, Park determined at all risks to push on, and, having
obtained a singing man who said he knew the road over the hills, set off
the next day. His musical conductor, however, lost the right path and,
when among the hills, leaping to the top of a rock as if to look out for
the road, suddenly disappeared. Park managed, however, just before
sunset, to reach the romantic village of Koomah, the sole property of a
Mandingo merchant and surrounded by a high wall. Though seldom visited
by strangers, whenever the weary traveller did come to his residence the
merchant made him welcome.
Park was soon surrounded by the harmless villagers, who had numberless
questions to ask and in return for the information he gave them brought
corn and milk for himself and grass for his horse, and kindled a fire in
the hut where he was to sleep.
Accompanied by two shepherds as guides, he set out the next day from
Koomah. The shepherds, however, walked on ahead, troubling themselves
but little about him.
The country was very rough, and the declivity so great that a false step
would have caused him and his horse to be dashed to pieces.
As he was riding on, the shepherds being about a quarter of a mile
before him, he heard a loud screaming as from a person in great
distress. Supposing that a lion had taken off one of the shepherds, he
hurried on to ascertain what had happened. The noise had ceased, and in
a short time he perceived one of the shepherds lying among the long
grass near the road, and concluded that the man was dead; but when he
came close to him the shepherd whispered to him to stop, telling him
that a party of armed men had seized upon his companion and shot two
arrows at him. While considering what to do, he saw at a little
distance a man sitting upon the stem of a tree, and also the heads of
six or seven more who were crouching down among the grass, with muskets
in their hands. It being impossible to escape, he rode forward towards
them, hoping that they were elephant hunters. By way of opening the
conversation he inquired if they had shot anything; but in answer one of
them ordered him to dismount, and then, as if recollecting himself,
waved with his hand as a sign that Park might proceed. He had ridden
some way when they shouted to him again to stop, and told him that the
King of the Foulahs had sent them to carry him to Fooladoo. Without
hesitating, Park turned and followed them.
They had 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.