For the next three days his journey was unattended with any worse hardship than having to live upon raw corn, lodging for the night having been obtained without much difficulty. It was different, however, on the evening of the 15th, when, on his arrival at the small village of Song, he was refused admittance within the gates. The numerous footprints which he had seen while on the march had made it abundantly clear that the country was infested with lions. The prospect of spending the night in the open without means of defence was therefore anything but pleasant; but it had to be faced. Hungry and weary himself, he could still think of his horse, and he set about gathering grass for him. With nightfall, no one having offered him food or shelter, he lay down under a tree close to the gate, but dared not allow himself to sleep. With leaden shoon the minutes passed. Every sound was a note of danger, and in a state of painful alertness the outcast wanderer peered into the blackness of night, ever expecting to see a creeping form, or the glitter of two fierce eyes. At length, some time before midnight, a hollow roar suddenly resounded through the wood, apparently coming from no great distance. In the darkness he could see nothing, strain as he might. To sit thus defenceless awaiting his doom, yet not knowing when or whence it would come, was intolerable, and driven frantic at last by the horror of his situation, he rushed to the gate, and madly tugged at it with all the energy of one who struggles for dear life. In vain, his utmost efforts were as little able to move it as were his urgent appeals to touch the hearts of the natives. Meanwhile the lion was all unseen prowling round the village, ever lessening its circle and drawing nearer its prey. At last a rustle among the grass warned Park of its whereabouts and dangerous proximity. A moment more and he would be in its fatal clutches. His sole chance now lay in reaching a neighbouring tree. With a rush he gained and climbed it, and then feeling comparatively safe among the sheltering branches, he prepared to pass the night there. A little later, however, the head man opened the gate and invited the stranger to come within the walls, as he was now satisfied that he was not a Moor, none of whom ever waited any time outside a village without cursing it and all it contained. From Song the country began to rise into hills, and the summits of high mountains could be seen ahead. Even here, however, travelling continued to be a matter of toil and danger, all the hollows through which the road ran being transformed into nasty swamps. At one point Park and his horse fell headlong into an unseen pit, and were almost drowned before, covered with mud, they succeeded in emerging. One of the worst features of such occurrences was the danger he incurred of losing his notes, or finding them rendered useless--a misfortune which would have gone far to bring the results of his toil to naught.