Mr. Park’s route now lay through woods, much infested with all kinds of wild animals.  On one occasion, his guide suddenly wheeled his horse round, calling out (Warra billi billi, a very largo lion.) Mr. Park’s steed was ill fitted to convey him from the scene of danger, but seeing nothing, he supposed his guide to be mistaken, when the latter exclaimed, “God preserve me;” and Mr. Park then saw a very large red lion, with his head couched between his fore paws.  His eyes were fixed, as by fascination, on this sovereign of the beasts, and he expected every moment the fatal spring; but the savage animal, either not pressed by hunger, or struck with some mysterious awe, remained immovable, and allowed the party to pass without molestation.  Real misery arose from a meaner cause, namely, the amazing swarms of mosquitoes, which ascended from the swamps and creeks, to whose attack, from the ragged state of his garments, he was exposed at every point, and so covered over with blisters, that he could not get any rest at night.  An affecting crisis next arrived.  His horse, the faithful and suffering companion of his journey, had been daily becoming weaker.  At length, stumbling over some rough ground, he fell; all his master’s efforts were insufficient to raise him, and no alternative remained, but to leave the poor animal, which Mr. Park did, after collecting some grass and laying it before him, not without, however, a sad presentiment, that, ere long, he also might have to lie down and perish with hunger and fatigue.

Proceeding along the banks of the river, he reached Kea, a small fishing village.  The dooty, a surly old man, received him very coolly, and when Mr. Park solicited his protection, replied with great indifference, that he should not enter his house.  Mr. Park knew not now where to rest, but a fishing canoe at that moment coming down the river, the dooty waved to the fisherman to land, and desired him to take charge of the stranger as far as Moorzan.

When the canoe had proceeded about a mile down the river, the fisherman paddled to the bank, and having desired Mr. Park to jump out, tied the canoe to a stake; he then stripped off his clothes, and dived into the water, where he remained so long that Mr. Park thought he was drowned, when he suddenly raised up his head astern of the canoe, and called for a rope.  With this rope he dived a second time, and then got into the canoe, and with the assistance of the boy, they brought up a large basket, ten feet in diameter, containing two fine fish, which the fisherman carried ashore, and hid in the grass.  The basket was then returned into the river, and having proceeded a little further down, they took up another basket, in which was one fish.

About four o’clock, they arrived at Moorzan, where Mr. Park was conveyed across the river to Silla, a large town.  Here he remained under a tree, surrounded by hundreds of people, till it was dark, when, with a great deal of entreaty, the dooty allowed him to enter his balloon to avoid the rain, but the place was very damp, and his fever returned.