We Reached Jindey The Same Day, Having Crossed The Walli Creek, A Branch
Of The Gambia, And Rested At The House Of A Black Woman, Who Had Formerly
Been The _Chere Amie_ Of A White Trader Named Hewett; And Who, In
Consequence Thereof, Was Called, By Way Of Distinction, _Seniora_.
In the
evening we walked out to see an adjoining village, belonging to a Slatee
named Jemafoo Mamadoo, the richest of all the Gambia traders.
We found
him at home; and he thought so highly of the honour done him by this
visit, that he presented us with a fine bullock, which was immediately
killed, and part of it dressed for our evening's repast. The Negroes do
not go to supper till late, and in order to amuse ourselves while our
beef was preparing, a Mandingo was desired to relate some diverting
stories; in listening to which, and smoking tobacco, we spent three
hours. These stories bear some resemblance to those in the Arabian Nights
Entertainments; but, in general, are of a more ludicrous cast. I shall
here abridge one of them for the reader's amusement. "Many years ago,
(said the relator,) the people of Doomasansa (a town on the Gambia) were
much annoyed by a lion, that came every night, and took away some of
their cattle. By continuing his depredations, the people were at length
so much enraged, that a party of them resolved to go and hunt the
monster. They accordingly proceeded in search of the common enemy, which
they found concealed in a thicket; and immediately firing at him, were
lucky enough to wound him in such a manner, that, in springing from the
thicket towards the people, he fell down among the grass, and was unable
to rise.
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