Many curious superstitions were noticed by Park _en route_ through Wuli and Tenda. At one place death was believed to be the portion of any one who slept under a particular tree; at another, the fish in the river must not be caught, else the water would dry up entirely; while at a third, any traveller who would assure himself of a safe journey, must lift and turn round a particular stone. At Julifunda the chief made exorbitant demands on the caravan, threatening to attack them in the woods if these were not complied with. Park’s resolute attitude, however, combined with an addition to his first present, brought the quarrel to an amicable conclusion, and he was permitted to continue his route unmolested. The expedition had now reached the eastern confines of the Gambia basin, and writing home to his wife, Park reviewed his situation as follows:-- “We are half through our journey (_i.e._ to the Niger) without the smallest accident or unpleasant circumstance. We all of us keep our health, and are on the most friendly terms with the natives.... By the 27th of June we expect to have finished all our travels by land, and when we have once got afloat on the river, we shall conclude that we are embarking for England. I have never had the smallest sickness, and Alexander (Mrs. Park’s brother) is quite free from all his complaints.... We carry our own victuals with us, and live very well--in fact we have only had a very pleasant journey; and yet this is what we thought would be the worst part of it.” In looking back undoubtedly Park had every reason to be satisfied with his journey so far. His men seemed to have worked heartily enough--at least we find no indications in his journal of insubordination, grumbling, or bad conduct. But then he never was in the habit of putting the least stress on his troubles. It was of more importance to him to be able to say that he had advanced a day’s march nearer the Niger than that he had been subjected to a week’s maddening worry. All vexations and discomforts he treated like the suppressed adventures of his former narrative, of which he said that as they were only of importance to himself, he would not weary the reader with a recital of them. [Illustration: MUNGO PARK’S ENCAMPMENT.]