_FROM THE GAMBIA TO THE SENEGAL._
The time had at last arrived for Park to start on his great undertaking.
In the beginning of October the Gambia had attained its greatest
height, or fifteen feet above the high-water mark of the tide, and then
had begun to subside rapidly, so that by the beginning of November
the river had sunk to its normal level. This was the time to travel.
The natives had reaped their crops, and food was cheap and plentiful.
The rains were over, the land well drained and dried, the atmosphere
less moist and oppressive--all of which circumstances combined to make
travelling more agreeable and infinitely more healthy.
At first Park had hoped to accompany a native caravan going into the
interior, but abandoned the idea on finding that he would have to wait
an indefinite period for such an escort. He therefore determined to
depend on his own resources rather than lose another good travelling
season.
On the 2nd December 1795 he was ready for the road. Accustomed as we
are to read of the huge caravans, the quantities of goods, stores,
ammunition, and instruments required by exploring expeditions to the
heart of Africa in these degenerate days, we cannot but be surprised
at the modest retinue and scanty _impedimenta_ which Park thought
necessary for his great task. His sole attendants were a negro servant
named Johnson, who had been to Jamaica as a slave, but being freed had
returned to his native country; and Demba, a slave boy belonging to Dr.
Laidley, who, besides Mandingo, spoke the language of one of the inland
tribes.
As beasts of burden Park had a small but hardy and spirited horse for
himself, and two donkeys for his servants. As baggage he had provisions
for two days; a small assortment of beads, amber, and tobacco for
the purchase of fresh supplies as needed; a few changes of linen and
other necessary articles of dress; an umbrella, a pocket sextant, a
magnetic compass, and a thermometer. For defensive purposes he was
provided with two fowling-pieces, two pairs of pistols, and some other
small weapons. Thus attended, thus provided, and thus armed, Mungo
Park started for the Heart of Africa--an uncertain bourne only to be
reached through deadly perils and frightful miseries and hardships. How
splendidly equipped he must have been with the real necessaries of the
hero--unflinching determination, ardent enthusiasm, Homeric resolve,
and absolute self-reliance. Thus provided with moral weapons and
stimulants he could rise superior to every difficulty and danger, and
emerge from the unequal struggle uncrushed, undefeated, bearing with
him not all, but much of the prize for which he had staked life itself.
Besides Johnson and Demba, Park had the advantage of the company of a
Mohammedan on his way to Bambarra, two slatees or slave-merchants going
to Bondou, and a blacksmith returning home to Kasson.
For the first two marches Dr. Laidley and two other Europeans
accompanied him on his way, feeling as if they were performing the
last offices for the dead, for they never expected to see him again.
On the 3rd of December he took leave of these kind friends, and turned
his face inland towards the east and the Unknown. As he rode slowly
into the woods, after breaking the last link which connected him with
Europe and civilisation, and took the road so lately traversed by Major
Houghton, he could not but recall that to the latter it had been a road
to death. Before him rose up pictures of repellent waterless deserts,
of trackless jungles, gloomy primeval forests, and miasmatic marshes
which had to be penetrated before his eyes would rest upon the river
Niger. Only too clearly he saw the dangers from man and beast which had
to be faced before he could ever hope to get once more in touch with
European civilisation. “Thoughts like these necessarily cast a gloom
over the mind, and I rode musingly along for about three miles, when
I was awakened from my reverie by a body of people who came running
up and stopped my asses.” And with his reflections thus broken by one
of the innumerable annoyances of African travel, they were not again
resumed.
For the first few marches there was little to note either in incidents
of travel or in aspects of man and nature. The scenery was pleasant,
though but slightly varied--gentle wooded acclivities everywhere,
alternating with cultivated interspaces surrounding towns and villages.
The inhabitants were Mandingoes, untroubled by the trammels of clothes,
Pagans for the most part, and confirmed spirit drinkers; the rest
Mohammedans, respectable in character, decent in dress and behaviour,
lovers of education and religion, haters of strong drink.
By both divisions of the community Park was hospitably received, and
treated to such simple fare and lodging as they themselves possessed.
With daily practice the fatigues of the way became less harassing,
while a keen appetite, and the knowledge that absolutely nothing else
was to be had, made otherwise coarse food seem palatable. Gradually a
new standard of comfort was formed on a scale proportionate to present
possibilities, so that at length positive enjoyment could be got out of
both food and lodging which previously would have been deemed repulsive
and miserable.
From the district of Walli Park entered that of Wuli. At Medina, the
capital of the latter, he was received kindly by the king, who strongly
dissuaded him from proceeding further east into countries where the
white man was unknown, and where the fate of Houghton might be his. But
Park was not to be discouraged, seeing which the king provided him with
a guide to take him on his way.
From Medina the route diverged from the Gambia, and passed E.N.E.
towards the Senegal. For some days nothing special characterised the
march. Everywhere, however, the explorer gets interesting glimpses of
the life and ways of the natives, of their genius for story-telling and
their forensic skill, or of their love of wrestling, an art in which
they are such adepts that he “thinks that few Europeans would have been
able to cope with the conqueror.”
At one place he finds that the men have a curious way of administering
disciplinary punishment to troublesome wives.
Evidently in the huge feminine establishments of the Mandingo husband
the ordinary human hand is unable to keep the women in due subjection
and order. The unfortunate husband with trouble in the house, and
afraid to tackle the offender or offenders in the ordinary manner, has
recourse to underhand ways. In every village a masquerading dress is
kept for the use of Mumbo Jumbo, a mysterious person whose business it
is to seek out and punish wayward wives. When a husband finds matters
becoming too hot for him in his household, he secretly possesses
himself of this dress and disappears into the woods. At nightfall
frightful noises are heard near the town--the signal that Mumbo Jumbo
is abroad. Terror falls upon every mutinous and erring member of the
frail yet troublesome sex, for no one knows on whom the rod shall
descend. None, however, dare to disobey the summons, for now they
have to deal with the devil himself, backed up by all the male powers
of the village. For the men the occasion is a joyous one--though not
so for the women. All hurry to the meeting-place to take part in the
proceedings, and unite in the active assertion of marital authority.
But the victim is not immediately pounced upon. The terrors and
uncertainties of conscious backsliders must be endured for hours,
cloaked beneath a well-simulated air of innocence and careless gaiety.
The time is spent in songs and dances, as if to celebrate the coming
detection of the rebel and the triumph of order and the principle of
masculine rule. About midnight the witch-like revelry ceases, and a
frost of uneasy silence falls upon the female throng. Who is to be the
victim? The next moment the question is practically answered, as one
of the number is seized, stripped naked, tied to a post, and severely
scourged amid the applause of the crowd, loudest among whom are the
ninety and nine other women, each of whom a moment before had thought
herself a possible sufferer.
A similar spirit is not unknown in our own country and times.
On the 11th December Mungo Park, without mishap or discouragement, had
reached Kujar, the frontier town of Wuli, to the east.
Between Wuli and Bondou, the next country, there lay a waterless
wilderness, two days’ march in extent. The guide from the King of Wuli
had here to return, and his place was taken by three elephant hunters.
At Kujar, Park found himself examined with an increased curiosity and
reverence, indicating a much less degree of familiarity with the white
man.
On the 12th the party started for the passage of the wilderness, minus
one of the guides, who had absconded with the money he had received
in advance. Before proceeding far the two remaining guides insisted
on stopping till they had ensured a safe journey by preparing a charm
which would divert all danger from them. The charm was simple enough,
and consisted in muttering a few sentences over a stone, which was
afterwards spat upon and thrown in the direction of travel--a process
repeated three times.
At midday the little party of travellers reached a tree, called by the
natives _Neema Faba_, which was hung all over with offerings of rags
and scraps of cloth to propitiate the evil spirit of the place. This
practice prevails throughout the length and breadth of savage Africa,
though Park appears to have mistaken its meaning, and thinking it due
to the desire of travellers to indicate that water was near, followed
their example by hanging on one of the boughs a handsome piece of
cloth. At the neighbouring pool, where they had proposed to camp,
signs of a recently extinguished fire made them suspicious of the
vicinity of robbers, and they therefore pushed ahead to the next well,
which they did not reach till eight in the evening.
For the first time the dangers and difficulties of his journey were
brought vividly home to Park when after a hard day’s work he and his
party had to lie out in the open, on the bare ground, surrounded by
their animals, and had to keep strict watch and ward for possible
attack. With daylight they filled their water-skins and calabashes and
set out for Falika, the western frontier town of Bondou, which they
reached before midday.
In Bondou, Park found new aspects of nature and other races of men.
For fertility the land was unsurpassed. Lying on the parting ridge
between the Gambia and the Senegal, it was better drained than the
country left behind, a fact evidenced by the appearance of the mimosa.
Towards the east it rose into ranges of hills.
Far different, too, were the Fulah inhabitants. A tawny complexion,
small, well-shaped features, and soft, silky hair, distinguished them
at a glance from the negro races around them. Among them Mohammedanism
was the prevailing religion, though not by any means exercised
intolerantly, “for the system of Mahomet is made to extend itself by
means abundantly more efficacious. By establishing schools in the
different towns, where many of the Pagan as well as Mohammedan children
are taught to read the Koran, and instructed in the tenets of the
Prophet, the Mohammedan priests fix a bias on the mind and form the
character of their young disciples which no accidents of life can ever
afterwards remove or alter.” Of which latter fact let our Christian
missionaries take note, and if possible learn a lesson therefrom.
This remarkable race did not originally belong to Bondou. Further
south they were in even greater force, though scattered in more or
less independent communities from Lake Chad to the Atlantic, a fact
destined, after Park’s time, to have the most important bearing upon
the history of the whole of the Western and Central Sudan.
Everywhere Park found the Fulahs remarkable for their industry, and no
less successful in agriculture than in pastoral pursuits, which seem to
have been their original speciality. In their hands Bondou developed
a degree of wealth unknown in neighbouring states. Its prosperity,
however, was also in great measure due to its being on the chief
highway of the commerce from the interior to the coast, considerable
duties being levied on all merchandise passing through it.
At Falika, Park secured the services of an officer of the King of
Bondou as guide as far as Fatticonda, the capital.
On resuming their journey a violent quarrel broke out between two of
Park’s companions, which would probably have ended in bloodshed, but
for the interference of the white man, and his determined threat that
he would shoot down the first who again drew sword--an ultimatum which
had the desired effect. The rest of the march was accomplished in
sullen silence, till a good supper terminated all heart-burnings, and
animosities were forgotten under the influence of the diverting stories
and sweet harmonies of an itinerant musician.
On the 15th the party crossed the Nereko, a considerable branch of the
Gambia, and stayed for the night at Kurkarany, a walled town provided
with a mosque. Four days later they crossed a dry stony height covered
with mimosas, and entered the basin of the Senegal.
They were now more within the sphere of influence of French traders,
who, as Park soon saw, had succeeded with characteristic genius in
suiting the taste of the ladies of the country. These he found dressed
in a thin French gauze, admirably adapted for the hot climate, and
rendered dear to its wearers by the manner in which it displayed and
heightened their charms. Their manners proved to be as irresistible
as their dress, so that Park found it impossible to withstand their
appeals for amber, beads, and other bits of showy finery. Having
despoiled him of all he had, these “sturdy beggars” tore his cloak,
cut the buttons from his servant’s clothes, and were proceeding to
other outrages, when finding this more than his gallantry could stand,
he mounted his horse and fled, leaving them disconsolate, but with
abundant souvenirs.
Next day the Falemé, a turbulent tributary of the Senegal, was reached.
The natives were actively engaged fishing, and the country around was
covered with large and beautiful fields of millet.
It was not without apprehension that Park on the 21st December entered
Fatticonda, the capital of Bondou. His predecessor Houghton had here
been plundered and badly used, and he had every reason to fear a
similar fate. But the situation was not to be evaded, so he braced
himself up as best he might to face whatever was in store for him.
On entering the town, he and his party took up their station at the
Palaver House or Bentang, as is the fashion of strangers, who thus make
known their necessities, and mutely appeal for a night’s lodging. They
had not long to wait before a respectable slatee invited them to his
house.
An hour afterwards a messenger came to conduct the traveller to the
king. Finding himself led out of the town, Park began to fear a trap,
but was reassured on being shown the king sitting under a tree, and
hearing that such was his way of giving a private audience. The
stranger’s statement that he was no trader, and that he only travelled
from motives of curiosity, was received with incredulity.
In the evening Park proceeded to make a more formal call. First,
however, he concealed some of his goods in the roof of the hut, and
donned his best coat, hoping thus to save them from the possible
plundering he might be subjected to.
The king’s quarters were found to be converted into a species of
citadel by a high mud wall, having a number of inner courts, each court
containing several huts. After threading a series of intricate passages
guarded by armed sentinels, the king, Almami, was at last reached.
Again he showed himself but half satisfied with the white man’s
explanations of the object of his visit. The idea of travelling merely
to gratify curiosity was too new to his experience. It seemed the fancy
of a madman. The presents offered put him in good humour, however, in
particular the gift of a large umbrella.
As Park was about to take his leave, Almami stopped him, and commenced
a eulogium of the generosity and immense wealth of the white men.
From the general he came down to the particular, and had much that
was flattering to say of his guest for the time being--a praise
soon directed pointedly to the traveller’s handsome coat and shining
buttons, until at length it became clear to its owner that it was not
only admired but coveted. There was nothing for it but to take the coat
off and lay it at the feet of the wily monarch, who did his best to
console the giver by declaring that henceforth the garment should be
his state dress for all great occasions.
For once Park’s caution had overreached its object.
Next morning the traveller visited by request the wives of Almami. He
found himself surrounded by a dozen young and handsome women, decorated
with gold and amber, who clamoured for physic and beads, and to have
some blood taken from them. They rallied him upon the whiteness of
his skin, which they said was due to his having been dipped in milk
when an infant; and on the prominence of his nose, which they declared
had been pinched into that shape by his mother. Park was equal to the
occasion. He had compliments for all of them. The glossy jet of their
skin and the contours of their _retroussé_ noses, the bright glitter of
their eyes and brilliant whiteness of their teeth were alike praised.
This delicate flattery, with the addition of some bloodletting and a
quantity of drastic medicine, was irresistible; and, though Park does
not say so, undoubtedly the good impression he left behind among the
ladies contributed materially to his immunity from the fate of his
predecessor. Not only was he not plundered, but his baggage was not
even searched. Still better, Almami on parting gave him five drachms of
gold.
On the 23rd the traveller resumed his journey in the best of spirits
after his unexpectedly good reception. At mid-day a halt was called for
rest and refreshment, by way of preparation for the passage of the
dangerous district lying between Bondou and the next country, Kajaaga,
which it would be necessary to traverse under cover of night.
As soon as the people of the village were asleep, the donkeys were
reloaded, and as silently as possible, so as not to disturb the
villagers, the party passed out into the wilderness. The moon was
shining brightly, illumining their way. The air was perfectly still,
raising neither sigh nor rustle from leaf or bough. The deep solitudes
of the forest were undisturbed save by the solemn impressive howling
of wild beasts, and shrieks and hoots of night-birds which mingled
discordantly with the deafening musical uproar of myriad insects, and
the clutter of innumerable frogs. Except in whispers, not a word was
uttered. Every one was on the alert, at times guiding the animals, more
often peering ahead, or to right and left, on the lookout for possible
robbers. Happily no human enemies appeared, though many were the
alarms, as from time to time an unusual sound, or the vaguely descried
figure of a prowling hyena, made each man seize his gun with a firmer
grasp. Towards morning a village was reached where the little party
were enabled to rest themselves and their animals before entering in
the afternoon the country of Kajaaga.