The following day, Mr. Park proceeded on his journey, and in the afternoon arrived at Marraboo, where he lodged in the house of a Kaartan, who, from his hospitality to strangers, was called Jatee, (the landlord,) his house being a sort of public inn for all travellers. Those who had money were well lodged, for they always made him some return for his kindness; but those who had nothing to give were content to accept whatever he thought proper. Mr. Park, belonging to the latter class, took up his lodging in the same hut with seven poor fellows, who had come from Kancaba in a canoe, but their landlord sent them some victuals.
Mr. Park now altered his course from the river to the mountains, and in the evening arrived at a village, called Frookaboo, from which place he proceeded on the following day to Bambakoo. This town is not so large as Marraboo, but the inhabitants are rich; for when the Moors bring their salt through Kaarta or Barnbarra, they rest at this place; the negro merchants purchasing the salt by wholesale, and retailing it to great advantage. Here Mr. Park lodged at the house of a Serawoolli negro, and was visited by a number of Moors, who treated him with great civility. A slave-merchant, who had resided many years on the Gambia, gave Mr. Park an imperfect account of the distance to that river, but told him the road was impassable at that season of the year, and added, that it crossed the Joliba at about half a day's journey westward of Bammakoo; and as there were not any canoes large enough to receive his horse, he could not possibly get him over for some months to come. Mr. Park consulted with his landlord how to surmount this difficulty, who informed him that one road which was very rocky, and scarcely passable for horses, still remained, but if he procured a proper guide over the hills to a town called Sibidooloo, he had no doubt but he might travel forwards through Manding. Being informed that a jilli-kea, or singing-man, was about to depart for Sibidooloo, Mr. Park set out in company with him; but when they had proceeded up a rocky glen about two miles, the singing-man discovered that he had brought him the wrong road, as the horse-road lay on the other side of the hill. He then threw his drum upon his back, and mounted up the rocks, where, indeed, no horse could follow him, leaving Mr. Park to admire his agility, and trace out a road for himself.
Mr. Park rode back to the level ground, and following a path, on which he observed the marks of horses' feet, came to some shepherds' huts, where he was informed that he was on the right road to Sibidooloo. In the evening he arrived at a village called Kooma, situated in a delightful valley. This village is the sole property of a Mandingo merchant, who fled thither with his family during a former war. The harmless villagers surrounded Mr. Park, asked him a thousand questions about his country, brought corn and milk for himself, and grass for his horse, and appeared very anxious to serve him.
On the 25th, he departed from Kooma, in company with two shepherds, who were going towards Sibidooloo; but as the horse travelled slowly, and with great difficulty, the shepherds kept walking on at a considerable distance, when on a sudden Mr. Park heard some people calling to each other, and presently a loud screaming, as from a person in great distress. He rode slowly to the place whence the noise proceeded, and in a little time perceived one of the shepherds lying among the long grass near the road. When Mr. Park came close to him, he whispered that a party of armed men had seized his companion, and shot two arrows at himself, as he was making his escape. Mr. Park now stopped to consider what course it was most proper for him to pursue, and looking round, saw, at a small distance, a man sitting on the stump of a tree, and six or seven more sitting among the grass, with muskets in their hands. He had now no hopes of escaping, and therefore rode on towards them, in hopes they were elephant hunters. On coming up to them, he inquired if they had caught any thing, when one of them ordered him to dismount, but appearing suddenly to recollect himself, made signs to him to proceed. He accordingly rode past, but was soon followed by the men, who ordered him to stop, and informed him, that the king of the Foulahs had sent them to bring him his horse, and all that belonged to him, to Fooladoo. Mr. Park turned round, and went with them, till they came to a dark part of the wood, when one of them said, "This place will do," and immediately snatched his hat from his head, another drew a knife, and cut off a metal button that remained upon his waistcoat, and put it into his pocket. They then searched Mr. Park's pockets, examined every part of his apparel, and at length stripped him quite naked. While they were examining the plunder, he begged them, with great earnestness, to return his pocket-compass; but when he pointed it out to them, as it lay on the ground, one of the banditti, thinking he meant to take it up, cocked his musket, and swore he would lay him dead on the spot, if he presumed to lay his hand upon it. After this, some went away with his horse, and the remainder, after some deliberation, returned him the worst of the two shirts and a pair of trousers; and on going away, one of them threw back his hat, in the crown of which he kept his memorandums. After they were gone, Mr. Park sat for some time, looking around him with amazement and terror. "Whatever way I turned," says he, "nothing appeared but danger and difficulty. I saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness, in the depth of the rainy season, naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men still more savage. I was five hundred miles from the nearest European settlement. All these circumstances crowded at once to my recollection, and I confess that my spirits began to fail me. I considered my fate as certain, and that I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. The influence of religion, however, aided and supported me. I reflected that no human prudence or foresight could possibly have averted my present sufferings. I was indeed a stranger in a strange land, yet I was still under the protecting eye of that Providence, who has condescended to call himself the stranger's friend. At this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty of a small moss in fructification irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this, to show from what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation, for though the whole plant was not larger than the top of one of my fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsules, without admiration. Can that Being, thought I, who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look with unconcern upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed after his own image? Surely not. Reflections like these would not allow me to despair. I started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand, and I was not disappointed."
In a short time Mr. Park came to a small village, where he overtook the two shepherds, who had come with him from Koona. They were much surprised to see him, as they expected the Foulahs had murdered him. Departing from this village, they travelled over several rocky ridges, and at sunset arrived at the town of Sibidooloo.
CHAPTER VIII.
Sibidooloo is the frontier town of Manding, and is situated in a fertile valley, surrounded with high rocky hills. The chief man is here called the mansa, which usually signifies king; but it appear that the government of Manding is a sort of republic, as every town has a particular mansa, and the chief power of the state is lodged in an assembly of the whole body.
Mr. Park related to the mansa the circumstance of the robbery, and his story was confirmed by the two shepherds. The mansa continued smoking his pipe while he heard the relation, when, tossing up the sleeve of his coat with an indignant air, "Sit down," said he to Mr. Park, "you shall have every thing restored to you. I have sworn it." Then turning to an attendant, "Give the white man," said he, "a draught of water, and with the first light of the morning go over the hills, and inform the dooty of Bammakoo that a poor white man, the king of Bambarra's stranger, has been robbed by the king of Fouladoo's people."
He heartily thanked the mansa for his kindness, and accepted his invitation, but having waited two days without receiving any intelligence, and there being a great scarcity of provisions, he was unwilling to trespass further on the generosity of his host, and begged permission to depart. The mansa told him, he might go as far as a town called Wonda, and remain there until he heard some account of his property. Accordingly, departing from that place, he reached it on the 30th. The mansa of Wonda was a Mahometan and, as well as chief magistrate of the town, was a schoolmaster. Mr. Park lodged in the school, which was an open shed; the little raiment upon him could neither protect him from the sun by day, nor the dews and mosquitoes by night; his fever returned with great violence, and he could not procure any medicine wherewith to stop its progress. He remained at Wonda nine days, endeavouring to conceal his distress from his landlord, for which purpose, he several times lay down the whole of the day, out of his sight, in a field of corn, yet he found that the mansa was apprised of his situation, for one morning as he feigned to be asleep by the fire, he heard the mansa complain to his wife, that they were likely to find him a very troublesome guest, as, in his present sickly state, they should be obliged, for the sake of their good name, to maintain him till he recovered or died.
The scarcity of provisions was at this time severely felt by the poor people. Mr. Park, having observed every evening five or six women come to the mansa's house, and each receive a portion of corn, inquired of the mansa, whether he maintained these women from charity, or expected a return from the next harvest. "Observe that boy," replied the Mansa, pointing to a fine child about five years of age, "his mother has sold him to me for forty days' provisions for herself and the rest of the family. I have bought another boy in the same manner."