About two o'clock, as I was lying asleep upon a bullock's hide behind the door of the hut, I was awakened by the screams of women, and a general clamour and confusion among the inhabitants. At first I suspected that the Bambarrans had actually entered the town; but observing my boy upon the top of one of the huts, I called to him to know what was the matter. He informed me that the Moors were come a second time to steal the cattle, and that they were now close to the town. I mounted the roof of the hut, and observed a large herd of bullocks coming towards the town, followed by five Moors on horseback, who drove the cattle forward with their muskets. When they had reached the wells, which are close to the town, the Moors selected from the herd sixteen of the finest beasts, and drove them off at full gallop.
During this transaction, the townspeople, to the number of five hundred, stood collected close to the walls of the town; and when the Moors drove the cattle away, though they passed within pistol shot of them, the inhabitants scarcely made a show of resistance. I only saw four muskets fired, which, being loaded with gunpowder of the Negroes' own manufacture, did no execution. Shortly after this I observed a number of people supporting a young man upon horseback, and conducting him slowly towards the town. This was one of the herdsmen, who, attempting to throw his spear, had been wounded by a shot from one of the Moors. His mother walked on before, quite frantic with grief, clapping her hands, and enumerating the good qualities of her son. Ee maffo fonio, (he never told a lie,) said the disconsolate mother, as her wounded son was carried in at the gate—Ee maffo fonio abada, (he never told a lie; no, never.) When they had conveyed him to his hut, and laid him upon a mat, all the spectators joined in lamenting his fate, by screaming and howling in the most piteous manner.
After their grief had subsided a little, I was desired to examine the wound. I found that the ball had passed quite through his leg, having fractured both bones a little below the knee. The poor boy was faint from the loss of blood, and his situation withal so very precarious, that I could not console his relations with any great hopes of his recovery. However, to give him a possible chance, I observed to them that it was necessary to cut off his leg above the knee. This proposal made every one start with horror; they had never heard of such a method of cure, and would by no means give their consent to it; indeed, they evidently considered me as a sort of cannibal for proposing so cruel and unheard-of an operation, which, in their opinion, would be attended with more pain and danger than the wound itself. The patient was therefore committed to the care of some old Bushreens, who endeavoured to secure him a passage into paradise, by whispering in his ear some Arabic sentences, and desiring him to repeat them. After many unsuccessful attempts, the poor Heathen at last pronounced, la illah el allah, Mahomet rasowl allahi;[9] and the disciples of the Prophet assured his mother that her son had given sufficient evidence of his faith, and would be happy in a future state. He died the same evening.
[9] There is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet.
Feb. 17th. My guides informed me, that in order to avoid the Moorish banditti, it was necessary to travel in the night; we accordingly departed from Funingkedy in the afternoon, accompanied by about thirty people, carrying their effects with them into Ludamar, for fear of the war. We travelled with great silence and expedition until midnight, when we stopped in a sort of enclosure, near a small village; but the thermometer being so low as 68°, none of the Negroes could sleep on account of the cold.
At daybreak on the 18th we resumed our journey, and at eight o'clock passed Simbing, the frontier village of Ludamar, situated in a narrow pass between two rocky hills, and surrounded with a high wall. From this village Major Houghton (being deserted by his Negro servants, who refused to follow him into the Moorish country) wrote his last letter with a pencil to Dr. Laidley. This brave but unfortunate man, having surmounted many difficulties, had taken a northerly direction, and endeavoured to pass through the kingdom of Ludamar, where I afterwards learned the following particulars concerning his melancholy fate. On his arrival at Jarra he got acquainted with certain Moorish merchants who were travelling to Tisheet (a place near the salt pits in the Great Desert, ten days' journey to the northward) to purchase salt; and the Major, at the expense of a musket and some tobacco, engaged them to convey him thither. It is impossible to form any other opinion on this determination, than that the Moors intentionally deceived him, either with regard to the route that he wished to pursue, or the state of the intermediate country between Jarra and Tombuctoo. Their intention probably was to rob and leave him in the Desert. At the end of two days he suspected their treachery, and insisted on returning to Jarra. Finding him persist in this determination, the Moors robbed him of every thing he possessed, and went off with their camels; the poor Major being thus deserted, returned on foot to a watering place in possession of the Moors, called Tarra. He had been some days without food, and the unfeeling Moors refusing to give him any, he sunk at last under his distresses. Whether he actually perished of hunger, or was murdered outright by the savage Mahomedans, is not certainly known; his body was dragged into the woods, and I was shown at a distance the spot where his remains were left to perish.
About four miles to the north of Simbing, we came to a small stream of water, where we observed a number of wild horses; they were all of one colour, and galloped away from us at any easy rate, frequently stopping and looking back. The Negroes hunt them for food, and their flesh is much esteemed.
About noon we arrived at Jarra, a large town situated at the bottom of some rocky hills. But before I proceed to describe the place itself, and relate the various occurrences which befel me there, it will not be improper to give my readers a brief recital of the origin of the war which induced me to take this route; an unfortunate determination, the immediate cause of all the misfortunes and calamities which afterwards befel me. The recital which I propose to give in this place will prevent interruptions hereafter.
This war, which desolated Kaarta soon after I had left that kingdom, and spread terror into many of the neighbouring states, arose in the following manner. A few bullocks belonging to a frontier village of Bambarra having been stolen by a party of Moors, were sold to the Dooty or chief man of a town in Kaarta. The villagers claimed their cattle, and being refused satisfaction, complained of the Dooty to their sovereign, Mansong, King of Bambarra, who probably beheld with an eye of jealousy the growing prosperity of Kaarta, and availed himself of this incident to declare hostilities against that kingdom.
With this view he sent a messenger and a party of horsemen to Daisy, King of Kaarta, to inform him that the King of Bambarra, with nine thousand men, would visit Kemmoo in the course of the dry season; and to desire that he (Daisy) would direct his slaves to sweep the houses, and have every thing ready for their accommodation. The messenger concluded this insulting notification by presenting the king with a pair of iron sandals; at the same time adding, that "until such time as Daisy had worn out these sandals in his flight, he should never be secure from the arrows of Bambarra."