The usual dress of the women is a broad piece of cotton cloth wrapped round the middle, which hangs down like a petticoat; to the upper part of this are sewed two square pieces, one before and the other behind, which are fastened together over the shoulders. The head dress is a bandage of cotton cloth, a part of which covers the face when they walk in the sun, but frequently, when they go abroad, they veil themselves from head to foot. Their employment varies according to their situation. Queen Fatima passed her time in conversing with visitors, performing devotions, or admiring her charms in a looking-glass. Other ladies of rank amuse themselves in similar idleness. The lower females attend to domestic duties. They are very vain and talkative, very capricious in their temper, and when angry vent their passion upon the female slaves, over whom they rule despotically.
The men's dress differs but little from that of the negroes, except that they all wear the turban, universally made of white cotton cloth. Those who have long beards display them with pride and satisfaction, as denoting an Arab ancestry. "If any one circumstance," says Mr. Park, "excited amongst the Moors favourable thoughts towards my own person, it was my beard, which was now grown to an enormous length, and was always beheld with approbation or envy. I believe, in my conscience, they thought it too good a beard for a Christian."
The great desert of Jarra bounds Ludamar on the north. This vast ocean of sand is almost destitute of inhabitants. A few miserable Arabs wander from one well to another, their flocks subsisting upon a scanty vegetation in a few insulated spots. In other places, where the supply of water and pasturage is more abundant, small parties of Moors have taken up their residence, where they live in independent poverty, secure from the government of Barbary. The greater part of the desert, however, is seldom visited, except where the caravans pursue their laborious and dangerous route. In other parts, the disconsolate wanderer, wherever he turns, sees nothing around him but a vast indeterminable expanse of sand and sky; a gloomy and barren void, where the eye finds no particular object to rest upon, and the mind is filled with painful apprehensions of perishing with thirst. Surrounded by this dreary solitude, the traveller sees the dead bodies of birds, that the violence of the wind has brought from happier regions; and as he ruminates on the fearful length of his remaining passage, listens with horror to the voice of the driving blast, the only sound that interrupts the awful repose of the desert.
The antelope and the ostrich are the only wild animals of these regions of desolation, but on the skirts of the desert are found lions, panthers, elephants, and wild boars. Of domestic animals the camel alone can endure the fatigue of crossing it: by the conformation of his stomach, he can carry a supply of water for ten or twelve days; his broad and yielding foot is well adapted for treading the sand; his flesh is preferred by the Moors to any other, and the milk is pleasant and nourishing. On the evening of the 25th of May, Mr. Park's horse and accoutrements were sent to him by order of Ali. He had already taken leave of queen Fatima, who most graciously returned him part of his apparel, and early on the 20th, he departed from the camp of Bubaker, accompanied by Johnson and Demba, and a number of moorish horsemen.
Early in the morning of the 28th of May, Mr. Park was ordered to get in readiness to depart, and Ali's chief slave told the negro boy, that Ali was to be his master in future; then turning to Mr. Park, he said, the boy and every thing but your horse go back to Bubaker, but you may take the old fool (meaning Johnson, the interpreter) with you to Jarra. Mr. Park, shocked at the idea of losing the boy, represented to Ali, that whatever imprudence he had himself been guilty of, in coming into Ludamar, he thought he had been sufficiently punished by being so long detained, and then plundered of his property. This, however, gave him no uneasiness, compared to the present injury. The boy seized on was not a slave, and accused of no offence. His fidelity to his master had brought him into his present situation, and he, as his protector, could not see him enslaved without deprecating the cruelty and injustice of the act. Ali, with a haughty and malignant smile, told his interpreter, that if Mr. Park did not depart that instant, he would send him back likewise. Finding it was vain to expect redress, Mr. Park shook hands with his affectionate boy, who was not less affected than himself, and having blended his tears with those of the boy, assured him he would spare no pains to effect his release. Poor Demba was led off by three of Ali's slaves towards the camp at Bubaker.
On the 1st of June, they departed for Jarra, where Mr. Park took up his residence with his old friend, Daman Jamma, whom he informed of every thing that had befallen him. Mr. Park then requested Daman to endeavour to ransom the boy, and promised him a bill upon Dr. Laidley for the value of two slaves as soon as Demba arrived at Jarra. Daman undertook the business, but Ali, considering the boy as Mr. Park's principal interpreter, and fearing he should be instrumental in conducting him to Bambarra, deferred the matter day after day, but told Daman, he himself should have him hereafter, if he would, at the price of a common slave. To this Daman agreed whenever the boy was sent to Jarra.
On the 8th of June, Ali returned to Bubaker to celebrate a festival, and permitted Mr. Park to remain with Daman until his return. Finding that every attempt to recover his boy was ineffectual, he considered it an act of necessity to provide for his own safety before the rains should be fully set in, and accordingly resolved to escape and proceed alone to Bambarra, as Johnson, the interpreter, had refused further attendance. On the 28th of June, at daybreak, Mr. Park took his departure, and in the course of the day arrived at Queira; where he had not been a long time, before he was surprised by the appearance of Ali's chief slave and four Moors. Johnson having contrived to overhear their conversation, learned that they were sent to convey Mr. Park back to Bubaker. In the evening two of the Moors were observed privately to examine Mr. Park's horse, which they concluded was in too bad a condition for his rider's escape, and having inquired where he slept, they returned to their companions. Mr. Park, on being informed of their motions, determined to set off immediately for Bambarra to avoid a second captivity. Johnson applauded his resolution, but positively refused to accompany him, having agreed with Daman to assist in conducting a caravan of slaves to Gambia.
In this emergency Mr. Park resolved to proceed by himself, and about midnight got his clothes in readiness, but he had not a single bead, nor any other article of value, wherewith to purchase victuals for himself or his horse. At daybreak, Johnson, who had been listening to the Moors all night, came to inform him they were asleep, on which, taking up his bundle, Mr. Park stepped gently over the negroes, who were sleeping in the open air, and having mounted his horse, bade Johnson farewell, desiring him to take particular care of the papers, with which he had entrusted him, and to inform his friends on the Gambia, that he had left him in good health proceeding to Bambarra.
Mr. Park advanced with great caution for about the space of a mile, when looking back he saw three Moors on horseback, galloping at full speed and brandishing their double-barrelled guns. As it was impossible to escape, he turned and met them, when two caught hold of his bridle, and the third presenting his musket, said he must go back to Ali. Mr. Park rode back with the Moors, with apparent unconcern, when, in passing through some thick bushes, one of them desired him to untie his bundle and show them the contents, but finding nothing worth taking, one of them pulled his cloak from him, and wrapped it about himself. This was the most valuable article in Mr. Park's possession, as it defended him from the rains in the day, and from the mosquitoes at night, he therefore earnestly requested them to return it, but to no purpose. Mr, Park now perceived, that these men had only pursued him for the sake of plunder, and turned once more towards the east. To avoid being again overtaken, he struck into the woods, and soon found himself on the right road.
Joyful as he now was, when he concluded he was out of danger, he soon became sensible of his deplorable situation, without any means of procuring food, or prospect of finding water. Oppressed with excessive thirst, he travelled on without having seen a human habitation. It was now become insufferable; his mouth was parched and inflamed, a sudden dimness frequently came over his eyes, and he began seriously to apprehend that he should perish for want of drink. A little before sunset, he climbed a high tree, from the topmost branches of which he took a melancholy survey of the barren wilderness. A dismal uniformity of shrubs and sand every-where presented itself, and the horizon was as level and uninterrupted as that of the sea. Descending from the tree, Mr. Park found his horse devouring the stubble and brushwood with groat avidity. Being too faint to attempt walking, and his horse too much fatigued to carry him, Mr. Park thought it was the last act of humanity he should ever be able to perform, to take off his bridle and let him shift for himself; in doing which he was suddenly affected with sickness and giddiness, and falling upon the sand, felt as if the hour of death was approaching. "Here then," said he, "after a short but ineffectual struggle, terminate all my hopes of being useful in my day and generation; here must the short span of my life come to an end. I cast, as I believe, a last look on the surrounding scene, and whilst I reflected on the awful change that was about to take place, this world, with all its enjoyments, seemed to vanish from my recollection." Nature, however, resumed her functions, and on recovering his senses, he found the bridle still in his hand, and the sun just setting. He now summoned all his resolution, and determined to make another effort to prolong his existence. With this view he put the bridle on his horse, and driving him before him went slowly along for about an hour, when he perceived some lightning from the north-east; to him a delightful sight, as it promised rain, The wind began to roar amongst the bushes, and he was nearly suffocated with sand and dust, when the wind ceased, and for more than an hour the rain fell plentifully. He spread out his clothes to collect it, and assuaged his thirst by wringing and sucking them. The night was extremely dark, and Mr. Park directed his way by the compass, which the lightning enabled him to observe. On a sudden he was surprised to see a light at a short distance, and leading his horse cautiously towards it, heard by the lowing of the cattle and the clamour of the herdsmen, that it was a watering place. Being still thirsty, he attempted to search for the wells, but on approaching too near to one of the tents, he was perceived by a woman, who immediately gave an alarm; Mr. Park, however, eluded pursuit by immerging into the woods. He soon after heard the croaking of frogs, and following the sound arrived at some shallow muddy pools, where he and his horse quenched their thirst. The morning being calm, Mr. Park ascended a tree, and not only saw the smoke of the watering place which he had passed in the night, but also another pillar of smoke to the east, about twelve or fourteen miles distant. Directing his course thither, he reached some cultivated ground, on which some negroes were at work, by whom he was informed that he was near a Foulah village, belonging to Ali, called Shrilla. He had some doubts about entering it, but at last ventured, and riding up to the dooty's house was denied admittance, and even refused a handful of corn for his horse. Leaving this inhospitable door, he rode slowly out of the town towards some low huts scattered in the suburbs. At the door of a hovel hut, an old woman with a benevolent countenance sat spinning cotton. Mr. Park made signs that he was hungry, on which she immediately laid down her distaff, invited him to the hut, and set before him a dish of kouskous, of which he made a comfortable meal. In return for her kindness Mr. Park gave her a pocket handkerchief, begging at the same time a little corn for his horse, which she readily brought.