IV

So they paid their way through Sangnonagagy and Saamcolo (where there

was a "grand palaver" to rescue Isaaco's dog, which had bitten a man

and been condemned to die), on to Diggichoucoumee, a place as long as

its name, which took them four days to get through. It took still

longer to get clear of the next village of Dramana, for the family of

one of his wives came up and bitterly opposed her going with him on a

journey so hazardous. There was another "grand palaver." In the end

Isaaco lost his temper and divorced his wife; and, as the law required

her to return what she had received at marriage, he came rather well

out of it--to be exact, with a bullock and four sheep. A little

further on Isaaco met an Arab with an exceptionally fine mare, which

he bought with his wife's dowry and so consoled himself. He found the

mare more tractable than a wife with obstinate relations. After this

episode the pace of the party mended. Numbers of villages with

unpronounceable names were hurried through. The river Senegal was

crossed, and a country entered, that of Bambarra, where only women

could be found. Every man, even the children and the aged, had gone

away with the army. At the ill-sounding place Ourigiague, just beyond,

they were royally entertained. A whole bullock was roasted for them.

So, too, at Medina, where they were forced to waste twelve days and

devour five sheep, because one of Isaaco's servants made off with the

aforesaid mare and Isaaco's precious musket. A trustier servant was

despatched on his trail. In due time he returned with the mare and the

musket, and preferred not to say what had happened to the thief. The

petty kingdom of Casso, which they came to next, proved very trying.

There were six rivers to cross, full (says Isaaco) of alligators and

hippopotami. There was the forbidding rock of Tap-Pa in the desert of

Maretoumane to get by. And there was the mountain of Lambatara, on the

top of which they were attacked by a cloud of bees. Maddened with the

stings, the Negroes ran everywhere; the mules broke loose and threw

their packs down the hill. Poor Isaaco had to collect them all,

physick the dying and distressed, and number the living and the lost.

At nightfall he slept like a log "under a monkey-bread tree." The

following day was darkened by an ominous message from the King of

Bambarra. There was evidently trouble brewing ahead. To gain some

friendship in the capital, Isaaco decided to bribe. To Sabila, the

Chief of the King's slaves, he sent a pair of scissors, a snuff-box,

and a looking-glass, and desired to be his friend. And to his old

friend Allasana Bosiara, then ambassador at Bambarra from the King of

Sego, he sent a piece of silver "as a mark of being near him," and

begged him not to leave until he was in safety. As he drew nearer,

other signs made Isaaco convinced that "something unpleasant was

planning." He was refused lodgings and water by the chiefs. A friendly

merchant who had travelled under his protection was secretly warned to

take himself and his goods away before it was too late. Thereupon

Isaaco retired to another monkey-bread tree, ringed his little company

about with muskets, double-barrelled guns, and assegais and "waited

for what should happen." The following morning the King tempted them

away with the friendliest of welcomes and gave them lodging and water

at Wassaba, near the Royal Palace. His suggestion, however, that

Isaaco should sleep separately from his people, was courteously but

firmly declined. Indeed, Isaaco left nothing to chance. He first

fortified the lodgings assigned to him, and then set out to find

Sabila. But the King's spies who dogged his steps gave him the wrong

directions, and at last he abandoned the quest. It seemed clear that

Sabila did not wish him well. The next day the King sent word that he

would like to see Isaaco. It had to be. Taking his life in his hands,

as he had done a thousand times before, the old guide mounted his

horse and rode off to the royal quarters. On the way, a friend

whispered to him that he was betrayed; and on no account must he tell

the King that he was bound with presents to the King of Sego; for

there was not a being he hated and feared so much as that monarch, who

usurped his rightful throne. "But," replied Isaaco, "he knows already

I am bound there. To Sego I was sent and to Sego I must go unless

force or death prevents." Arrived at the King's door, Isaaco was told

that he was sleeping (yet another ruse) and that he must remain in the

guard-room. It was then about sunset. For hours Isaaco waited, but the

King slept on and not a soul of Isaaco's friends in the capital came

to relieve his suspense. They knew he was marked down to die. "The

only person," he writes, "who came to comfort me was a Griot, that is,

a dancing woman. On leaving me she went, as I afterwards learned, to

the Ambassadors of Sego and said to them: 'Oh! me, oh! me, my back is

broke (which is an expression of sorrow among the Cassoukes). They are

going to kill Isaaco.'"

V

Meantime, as the guards were dancing, singing, and drinking, Isaaco

stole out unperceived and made good use of his time. To the keeper of

the inn, with whom he had formerly stayed, and who had some influence

with the King, he gave one of his wives' necklaces and seven grains of

coral. From him he went to Madiguijou, a Counsellor of State,

explained his mission to Sego, and hinted what Governor Maxwell would

do if he were put to death. He even crept into Sabila's hut, and told

him the same thing; but the chief of the slaves smiled and promised

nothing. Isaaco plied him with more amber No. 1, but he "smiled and

smiled and still remained a villain." Then Isaaco thought it wiser to

get back into the guard-room, before the drunken soldiers grew sober

and looked for him. In the morning he played his last card by getting

into touch with the Ambassadors from Sego. These distinguished

gentlemen were by no means eager to take on the burden of his

protection, but Isaaco bade them know that the present which Mungo

Park had promised King Mansong, he (Isaaco) was commissioned to bring

to their King Dacha, his son. If they were determined to go without

him, they might do so; but whether he lived or died they should hear

of it at Sego. That fetched them. They were by no means pleased with

the picture Isaaco drew of their sufferings, and proceeded to save

themselves by saving him. As the King their master could simply eat up

the King of Bambarra and his army at one swallow, they commanded the

release of Isaaco and twenty men to conduct him on his way. At this

peremptory message, King Figuing Coroba found it politic to wake, and

summoned Isaaco to his presence. The latter obeyed, went through the

highest salutations, and proffered a tin box by way of asking: "Is it

peace?" But there was no sign of peace. The King suddenly lost his

temper, raged at the King of Sego, and, swearing he would seize

everything Isaaco possessed, hurled the tin box at his head. Isaaco

discreetly withdrew, while Sabila promised to pour oil on the troubled

waters. The next day Isaaco, not the least daunted, presented himself

with the aforesaid tin box and in addition a quantity of amber, and

gunpowder, and the horse Robert Ainsley had given him. Sabila was

bribed once more, and the King's singer was won over with a snuff-box.

At the sight of his share, the King's anger melted like wax, and he

not only gave Isaaco leave to depart that same day, but promised an

escort too.... Isaaco coolly answered that he was in no hurry and

would wait a day or two--an exhibition of nerve that quite astonished

the King. "You see," he said to Sabila, "Isaaco appears to be a

courageous man. If he had been of a weak-spirited mind, he would have

run away and left his things in my hands." To confirm his friendship,

the King called up the heir to the throne, and made him swear

protection to Isaaco, an oath which the Prince hinted should be

cemented by the gift of a _cousaba_ or shirt. But Isaaco delicately

replied that he had none quite clean enough to present. When he

returned to his own country, he swore to bring him a new one. So

Isaaco triumphed and returned to his own people, who were mourning him

as dead. Nor did he come empty-handed, for he met a man on the way who

wanted a priestly charm or amulet (_grisgris_). Isaaco scribbled an

Arabic prayer on a leaf and received a bullock in exchange. This he

slaughtered forthwith, feasted his large family, and made a sacrifice

of thanksgiving to his god.