_REST AT KAMALIA._
Park had now entered the country of Manding. Sibidulu, from its
position in a small valley surrounded by high rocky hills impassable to
horsemen, had had the singular good fortune to escape being plundered
during the numerous wars from time to time waging around it. To this
happy immunity may possibly be ascribed the reception accorded to Park
in his hour of need. As he entered the town the people gathered round
and accompanied him in a pitying crowd to the head man of the village
in order to hear his story.
While he related the circumstances of his ill treatment the native
official listened with becoming gravity, and smoked his pipe the while.
The narrative finished, the latter drew up the sleeve of his cloak with
an indignant air, and laying aside his pipe, told the white man to sit
down. “You shall have everything returned to you. I have sworn it!”
Turning to an attendant, he ordered him to bring the stranger a drink
of water, and then proceed over the hills at dawn of day to inform the
chief of Bammaku that the King of Bambarra’s stranger had been robbed
by the people of the King of Fulahdu.
The head man did not confine himself to words or to water. A hut was
given to Park, and food to eat, though the crowd which gathered round
to commiserate the white man’s misfortunes could with comfort have been
dispensed with.
The generosity of his reception was all the more admirable that at
the time the people were suffering from semi-famine. Under these
circumstances, after having waited two days in vain for the return of
his horse and clothes, Park, afraid of becoming a burden to his kind
host, asked permission to proceed to the next village. The head man
showed no anxiety to hasten his guest’s departure, but in the end told
him to go to Wonda, and remain there till news was received of his
missing possessions.
Accordingly on the 30th, he proceeded to the place indicated, a small
town with a mosque, where his reception by the Mansa or chief was as
hospitable as at Sibidulu.
The attacks of fever which had finally compelled Park to turn back at
Silla now began to return with greater violence and frequency, and
little wonder either that it should be so. His solitary shirt, worn to
the thinness of muslin, afforded him neither protection from the sun by
day nor from the dews and mosquitoes by night. As, also, it had become
unpleasantly dirty, at Wonda he set about washing it, and had to sit
naked in the shade till it dried. The result was a violent attack of
fever which prostrated him for nine days.
All the while he had to do his best to conceal his illness, lest his
host should find him too great a nuisance, and order him to move on. To
this end he tried, like sick or wounded animals, to hide himself away
out of sight, usually spending the whole day lying in the corn-field,
thus undoubtedly aggravating his malady.
At this time the scarcity of food was so great that women brought
their children to the head man to sell for forty days’ provisions for
themselves and the rest of their families.
At last messengers arrived from Sibidulu, bringing Park’s horse and
clothes. To his profound dismay and disappointment the compass--which
next to his notes was his most valuable possession--was broken and
useless. The loss was irreparable.
The horse proving to be a mere skeleton, he was handed over as a
present to his kind landlord.
Though still ill with fever, and hardly able to totter along, the
traveller now resumed his weary way.
On the two succeeding days starvation added to his weakness. On the
third a negro trader gave him some food, and afterwards conducted him
to his house at Kinyeto. Here, as if he had not yet sufficiently run
the gamut of human suffering, he must needs endure the agonies of a
sprained ankle, which swelled and inflamed so that he could not set
his foot to the ground. The kindly trader, however, made him welcome
to stay until quite recovered, but Park did not trespass on his
hospitality longer than was absolutely necessary.
In three days he was sufficiently well to be able to limp along
with the assistance of a staff, and in this fashion he contrived to
hobble to Jerijang, whose chief--there being no king in Manding--was
considered the most powerful in the country.
Dosita was the next village reached, and here rain without and delirium
within compelled him to remain one day. Recovering slightly, he set
out for Mansia. The road led over a high rocky hill, and almost proved
too much for the exhausted wayfarer, who had to lie down at intervals
to recover. Though only a very few miles distant, it was late in the
afternoon before he reached the town. Here he was given a little corn
to eat, and a hut to sleep in. Evidently, however, the head man thought
Park richer than he looked, and during the night made two attempts to
enter the hut, being each time frustrated by the traveller’s vigilance.
In the morning the latter thought it better to take French leave of
such a host, and accordingly at daybreak set forth for Kamalia, a small
town situated at the bottom of some rocky hills. This place he reached
in the course of the afternoon.
At Kamalia, one Karfa Taura, brother of the hospitable negro trader
of Kinyeto, extended a like welcome to the wayworn white man. By this
time, so yellow was the latter’s skin from his repeated fevers, and so
poverty-stricken his appearance, that the trader was only convinced
of his nationality when on showing him a white man’s book in his
possession, he found the traveller could read it. This was a Book of
Common Prayer, of which Park obtained possession with no small surprise
and delight.
Not too soon had some means of spiritual consolation come to him, for
here he learned that the country before him--the Jallonka Wilderness,
with its eight rapid rivers--was absolutely impassable for many months
to come. Even then, when caravans found it difficult and dangerous,
what would it be to a defenceless and destitute single man? With the
knowledge that further advance at the present was hopeless, came the
realisation of the fact that to utter exhaustion of outward resources
was now to be added the complete loss of all inward force and strength.
Exposure, hunger, toil, and fever had at last triumphed over Park’s
iron constitution, and laid him low. He might still will not to
die, still hope that he would yet reach the coast, still keep up his
determined and sanguine spirit; but meanwhile, what could he do when
his physical powers had thus failed him?
But even in that moment, when he found himself overshadowed by despair
and death, and at the extreme limit of all his earthly resources, he
was once again to prove that a “Protecting Providence” watched over
him. In his supreme need a kind host had been provided in the person
of Karfa Taura to save him from death by fever and starvation, and not
only to lodge and feed him, but at the proper time to conduct him to
the Gambia, whither he was going with a slave caravan.
“Thus was I delivered by the friendly care of this benevolent negro
from a situation truly deplorable. Distress and famine pressed hard
upon me. I had before me the gloomy wilds of Jallonkadu, where the
traveller sees no habitation for five successive days. I had almost
marked out the place where I was doomed, as I thought, to perish, when
this friendly negro stretched out his hospitable hand to my relief.”
But neither food nor suitable shelter could stay the course of the
fever. Each succeeding day saw Park weaker, each night more delirious,
till at length he could not even crawl out of the hut. Six weary
weeks he passed hovering between life and death--alone sustained by
his intense religious beliefs and his eager hope of reaching the
coast before he died. Little wonder surely that at times he spent
“the lingering hours in a very gloomy and solitary manner,” while the
rains dashed down remorselessly on the hut wherein he lay in the damp
stifling atmosphere and semi-darkness.
At length with the passing season the rains became less frequent,
and the ground in consequence more dry. With improved conditions came
improved health and stronger hope of life. At times the convalescent
managed to crawl to his door to sniff the fresher and more wholesome
air, to bathe in the bright light, and look upon the blue heavens. It
was as if he had emerged from an open grave.
Soon from the door of his hut he could totter with his mat to the
grateful shade of a tamarind tree, and there enjoy the refreshing smell
of the growing corn, and the varied prospect of hill and valley, field
and grove around him. At other times naïve converse with the simple
natives, and half hours with his book of prayers, made glad the passing
day.
Through it all Karfa Taura was ever the generous host and faithful
friend, though many there were who vainly tried to turn him against his
unknown guest.
Occasionally parties of slaves were conveyed through Kamalia. Once one
of the unfortunate captives asked Park for food. The latter represented
that he was himself a stranger and destitute. “I gave you food when
you were hungry,” was the reply; “have you forgot the man who brought
you milk at Karankalla? But,” added he with a sigh, “the irons were
not then on my legs.” Much touched, Park recalled the incident, and
instantly begged some ground-nuts for him from Karfa.
With returning health of both body and mind, Park employed himself
while wearily awaiting the completion of the slave caravan in a variety
of inquiries regarding articles of commerce, trade routes, &c. Among
other subjects he was much interested in the slave trade. He learned
the various ways in which slaves were obtained--how the natives
kidnapped from neighbouring villages and petty states, or warred
with each other to keep up the traffic--how parents found a source of
temporary relief in times of famine by selling their children, and
kings a source of revenue by disposing of their subjects or those
convicted of crimes, while people unable to meet their engagements
in the ordinary way paid their debts by becoming the slaves of the
creditors. Of the bloodshed and ruin resulting from the unholy traffic
he had himself seen much, and now heard more, while remaining blind
to Europe’s share in encouraging this “great open sore” of Africa,
that its merchants and planters might be enriched thereby. As for the
unhappy victims of European commerce, they had a deeply rooted belief
that they were to be devoured by white cannibals, and that the country
across the sea was an enchanted land quite different from their own.
Their usual question to Park was, “Have you really got such ground as
this to set your feet upon?”
These ideas naturally caused the slaves to regard their fate at the
coast with terror and horror, and to seek every opportunity of escaping.
Each day Park could see his future companions to the Gambia marched
out, secured from flight by having the right leg of one attached by
fetters to the left leg of another, with the additional precaution that
every four men were fastened together by the necks with a strong rope.
Some who were not amenable to this form of discipline had a cylinder of
wood notched at each end fastened between the legs with iron bolts. At
night additional fetters were put on the hands, and occasionally the
prisoners were made further secure by having a light iron chain passed
round their necks. Thus loaded with irons on neck, hand, and foot they
were placed in batches and left to find sleep as best they could,
guarded by Karfa Taura’s domestic slaves.
One pleasant sight there was of which Park never wearied--the
Mohammedan schoolmaster of Kamalia, and his school of seventeen boys
and girls. To him “it was not so much a matter of wonder as a matter
of regret to observe that while the superstition of Mohammed has in
this manner scattered a few faint dreams of learning among these poor
people, the precious light of Christianity is excluded. I could not but
lament,” he continues, “that although the coast of Africa had now been
known and frequented for more than two hundred years, yet the negroes
still remain entire strangers to the doctrines of our holy religion....
Perhaps a short and easy introduction to Christianity, such as is
found in some of the catechisms for children, elegantly printed in
Arabic, and distributed on different parts of the coast, might have
a wonderful effect.... These reflections I have thus ventured to
submit to my readers on this important subject, on perceiving the
encouragement which was thus given to learning (such as it is) in many
parts of Africa. I have observed that the pupils of Kamalia were most
of them children of Pagans; their parents therefore could have had
no predilection for the doctrines of Mohammed. Their aim was their
children’s improvement.” So much indeed was education prized that the
usual course was valued at the price of a prime slave.
By the beginning of the year 1797, everything was ready for departure,
but on various trivial pretexts the leave-taking was put off from day
to day till the approach of Rhamadan, when it was determined to wait
till it was over before commencing their journey.
During the whole of the month of fast “the negroes behaved themselves
with the greatest meekness and humility, forming a striking contrast
to the savage intolerance and brutal bigotry which at this period
characterise the Moors.”