d him. But Park was not the man to turn back, and
he was soon rewarded by finding the king's nephew, who conducted him
in safety to the banks of the Senegal River.

Then he travelled on to the next king, who rejoiced in the name of
Daisy Korrabarri. Here Mungo learnt to his dismay that war was going
on in the province that lay between him and the Niger, and the king
could offer no protection. Still nothing deterred the resolute
explorer, who took another route and continued his journey. Again he
had to travel by night, for robbers haunted his path, which now lay
among Mohammedans. He passed the very spot where Houghton had been
left to die of starvation in the desert. As he advanced through these
inhospitable regions, new difficulties met him. His attendants firmly
refused to move farther. Mungo Park was now alone in the great desert
Negroland, between the Senegal and the Niger, as with magnificent
resolution he continued his way. Suddenly a clear halloo rang out on
the night air. It was his black boy, who had followed him to share
his fate. Onward they went together, hoping to get safely through the
land where Mohammedans ruled over low-caste negroes. Suddenly a party
of Moors surrounded him, bidding him come to Ali, the chief, who wished
to see a white man and a Christian. Park now found himself the centre
of an admiring crowd. Men, women, and children crowded round him,
pulling at his clothes and examining his waistcoat buttons till he
could hardly move. Arrived at Ali's tent, Mungo found an old man with
a long white beard. "The surrounding attendants, and especially the
ladies, were most inquisitive; they asked a thousand questions,
inspected every part of my clothes, searched my pockets, and obliged
me to unbutton my waistcoat and display the whiteness of my skin--they
even counted my toes and fingers, as if they doubted whether I was
in truth a human being." He was lodged in a hut made of corn stalks,
and a wild hog was tied to a stake as a suitable companion for the
hated Christian. He was brutally ill-treated, closely watched, and
insulted by "the rudest savages on earth." The desert winds scorched
him, the sand choked him, the heavens above were like brass, the earth
beneath as the floor of an oven. Fear came on him, and he dreaded death
with his work yet unfinished. At last he escaped from this awful
captivity amid the wilds of Africa. Early one morning at sunrise, he
stepped over the sleeping negroes, seized