On my arrival at Kamalia I was conducted to the house of a bushreen named Karfa Taura, the brother of him to whose hospitality I was indebted at Kinyeto.  He was collecting a coffle of slaves, with a view to sell them to the Europeans on the Gambia as soon as the rains should be over.  I found him sitting in his baloon, surrounded by several slatees who proposed to join the coffle.  He was reading to them from an Arabic book, and inquired with a smile if I understood it.  Being answered in the negative, he desired one of the slatees to fetch the little curious book which had been brought from the west country.  On opening this small volume I was surprised and delighted to find it our Book of Common Prayer, and Karfa expressed great joy to hear that I could read it; for some of the slatees, who had seen the Europeans upon the coast, observing the colour of my skin (which was now become very yellow from sickness), my long beard, ragged clothes, and extreme poverty, were unwilling to admit that I was a white man, and told Karfa that they suspected I was some Arab in disguise.  Karfa, however, perceiving that I could read this book, had no doubt concerning me, and kindly promised me every assistance in his power.  At the same time he informed me that it was impossible to cross the Jallonka wilderness for many months yet to come, as no less than eight rapid rivers, he said, lay in the way.  He added that he intended to set out himself for Gambia as soon as the rivers were fordable and the grass burnt, and advised me to stay and accompany him.  He remarked that when a caravan of the natives could not travel through the country it was idle for a single white man to attempt it.  I readily admitted that such an attempt was an act of rashness, but I assured him that I had no alternative, for, having no money to support myself, I must either beg my subsistence by travelling from place to place, or perish for want.  Karfa now looked at me with great earnestness, and inquired if I could eat the common victuals of the country, assuring me he had never before seen a white man.  He added that if I would remain with him until the rains were over, he would give me plenty of victuals in the meantime, and a hut to sleep in; and that after he had conducted me in safety to the Gambia, I might then make him what return I thought proper.  I asked him if the value of one prime slave would satisfy him.  He answered in the affirmative, and immediately ordered one of the huts to be swept for my accommodation.  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 wilds of Jallonkadoo, where the traveller sees no habitation for five successive days.  I had observed at a distance the rapid course of the river Kokoro.  I had almost marked out the place where I was doomed, I thought, to perish, when this friendly negro stretched out his hospitable hand for my relief.