_THE SLAVE ROUTE._
In the second week of April the Mohammedans of Kamalia were on the
alert for the expected appearance of the new moon, which would
terminate their month of fasting. On the evening of this joyful event
it seemed for a time as if they were to be disappointed, and that yet
another day would have to be added to their Rhamadan. Clouds veiled
the sky. Only temporarily, however. The obscuring mists broke, and the
delicate curved beauty of the new moon gleamed upon the upturned faces,
and carried joy to every Mussulman heart. Shrill screams from the women
and shouts from the men, hand clapping, drum beating, and musket firing
gave voice to the general delight.
Orders were at once given by Karfa to prepare for the march, and on
consultation the 19th of April was chosen for the day of departure.
This was good news for Park, who, sick with hope long deferred, and
“wearied with a constant state of alarm and anxiety, had developed a
painful longing for the manifold blessings of civilisation.” All the
slatees had done their best to set Karfa against the white stranger,
and the latter constantly feared that their evil machinations might
prevail, and that he would be cast forth helpless and destitute among
the dangerous wilds of Africa.
At last the wished-for day of departure arrived. The slatees assembled
with their slaves before their leader Karfa’s door. The bundles were
finally roped, and the loads assigned to the men and women who were to
carry them. When mustered, the caravan numbered thirty-five slaves, and
thirty-eight free people and domestic slaves, a schoolmaster with eight
pupils, and six singing men to lighten with song and antic the toils of
the route, while at the same time making the presence of the caravan
more welcome to the natives, and its reception more hospitable at their
hands.
Amid much hand-shaking and various manifestations of fear, regret,
and grief, the signal to start was given, and the caravan set out
on its journey. At a rising some distance out of town a halt was
called. All were ordered to seat themselves, the departing band of
travellers with their faces towards the west, the townspeople who had
so far accompanied them with theirs towards Kamalia and the east. The
schoolmaster and two of the principal slatees, placing themselves
between, raised a long and solemn prayer that their journey might
be successful and safe under the protection of Allah. Afterwards
the caravan was encircled three times, that a charm might be woven
round the party, and their safety thus further ensured. The ceremony
concluded, all sprang to their feet, and without further leave-taking
the start was made towards the ocean.
At first the movements of many of the slaves were eloquent of the
fetters they had worn for years. Their attempts at walking were marked
by spasmodic contractions of the legs, and very soon two of them had to
be released from the rope to allow them to go slower, so painful were
their efforts to step out freely and briskly.
[Illustration: BAOBAB TREE.]
In two marches Worumbang, the western frontier village of Manding, was
reached without mishap. The party was now on the verge of the dreaded
Jallonka Wilderness. Provisions had to be gathered for the passage of
this trying region, and every one rested to prepare for the forced
marches and hardships ahead.
On the morning of the 21st the outskirts of the wilderness were
entered. On reaching the woods a halt was called, and a prayer offered
up that Allah and his prophet might preserve them from robbers, keep
them from hunger, and sustain them under fatigue. This ceremony over,
it behoved every man to push forward with all his strength and will if
Kinytakuro, the proposed destination of that day’s march, was to be
reached before dark. Every one, bond and free alike, knew the dangers
before him, and ran rather than walked.
Soon the Niger basin was left, and the Kokoro, a tributary of the
Senegal, was reached. At this time it was a mere rivulet, but there was
ample evidence to show that during the rainy season it had risen twenty
feet.
No halt was made throughout the day--nothing was heard but the order
to push on. Well indeed was it for those who had the strength to do
so. Some there were who could not. A woman and a girl began to lag
behind. Threats and curses from time to time incited them to spasmodic
efforts at exertion, but soon these failed in their effect, and fell
on unheeding ears. The lash was next brought into play, and for a time
gave the needed stimulus. Then it too failed. Savage hands grasped the
unhappy victims of European commerce and dragged them forward, while
others behind plied the whip with unabating ferocity. The limits of
nature were reached at last, and both sank to the ground, not to be
moved by any form of fiendish cruelty. Furious and disappointed, their
master had at length to give in, and make up his mind to return home
for the time being.
About sunset the town of Kinytakuro was reached, and the anxieties of
the first day’s march were over. The entry to the town was made with
much ceremony and circumstance. The musicians led the way singing the
praises of the villagers, their hospitality, and their friendship to
the Mandingoes. After them followed some of the free men; then came the
slaves, fastened in fours by a rope round the neck, with an armed man
between each set. Behind the raw slaves came the domestic slaves, while
the rear was brought up by the free women, the wives of the slatees,
the scholars, &c. In this way the caravan marched to the palaver house,
where the people gathered round to hear their story; after which
lodgings and food were provided for the entire party.
At daybreak on the 23rd, the wilderness proper was entered. At ten
o’clock the river Wonda, flowing to the Senegal, was crossed, and then
strict commands were given that close order should be maintained, and
every man travel in his proper station.
The guides and the young men led the way, the women and slaves occupied
the centre, while the free men brought up the rear. The country through
which they passed unmolested, though with hurried footsteps, was
charming in the extreme, with its variety of hill and dale, of glade
and wood, and meandering streams, to which partridges, guinea fowl, and
deer gave an air of animation. On this day Park got his arms and neck
painfully blistered by the burning sun, from which his scanty dress
afforded him no protection.
At sunset a romantic stream called Comcissang was reached, and here
the party halted for the night, thoroughly fatigued with their day’s
exertions, though no one was heard to complain. Large fires were
kindled for cooking purposes, as well as to light up the camp and drive
away wild beasts. Supper over, the slaves were put in irons to prevent
their escaping, and then all disposed themselves to sleep; but between
ants within the camp and wild beasts howling without the night’s rest
was sadly broken.
At daybreak morning prayers were said, after which a little gruel was
drunk by the free men, the irons being thereafter once more taken off
the slaves, and the march resumed.
The route now led over a wild and rocky country, where Park, with
nothing better than sandals to protect his feet, got sadly bruised
and cut. Fears began to oppress him that he would not be able to keep
up with the caravan, and that he would be left behind to perish. The
sight of others more exhausted than himself was, however, in some
sort a relief from his apprehension. Neali, one of Karfa’s female
slaves, especially showed signs of giving in. She began to lag behind,
complaining of pains in her legs, and her load had to be taken from
her and given to another. About midday, while halting at a rivulet, an
enormous swarm of bees, which had been disturbed by one of the men,
set upon the caravan, and sent it flying in all directions. When the
panic had subsided, it was discovered that Neali had been left behind.
Before going back in search of her it was necessary to set fire to the
grass to the east of the hive in order to clear away the bees with the
smoke. The plan was effectual, and on returning to the rivulet, Neali
was found half dead in the water, whither she had crept in the hope of
escaping the onslaught of the bees. The stratagem had been of no avail,
however, and the poor creature was almost stung to death.
It was the last drop in her cup of misery. Nothing else could touch
her. Entreaties and threats were alike useless. Further forward she
doggedly refused to go. Once more the efficacy of the whip was tried.
Down came the brutal lash. The girl writhed in every muscle, but she
neither screamed nor attempted to rise. Again the lash swung round her
shrinking body, but with no more effect. Not until it had descended
a third and a fourth time did her resolution give way. Then stung to
superhuman effort by the fearful torture, she started up and staggered
forward for some hours, till wild with agony she made a mad attempt to
run away, but fell fainting among the grass. Her master’s only remedy
was the lash, and that he applied with renewed savagery. In vain--Neali
was beyond its cruel compulsion. As a last resource the donkey which
carried the dry provisions was brought, and the half dead slave placed
on his back. But the girl’s only wish was to die, nay, even now she
seemed as one already dead.
Unable even if she had been willing to retain her seat, and the donkey
at the same time emphatically objecting to his new load, that means of
carriage had to be given up. The day’s journey, however, was nearly
over, and Neali being a valuable slave, the slatees could not bring
themselves to abandon her. Accordingly, they made a rude litter of
bamboo canes, on which she was carried until the camping ground for the
night was reached.
It now became evident that Neali was not the only slave for whom the
journey was proving too much. The hard march with heavy loads under a
broiling sun, without food, and with no better stimulant than blows and
curses--with nothing to look forward to at night but additional chains,
and in the future a horrible fate at the hands of white men across the
seas--all this was beginning to have its natural effect. Sullen despair
was in every feature--every gesture. Death, suicide, seemed preferable
to such a chain of horrors.
The slatees were not slow to mark these ominous signs. At once fetters
were applied--the more desperate of the slaves having even their hands
chained; and thus bound they were left to rest as best they might.
Throughout the night Neali lay torpid and almost motionless, and
morning found her with limbs so stiff and swollen that she could not
stand, much less walk. The donkey was again brought into requisition,
and to keep her on his back the girl’s hands were tied round his neck,
and her feet under his belly. Spite of these precautions, however,
before long the donkey threw her, and bound as she was, she was nearly
trampled to death before she could be released.
Meanwhile precious time was being wasted in a wilderness where every
minute was of the utmost importance. To carry the girl in the fashion
of the previous evening was out of the question, and the patience of
every one was exhausted. “Cut her throat! cut her throat!” was the
cry now raised by the slave dealers. Strange to say, Park did not
seem to have anything to urge against this brutal suggestion--for
Neali indeed the most merciful ending of her troubles--though being
unwilling to see it put in force, he walked on ahead. A few minutes
later one of Karfa’s men came up to him carrying Neali’s scanty cotton
garment, which to Park was eloquent of the poor girl’s fate. He could
not bring himself to make inquiries then, but later on he learned that
Neali had not had the good fortune to have her tortures ended at once
by the knife. She was deserted, and a day of exposure, naked to the
remorseless sun, without food or drink, had to drag slowly on before
darkness drew a veil over the last horrible scene, in which she met
death under the fangs of the wild beasts of the Jallonka Wilderness.
The fate of the slave girl had a wonderfully stimulating effect on the
rest of the caravan; but the schoolmaster, in doubts as to how Allah
would regard the incident, fasted the whole day. In deep silence the
slaves travelled onward at a steady pace, each apprehensive that his
too might be the fate of Neali. No one was more apprehensive than Park
himself. Only by the most determined effort of will did he keep himself
from succumbing on the march. Everything that could obstruct him in the
least--even his spear--was thrown away, but still he could just barely
struggle on. “The poor slaves, amidst their own infinitely greater
sufferings, would commiserate mine, and frequently of their own accord
bring water to quench my thirst, and at night collect branches and
leaves to prepare me a bed in the wilderness.”
On the morning of the 26th, two of the schoolmaster’s pupils complained
of pains in their legs, and one of the slaves walked lame, the soles
of his feet being much blistered and inflamed. But there could be no
halting for such trivial causes, and the caravan pushed onward with hot
haste, eager to escape as soon as possible the hardships and dangers
of the desert. In the middle of the day a rocky hill was reached, the
crossing of which greatly aggravated the sores on the travellers’ feet.
In the afternoon evidences of a raiding party of horsemen were seen,
and to hide their track the caravan had to disperse and travel wide
apart for some distance.
Another day of toil ended the desert march. On the 27th, the village of
Susita, in the district of Kullo, was entered. The rest of the road was
comparatively safe. Next day the Bafing or Black River, the principal
branch of the Senegal, was crossed by a bamboo bridge of singular
construction. Trees tied end to end were made to support a roadway
of bamboos--the centre of the bridge floating on the water, the ends
resting on the banks. On the rising of the water during the rains this
primitive bridge is carried away each year.
Though the caravan had now got into a well-populated district, their
troubles were hardly over. They were refused admittance at village
after village, and to complete their discomfiture, news came that two
hundred Jallonkas had gathered to plunder them. This necessitated an
alteration in their route, and a forced night march. After midnight a
town was reached, but as a free man and three slaves were found to be
missing, a halt was called, and while the caravan remained concealed
in a cotton field, a search party returned to look for the runaways.
In the morning the town was entered, and the day was passed in resting
from their fatigues. Here, to the joy of all, the absentees turned up
safely. One of the slaves had hurt his foot, and they had thus lagged
behind and lost the caravan. The free man, foreseeing the danger of
an outbreak, insisted on putting the slaves in irons. This they were
inclined to resist, but a threat to stab them all had its due effect.
On the 3rd of May the caravan reached the schoolmaster’s native
village, Malacotta, where in consequence a hearty welcome awaited them.
Three days were spent here recruiting the party. During that time Park
learned the particulars of a remarkable story of Moslem zeal and Pagan
chivalry and generosity, well worthy of being retold.
“The King of Futa Torra, inflamed with a zeal for propagating his
religion, had sent an embassy to Damel, King of the Jaloffs.
“The ambassador was accompanied by two of the principal Mohammedans of
the country, who each carried a knife fixed on the top of a long pole.
‘With this knife,’ said the ambassador, ‘Abdul Kader will condescend to
shave the head of Damel, if Damel will embrace the Mohammedan religion;
and with this other knife Abdul Kader will cut the throat of Damel if
Damel refuse to embrace it. Take your choice.’
“Damel replied that he had no choice to make. He neither chose to have
his head shaved nor his throat cut; and with this answer the ambassador
was civilly dismissed. War was accordingly declared, and the country of
Damel invaded. The fortune of war, however, went against the earthly
instrument of Allah, and his army was not only dispersed with great
loss, but he himself taken prisoner. In this humiliating position
Abdul Kader was brought in irons and thrown on the ground before
Damel. Instead of setting his foot on the neck of his royal prisoner
and stabbing him with his spear, as is the custom in such cases, Damel
addressed him as follows--‘Abdul Kader, answer me this question. If
the chance of war had placed me in your situation, and you in mine, how
would you have treated me?’
“‘I would have thrust my spear into your heart,’ answered the brave
though fanatical prince; ‘and I know that a similar fate awaits me.’
“‘Not so,’ said Damel. ‘My spear is indeed red with the blood of your
subjects killed in battle, and I could now give it a deeper stain by
dipping it in your own; but this would not build up my towns, nor bring
to life the thousands who fell in the woods. I will not therefore kill
you in cold blood, but I will retain you as my slave until I perceive
that your presence in your own kingdom will be no longer dangerous
to your neighbours, and then I will consider of the proper way of
disposing of you.’ A decision which has been made the subject of the
songs of the musicians, and a matter of applausive comment by all the
tribes.
“Abdul Kader was accordingly retained, and worked as a slave for three
months; at the end of which period Damel listened to the solicitations
of the inhabitants of Futa Torra, and restored to them their king.”
Of the truth of this story there seems to be no doubt.