ber of mounted negroes, flying from the tyrannical government of that people, to transfer their allegiance to a negro monarch. As they were travelling in the direction he was going, they asked him to join their party, which he thankfully agreed to do. After several days' journey, however, they left him, having better horses, and he had to walk barefoot, his clothes in rags, and driving his horse before him. At a small village by the way, he heard of two negroes who were going to Sego on foot, and he was glad when they agreed to accompany him. Departing from thence, they passed several large villages, where Mungo Park was constantly taken for a Moor, and became the subject of much merriment to the negro inhabitants. Seeing him in such a ragged plight, and driving his horse instead of riding it, they laughed heartily at his appearance. He has been to Mecca," said one, "you may see that by his clothes." Another asked him, in derision, if his horse was sick; whilst a third inquired what he would sell it for. So poverty-stricken did he seem in the eyes even of these poor negroes themselves, that he believed the very slaves were ashamed to be seen in his company. Next day, however, he forgot all these insults and privations on beholding the grand object of his journey, as the smoke of the city of Sego was seen by the morning sun. "As we approached the town," he says, "I was fortunate enough to overtake the fugitive Kaartans, to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my journey through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the king, and we rode together through some marshy ground, where, as I was anxiously looking around for the river, one of them called out, geo affili (see the water), and looking forwards I saw with infinite pleasure the great object of my mission, the long sought-for, majestic Niger, glittering to the morn. ing sun, as broad as the Thames at Westminster, and flowing slowly to the eastward. I hastened to the brink, and, having drank of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in prayer to the Great Ruler of all things for having thus far crowned my endeavours with success." Then with buoyant hopes he proceeded to the great city of Sego, built on both sides of the river. Alas! the hopes of this most patient and resigned of travellers of better treatment from the authorities of this town were doomed to disappointment. As the king's residence was on the opposite side of the river, he went to where passengers and their horses were being ferried across. There he found a great throng of people waiting for a passage. They looked at him with silent wonder, and he distinguished with concern many Moors among them. There were three different places of embarkation, and the ferrymen were very diligent and expeditious; but, from the crowd of people, he could not immediately obtain a passage, and sat down upon the bank of the river to wait for a more favourable opportunity. The view of this extensive city, the numerous canoes upon the river, the crowded population, and the cultivated state of the surrounding country, formed altogether a prospect of civilisation and magnificence which he little expected to find in the bosom of Africa. Meanwhile news of the white man's arrival had been carried to Mansong, the king, and that he was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his chief men, who informed him that the king could not possibly see him until he knew what had brought him to the country, and that he must not cross the river without the king's permission. He therefore advised him to lodge at a distant village. to which he pointed, for the night, and said that in the morning he would give him further instructions. how to conduct himself. This was very discouraging. However, as there was no remedy, he set off for the village, driving his starved horse, himself being in an equally hungry and sorry plight. On his arrival at the village, in expectation of procuring some nourishment for both man and horse, he found to his great mortification that no person would admit him into his house. He was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit all day without victuals, under the shade of a tree. When night came on, it threatened to be very uncomfortable for a houseless wanderer, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance of heavy rain. Besides the discomforts of the elements, he had to fear the dangers of lions and other wild beasts, which were numerous in the neighbourhood, so that he should have been under the necessity of climbing up a tree and resting among the branches. Succour, however, was at hand when he did not. expect it, and that at the hands of a kind-hearted negro woman, who saw that he was a distressed stranger, and she took him in. "About sunset," he writes in his journal, "a woman returning from the labours of the field stopped to observe me, and perceiving that I was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very hungry, she said she would procure me something to eat. She accordingly went out, and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which, having caused to be half broiled upon some embers, she gave me for supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I might sleep there without apprehension) called to the female part of her family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to employ themselves great part of the night. "They lightened their labour by singing songs, one of which was composed extempore, for I was myself the subject of it. It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were these:-'The winds roared and the rain fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk, no wife to grind his Chorus-Let us pity the white man; no mother has he,' &c., &c. Trifling as this recital may appear to the reader, to a person in my situation the circumstance was affecting in the highest degree. I was oppressed by such unexpected kindness, and sleep fled from my eyes. In the morning I presented my compassionate landlady with two of the four brass buttons which remained on my waistcoat, the only recompense I could make her." corn. Thus do we find, on the testimony of one of the most trustworthy travellers that ever explored the wilds of Africa, that there womankind, in its lowliest condition, and under an aspect the least beautiful and fair, are true to the instincts of their nature in succouring suffering humanity in the Days of Distress. |