ABSTRACT
MY guide conducted me to the residence of his brother, who was from home; but a good old negress, who, judging from her wrinkled countenance, must have been sixty years of age, received me into her hut. She spread a bullock’s hide upon the ground for me to sit on, and gave me some soup, consisting of herbs stewed in milk, and seasoned with salt; I could not eat much, for I was feverish and had shivering fits. I lay down on a mat near the fire (it was the old negress’s bed) and fell asleep; but the master of the house arrived, and I was soon roused. He appeared very kind, and gave me some yams, to which he had taken care to add some salt. He then took my bag, saying he would conduct me to the chief of the village, a venerable old man of the tribe of the Bambaras, but professing the religion of Mahomet. The chief received me very well, and made me sit down on a bullock’s hide, near a good fire, which kept his hut free from damp. The brother of my guide, who had conducted me to the chief, was his son. The old man informed me that I must remain with him until the departure of the caravan, which was shortly to set out for Jenné. I therefore returned to the humble dwelling of Baba’s old mother, Alas! little did I think how long I was doomed to be her guest. I gave the good old negress a piece of raw meat, of which the chief had made me a present on my visit to him, and requested her to cook it for my supper. On tasting it I discovered it to be the flesh of the wild boar. I manifested some repugnance to eating it, and began to fear I should compromise myself; but my young guide from Sambatikila, who was less scrupulous, advised me to follow his example, assuring me that the meat was very good. The Mandingoes, notwithstanding their superstition, do not scruple to eat the flesh of the wild boar, though expressly forbidden in the Koran. My host sent me for supper some yams with a fowl, which he had just killed as a treat for us on our arrival.
