It is only too probable that he had much trouble with his men, and certainly between the lines we gather that he had an immense amount of work to perform—looking after his caravan on the road, buying food, and holding innumerable palavers, &c., in camp. Even the nights he could not call his own, for observations for latitude and longitude must be taken at all hours—notes written out, and the observations calculated. He had to be at once overseer, buyer of food, interpreter, surveyor, doctor, and general inspirer of the whole party. But he was equal to everything that could be put on his shoulders. Within him he had a sustaining force such as was known to none of those about him, and which gave him a giant’s strength and the spirit of the gods.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
STILL STRUGGLING TOWARDS THE GREAT RIVER.
Park in his letter home was careful only to look backward: it is now our business to accompany him forward, and see what happened as he passed across the Senegal basin on his way to the Niger.
On the 7th of June he crossed the Samaku, which flows north to join the Falemé, and in fear of an attack, travelled rapidly through an uninhabited district by a forced march. Here two of the donkeys had to be abandoned, and there being no guiding pathway, as darkness came on, muskets were frequently fired to prevent the men losing each other.
Early next day the Falemé was seen in the distance. The carpenter, who had become very ill, could not sit upright on a donkey, and time after time threw himself off, declaring that he would rather die. Latterly it took two men to hold him in his seat by force, and at the Falemé, which was crossed in the course of the day, he had to be left behind in charge of a soldier. He died a few hours after.
That night a heavy tornado burst upon the caravan. Five soldiers who had not been under proper shelter, and got a wetting, became ill in consequence.
It could no longer be ignored that the rains were at last upon them, and that just when they were in the network of streams into which the Senegal and the Niger divide in their uppermost reaches. One terrible necessity of their situation was, that sick or not sick, there could be no halting to allow of possible recovery. They must push forward towards their goal, though the route should be marked by the dead bodies of their comrades. The longer the delay, the more difficult would the march become, from flooded rivers, more incessant rains, and the increasing swampiness of the country.
Up to this time Park had followed his former return route. He now determined to strike a line further north in order to avoid the Jallonka Wilderness, of whose horrors he had such a lively recollection. The new route was hard and rocky, and very fatiguing to the donkeys. As the day went on many of the sick became hopelessly unfit to drive their animals. One of them Park mounted on his own horse while he himself assumed the part of donkey driver. Even then four of the donkeys had to be left in the woods, and he himself did not reach camp till long after dark. Before the tents could be pitched a tornado came down upon them and drenched them to the skin. The ground was speedily covered to a depth of three inches, and in this uncomfortable plight—fireless, tentless, dripping—they had to pass the night. A second tornado about two in the morning completed their discomfiture.