Mr. Park now proceeded towards Sego, the capital of Bambarra, which consists of four distinct towns; two on the northern bank of the Niger, called Sego Korro and Sego Koo, and two on the southern bank, called Sego Soo Korro and Sego See Korro.  The king of Bambarra always resides at the latter place.  He employs a great many slaves to convey people over the river, and the fare paid by each individual, ten kowrie shells, furnishes a considerable revenue.  When Mr. Park arrived at one of the places of embarkation, the people, who were waiting for a passage, looked at him with silent wonder, and he saw with concern many Moors amongst them.  He had continued on the bank more than two hours, without having an opportunity of crossing, during which time information was carried to Mansong, the king, that a white man was coming to see him.  Mansong immediately sent over one of his chief men, who informed Mr. Park that the king could not possibly see him until he knew what had brought him to Bambarra.  He then pointed towards a distant village, and desired Mr. Park to take up his lodgings there, and in the morning he would give him further instructions.

Greatly discouraged at this reception, Mr. Park set off for the village, but found, to his further mortification, that no person would admit him into his house, and that he was regarded with general astonishment and fear.  Thus situated, he sat all day without victuals, under the shade of a tree.  Towards night, the wind arose, and as there was great appearance of a heavy rain, he thought of passing the night among the branches of the trees, to secure himself from wild beasts.  About sunset a woman, returning from the labours of the field, stopped to observe him, and perceiving that he was weary and dejected, inquired into his situation, which he briefly explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took up his saddle and bridle, and told him to follow her.  Having conducted him into her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat on the floor, and told him he might remain there for the night.  She then went out, and returned in a short time with a fine fish, which, having half broiled, she gave him for supper.  After telling him that he might sleep without apprehension, she called to the female part of the family, who stood gazing in fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they employed themselves the greater part of the night.  They lightened their labours by songs, one of which at least was extempore, as their guest was the subject of it.  It was sung by one of the young women, the rest joining in chorus.  The air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were as follow:—­

“The winds roared, and the rains 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 corn.

CHORUS.

Let us pity the white man, no mother has he.” &c.