Great African Travellers: From Mungo Park to Livingstone and Stanley

by William Henry Giles Kingston

As he was riding on, Park found Mr Scott lying by the side of the path, too sick to walk, and, shortly afterwards, Lieutenant Martyn lay down in the same state.

Pushing on to the town of Mareena, Park sent back a party to bring in his sick companions.

Hence they proceeded to Bangassi, six miles distant, the capital of the Chief Serenummo. While encamped outside, one of the sick men, who had been left under the shade of a tree, was nearly being torn to pieces by wolves, which he found, on awakening, smelling at his feet. Ill as he was, he started up and rushed to the camp.

Here the corporal died, and several soldiers, as well as one of the carpenters, insisted on being left behind. Park handed to the dooty’s son a quantity of amber and other articles of trade, that the poor men might be taken care of.

Poor Park’s troubles increased. Mr Scott, who rode his horse, continued very ill, and the soldiers were so weak that, when the loads fell off the asses, they were unable to lift them on again. In the course of one day’s march Park himself had to assist in re-loading thirteen of the animals. The caravan was also followed by wolves, who prowled round them during the night, showing too plainly what would be the fate of any of the sick men who dropped behind. Provisions also became scarce, and thieves likewise dodged their footsteps, taking every opportunity of robbing them.

On the 10th of August, as Park, who was bringing up the rear, reached a stream, he found many of the soldiers sitting on the ground, and Mr Anderson was lying under a bush, apparently dying. He took his brother-in-law on his back, and carried him across the stream, though it took him up to his middle. He had then to carry other loads, and get the animals over, having thus to cross sixteen times. He then put Mr Anderson on his horse and conveyed him to the next village, where, however, a solitary fowl was the only food he could obtain.

During the last two marches four more men had been lost, and, though Mr Scott was somewhat recovered, Mr Anderson was in a very dangerous state. He struggled on, however, for another day, when, after he had passed a number of sick men, Mr Anderson declared that he could ride no further. Park, having turned the horses and ass to feed, sat down in the shade to watch the pulsations of his dying friend. In the evening, there being a fine breeze, Mr Anderson agreed to make another attempt to move on, in the hopes of reaching a town before dark. They had not proceeded above a mile, when they heard a noise very much like the bark of a large mastiff, but ending in a hiss like that of a cat. Mr Anderson was observing: “What a bouncing fellow that must be,” when another bark nearer to them was heard, and presently a third, accompanied by a growl a short distance further. Coming to an opening in the bushes, three enormous lions of a dusky colour were seen bounding over the long grass, abreast of each other, towards them. Fearing that, should they come near, and his piece miss fire, the lions would seize them, Park advanced and shot at the centre one. The animals stopped, looked at each other, and then bounded away, and, though one again stopped while he was loading his piece, they all disappeared. The lions, however, followed him; but Mr Anderson having a boatswain’s call, Park took it and whistled, and made as much noise as possible, so that they did not again molest him. Notwithstanding Mr Anderson’s reduced condition he persevered in travelling, and, being placed in a hammock constructed out of a cloak, was carried along by two men. Mr Scott, however, complaining of sickness, shortly afterwards dropped behind.

On entering Doomblia during heavy rain, greatly to his satisfaction Park met Kafa Taura, the worthy negro merchant who had been so kind to him on his former journey. He had now come a considerable distance to see him.

From hence he sent back to enquire for Mr Scott, but no information could be obtained about him.

On the 19th of August the sad remnant of the expedition ascended the mountainous ridge which separates the Niger from the remote branches of the Senegal. Mr Park hastened on ahead, and, coming to the brow of the hill, once more saw the mighty river making its way in a broad stream through the plain.