DESPAIRING THOUGHTS—ARRIVAL AT SIBIDOOLOO.
ON my arrival at Taffara I inquired for the dooty, but was informed that
he had died a few days before my arrival, and that there was at that
moment a meeting of the chief men for electing another, there being some
dispute about the succession. It was probably owing to this unsettled
state of the town that I experienced such a want of hospitality in it,
for though I informed the inhabitants that I should only remain with them
for one night, and assured them that Mansong had given me some kowries to
pay for my lodging, yet no person invited me to come in, and I was forced
to sit alone under the bentang-tree, exposed to the rain and wind of a
tornado, which lasted with great violence until midnight. At this time
the stranger who had assisted me in crossing the river paid me a visit,
and observing that I had not found a lodging, invited me to take part of
his supper, which he had brought to the door of his hut; for, being a
guest himself, he could not, without his landlord’s consent, invite me to
come in. After this I slept upon some wet grass in the corner of a
court. My horse fared still worse than myself, the corn I purchased
being all expended, and I could not procure a supply.
_August_ 20.—I passed the town of Jaba, and stopped a few minutes at a
village called Somino, where I begged and obtained some coarse food,
which the natives prepare from the husks of corn, and call _boo_. About
two o’clock I came to the village of Sooha, and endeavoured to purchase
some corn from the dooty, who was sitting by the gate, but without
success. I then requested a little food by way of charity, but was told
he had none to spare. Whilst I was examining the countenance of this
inhospitable old man, and endeavouring to find out the cause of the
sullen discontent which was visible in his eye, he called to a slave who
was working in the cornfield at a little distance, and ordered him to
bring his hoe along with him. The dooty then told him to dig a hole in
the ground, pointing to a spot at no great distance. The slave, with his
hoe, began to dig a pit in the earth, and the dooty, who appeared to be a
man of very fretful disposition, kept muttering and talking to himself
until the pit was almost finished, when he repeatedly pronounced the
words “_dankatoo_” (“good for nothing”)—“_jankra lemen_” (“a real
plague”)—which expressions I thought could be applied to nobody but
myself; and as the pit had very much the appearance of a grave, I thought
it prudent to mount my horse, and was about to decamp, when the slave,
who had before gone into the village, to my surprise returned with the
corpse of a boy about nine or ten years of age, quite naked. The negro
carried the body by a leg and an arm, and threw it into the pit with a
savage indifference which I had never before seen. As he covered the
body with earth, the dooty often expressed himself, “_naphula attiniata_”
(“money lost”), whence I concluded that the boy had been one of his
slaves.
Departing from this shocking scene, I travelled by the side of the river
until sunset, when I came to Koolikorro, a considerable town, and a great
market for salt. Here I took up my lodging at the house of a Bambarran,
who had formerly been the slave of a Moor, and in that character had
travelled to Aroan, Towdinni, and many other places in the Great Desert;
but turning Mussulman, and his master dying at Jenné, he obtained his
freedom and settled at this place, where he carries on a considerable
trade in salt, cotton cloth, &c. His knowledge of the world had not
lessened that superstitious confidence in saphies and charms which he had
imbibed in his earlier years, for when he heard that I was a Christian,
he immediately thought of procuring a saphie, and for this purpose
brought out his _walha_, or writing-board, assuring me that he would
dress me a supper of rice if I would write him a saphie to protect him
from wicked men. The proposal was of too great consequence to me to be
refused. I therefore wrote the board full, from top to bottom, on both
sides; and my landlord, to be certain of having the whole 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 this powerful
draught; after which, lest a single word should escape, he licked the
board until it was quite dry. A saphie-writer was a man of too great
consequence to be long concealed; the important information was carried
to the dooty, who sent his son with half a sheet of writing-paper,
desiring me to write him a _naphula saphie_ (a charm to procure wealth).
He brought me, as a present, some meal and milk, and when I had finished
the saphie, and read it to him with an audible voice, he seemed highly
satisfied with his bargain, and promised to bring me in the morning some
milk for my breakfast. When I had finished my supper of rice and salt, I
laid myself down upon a bullock’s hide, and slept very quietly until
morning, this being the first good meal and refreshing sleep that I had
enjoyed for a long time.
_August_ 21.—At daybreak I departed from Koolikorro, and about noon
passed the villages of Kayoo and Toolumbo. In the afternoon I arrived at
Marraboo, a large town, and, like Koolikorro, famous for its trade in
salt. I was conducted to the house of a Kaartan, of the tribe of Jower,
by whom I was well received. This man had acquired a considerable
property in the slave-trade, and, from his hospitality to strangers, was
called, by way of pre-eminence, _jatee_ (the landlord), and his house was
a sort of public inn for all travellers. Those who had money were well
lodged, for they always made him some return for his kindness, but those
who had nothing to give were content to accept whatever he thought
proper; and as I could not rank myself among the moneyed men, I was happy
to take up my lodging in the same hut with seven poor fellows who had
come from Kancaba in a canoe. But our landlord sent us some victuals.
_August_ 22—One of the landlord’s servants went with me a little way from
the town to show me what road to take, but, whether from ignorance or
design I know not, he directed me wrong, and I did not discover my
mistake until the day was far advanced, when, coming to a deep creek, I
had some thoughts of turning back, but as by that means I foresaw that I
could not possibly reach Bammakoo before night, I resolved to cross it,
and, leading my horse close to the brink, I went behind him and pushed
him headlong into the water, and then taking the bridle in my teeth, swam
over to the other side. About four o’clock in the afternoon, having
altered my course from the river towards the mountains, I came to a small
pathway which led to a village called Frookaboo, where I slept.
_August_ 23—Early in the morning I set out for Bammakoo, at which place I
arrived about five o’clock in the afternoon. I had heard Bammakoo much
talked of as a great market for salt, and I felt rather disappointed to
find it only a middling town, not quite so large as Marraboo; however,
the smallness of its size is more than compensated by the richness of its
inhabitants, for when the Moors bring their salt through Kaarta or
Bambarra, they constantly rest a few days at this place, and the negro
merchants here, who are well acquainted with the value of salt in
different kingdoms, frequently purchase by wholesale, and retail it to
great advantage. Here I lodged at the house of a Serawoolli negro, and
was visited by a number of Moors. They spoke very good Mandingo, and
were more civil to me than their countrymen had been. One of them had
travelled to Rio Grande, and spoke very highly of the Christians. He
sent me in the evening some boiled rice and milk. I now endeavoured to
procure information concerning my route to the westward from a slave
merchant who had resided some years on the Gambia. He gave me some
imperfect account of the distance, and enumerated the names of a great
many places that lay in the way, but withal told me that the road was
impassable at this season of the year: he was even afraid, he said, that
I should find great difficulty in proceeding any farther; as the road
crossed the Joliba at a town about half a day’s journey to the westward
of Bammakoo, and there being no canoes at that place large enough to
receive my horse, I could not possibly get him over for some months to
come. This was an obstruction of a very serious nature; but as I had no
money to maintain myself even for a few days, I resolved to push on, and
if I could not convey my horse across the river, to abandon him, and swim
over myself. In thoughts of this nature I passed the night, and in the
morning consulted with my landlord how I should surmount the present
difficulty. He informed me that one road still remained, which was
indeed very rocky, and scarcely passable for horses, but that if I had a
proper guide over the hills to a town called Sibidooloo, he had no doubt
but with patience and caution I might travel forwards through Manding. I
immediately applied to the dooty, and was informed that a _jilli kea_
(singing man) was about to depart for Sibidooloo, and would show me the
road over the hills. With this man, who undertook to be my conductor, I
travelled up a rocky glen about two miles, when we came to a small
village, and here my musical fellow-traveller found out that he had
brought me the wrong road. He told me that the horse-road lay on the
other side of the hill, and throwing his drum on his back, mounted up the
rocks where, indeed, no horse could follow him, leaving me to admire his
agility, and trace out a road for myself. As I found it impossible to
proceed, I rode back to the level ground, and directing my course to the
eastward, came about noon to another glen, and discovered a path on which
I observed the marks of horses’ feet. Following this path I came in a
short time to some shepherds’ huts, where I was informed that I was in
the right road, but that I could not possibly reach Sibidooloo before
night.
A little before sunset I descended on the north-west side of this ridge
of hills, and as I was looking about for a convenient tree under which to
pass the night (for I had no hopes of reaching any town) I descended into
a delightful valley, and soon afterwards arrived at a romantic village
called Kooma. This village is surrounded by a high wall, and is the sole
property of a Mandingo merchant, who fled hither with his family during a
former war. The adjacent fields yield him plenty of corn, his cattle
roam at large in the valley, and the rocky hills secure him from the
depredations of war. In this obscure retreat he is seldom visited by
strangers, but whenever this happens he makes the weary traveller
welcome. I soon found myself surrounded by a circle of the harmless
villagers. They asked a thousand questions about my country, and, in
return for my information, brought corn and milk for myself, and grass
for my horse, kindled a fire in the hut where I was to sleep, and
appeared very anxious to serve me.
_August_ 25.—I departed from Kooma, accompanied by two shepherds who were
going towards Sibidooloo. The road was very steep and rocky, and as my
horse had hurt his feet much in coming from Bammakoo, he travelled slowly
and with great difficulty, for in many places the ascent was so sharp,
and the declivities so great, that if he had made one false step he must
inevitably have been dashed to pieces. The shepherds being anxious to
proceed, gave themselves little trouble about me or my horse, and kept
walking on at a considerable distance. It was about eleven o’clock, as I
stopped to drink a little water at a rivulet (my companions being near a
quarter of a mile before me), that I heard some people calling to each
other, and presently a loud screaming, as from a person in great
distress. I immediately conjectured that a lion had taken one of the
shepherds, and mounted my horse to have a better view of what had
happened. The noise, however, ceased, and I rode slowly towards the
place from whence I thought it had proceeded, calling out, but without
receiving any answer. In a little time, however, I perceived one of the
shepherds lying among the long grass near the road, and though I could
see no blood upon him, I concluded he was dead. But when I came close to
him, he whispered to me to stop, telling me that a party of armed men had
seized upon his companion, and shot two arrows at himself as he was
making his escape. I stopped to consider what course to take, and
looking round, saw at a little distance a man sitting upon the stump of a
tree. I distinguished also the heads of six or seven more, sitting among
the grass, with muskets in their hands. I had now no hopes of escaping,
and therefore determined to ride forward towards them. As I approached
them, I was in hopes they were elephant-hunters; and by way of opening
the conversation inquired if they had shot anything, but without
returning an answer one of them ordered me to dismount, and then, as if
recollecting himself, waved with his hand for me to proceed. I
accordingly rode past, and had with some difficulty crossed a deep
rivulet, when I heard somebody holloa, and looking behind, saw those I
had taken for elephant-hunters running after me, and calling out to me to
turn back. I stopped until they were all come up, when they informed me
that the king of the Foulahs had sent them on purpose to bring me, my
horse, and everything that belonged to me, to Fooladoo, and that
therefore I must turn back and go along with them. Without hesitating a
moment, I turned round and followed them, and we travelled together
nearly a quarter of a mile without exchanging a word; when, coming to a
dark place in a wood, one of them said in the Mandingo language, “This
place will do,” and immediately snatched my hat from my head. Though I
was by no means free of apprehension, yet I 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 his knife, and seizing upon a metal button
which remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off and put it into his pocket.
Their intentions were obvious, and I thought that the easier they were
permitted to rob me of everything, 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, they
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. Whilst 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 that 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 they did not wish to keep
it. After they were gone, I sat for some time looking round me with
amazement and terror. Whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but
danger and difficulty. I saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness,
in the depth of the rainy season—naked and alone, surrounded by savage
animals, and men still more savage. I was five hundred miles from the
nearest European settlement. All these circumstances crowded at once on
my recollection, and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I
considered my fate as certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie
down and perish. The influence of religion, however, aided and supported
me. I reflected that no human prudence or foresight could possibly have
averted my present sufferings. I was indeed a stranger 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 hunger and
fatigue, travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was
not disappointed. In a short time I came to a small village, at the
entrance of which I overtook the two shepherds who had come with me from
Kooma. They were much surprised to see me; for they said they never
doubted that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered me.
Departing from this village, we travelled over several rocky ridges, and
at sunset arrived at Sibidooloo, the frontier town of the kingdom of
Manding.