About ten in the morning, we commenced our journey; Arafanba, the two saracolets, and the Foulah, conducted me as far as the bank of a rivulet, which the natives call Oulaba, and which waters the neighbourhood of Sambatikila; we crossed in a wretched canoe, which was nearly upset more than once: it was made out of a single tree, but was now old, broken, and patched with pieces of rotten pagne, which would not keep out the water; fortunately the stream was not very wide, and we arrived at the right bank without accident. Arafanba accompanied me for a mile, and parted from me with great regret, after charging my guide to take care of me. Arafanba was the most amiable and agreeable Mandingo I had seen; and (what even now surprises me when I think of it) he never asked me for any thing, and appeared quite contented with the very moderate present which my means allowed me to make. We travelled E.S.E. for two miles, over a very fine black mould, intermingled with gravel; I saw only a few poor fields of foigné not yet in flower, though the harvest was over in Wassoulo; we crossed a tottering bridge, and arrived at Cagnanso, a little walled village which we did not enter. I noticed a shop belonging to some smiths, who were not better lodged than those which were on the coast; they make, however, agricultural implements, poniards, bracelets, and barbs for their arrows; the iron they use comes from Fouta-Dhialon. The environs of this village, which are inhabited by Bambaras, are uncultivated, but thickly studded with large trees, and covered with straw, which last impeded my progress greatly, causing me terrible pain, by fretting my wound and rubbing off the plaster; this, added to the water which covered the roads, and the rain which fell in torrents, fatigued me extremely. I longed to find a shelter where I might rest myself; we nevertheless continued our journey towards the S.S.E. After walking seven miles, we passed Coro, another walled Bambara village, which contains about four or five hundred inhabitants; the environs are no better cultivated than those of Cagnanso. We proceeded six miles further to the south; the country is woody and flat, and the road covered with gravel, which rendered walking very fatiguing. I saw no signs of cultivation, and we crossed several marshes. About three o’clock we halted, thoroughly fatigued, at Timicoro, a small Bambara village. The environs are woody, and covered with high straw; the fields are five or six miles from the huts, whether on account of the soil being better, or to save the grain from the ravages of goats and poultry, I know not. My guide took me to the house of one of his acquaintance, who supplied us with a small, damp, and dirty lodging. I had a good fire lighted immediately to dry my coussabe and my breeches; for the rain had been pelting at our backs all day; it continued through the night, and it was a small constant rain, which rendered the air cold. At this village I saw many goats and fowls,