remain with him, and share his
provisions, until the messenger returned. Mr. Park accepted the kind
offer most gratefully: and in a few days his horse and clothes were
restored to him.

At the village of Nemacoo, where corn was so scarce that the people
were actually in a state of starvation, a negro pitied his distress
and brought him food.

At Kamalia, Mr. Park was earnestly dissuaded by an African named Karfa,
from attempting to cross the Jalonka wilderness during the rainy season;
to which he replied that there was no alternative--for he was so poor,
that he must either beg his subsistence from place to place, or perish
with hunger. Karfa eagerly inquired if he could eat the food of the
country, adding that, if he would stay with him, he should have plenty
of victuals, and a hut to sleep in; and that after he had been safely
conducted to the Gambia, he might make what return he thought proper.
He was accordingly provided with a mat to sleep on, an earthern jar for
holding water, a small calabash for a drinking cup, and two meals a
day, with a supply of wood and water, from Karfa's own dwelling. Here
he recovered from a fever, which had tormented him several weeks. His
benevolent landlord came daily to inquire after his health, and see that
he had every thing for his comfort. Mr. Park assures us that the simple
and affectionate manner of those around him contributed not a little to
his recovery. He adds, "Thus was I delivered, by the friendly care of
this benevolent negro, from a situation truly deplorable. Distress and
famine pressed hard upon me; I had before me the gloomy wilderness of
Jallonkadoo, where the traveller sees no habitation for five successive
days. I had observed, at a distance, the rapid course of the river
Kokaro, and had almost marked out the place where I thought I was
doomed to perish, when this friendly negro stretched out his hospitable
hand for my relief." Mr. Park having travelled in company with a coffle
of thirty-five slaves, thus describes his feelings as they came near
the coast: "Although I was now approaching the end of my tedious
and toilsome journey, and expected in another day to meet with
countrymen and friends, I could not part with my unfortunate
fellow-travellers,--doomed as I knew most of them to be, to a life
of slavery in a foreign land,--without great emotion. During a
peregrination of more than five hundred miles, exposed to the burning
rays of a tropical sun, these poor