The last and worst stroke of evil fortune that could befall Park came upon him in the form of his brother-in-law Anderson’s death, which occurred on the 28th October. He had been Park’s special support in all his trials, ever the one to whom he could open his heart, or from whom he could seek advice and encouragement. His thoughts and feelings on the occasion, Park, with characteristic reserve, does not put on paper, though he cannot help observing “that no event which took place during the journey ever threw the smallest gloom on my mind till I laid Mr. Anderson in the grave. I then felt myself as if left a second time lonely and friendless amidst the wilds of Africa.” CHAPTER XXIII. _THE LAST OF PARK._ By the middle of November the last preparations for the great voyage on the Niger were completed. Isaaco had been paid off, and one Amadi Fatuma, a native of Karson, and a great traveller, hired in his place to guide the party to Kashna, which Park still believed to be on the river. To Isaaco, Park’s precious journal was entrusted for conveyance home. On the 17th November, dating from “On board of H.M. schooner _Joliba_, at anchor off Sansandig,” Park wrote to Lord Camden. After some remarks on his situation, he continues-- “From this account I am afraid that your Lordship will be apt to consider matters as in a very hopeless state, but I assure you I am far from desponding. With the assistance of one of the soldiers I have changed a large canoe into a tolerably good schooner, on board of which I shall set sail to the east, with the fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger or perish in the attempt. I have heard nothing I can depend on respecting the remote course of this mighty stream, but I am more and more inclined to think that it can end nowhere but in the sea. “My dear friend Mr. Anderson, and likewise Mr. Scott, are both dead; but though all the Europeans who are with me should die, and though I were myself half dead, I would still persevere, and if I could not succeed in the object of my journey, I would at least die on the Niger. If I succeed in the object of my journey, I expect to be in England in the month of May or June, by way of the West Indies.” On the 19th he wrote to his wife-- “ ... I am afraid that, impressed with a woman’s fears and the anxieties of a wife, you may be led to consider my situation as a great deal worse than it is.... The rains are completely over, and the healthy season has commenced, so that there is no danger of sickness, and I have still a sufficient force to protect me from any insult in sailing down the river to the sea.