March 5.—­We departed from Sampaka at daylight.  About noon we stopped a little at a village called Dangali, and in the evening arrived at Dalli.  We saw upon the road two large herds of camels feeding.  When the Moors turn their camels to feed they tie up one of their fore-legs to prevent their straying.  This happened to be a feast-day at Dalli, and the people were dancing before the dooty’s house.  But when they were informed that a white man was come into the town they left off dancing and came to the place where I lodged, walking in regular order, two and two, with the music before them.  They play upon a sort of flute; but instead of blowing into a hole in the side they blow obliquely over the end, which is half shut by a thin piece of wood; they govern the holes on the side with their fingers, and play some simple and very plaintive airs.  They continued to dance and sing until midnight, during which time I was surrounded by so great a crowd as made it necessary for me to satisfy their curiosity by sitting still.

March 6.—­We stopped here this morning because some of the townspeople, who were going for Goomba on the day following, wished to accompany us; but in order to avoid the crowd of people which usually assembled in the evening we went to a negro village to the east of Dalli, called Samee, where we were kindly received by the hospitable dooty, who on this occasion killed two fine sheep, and invited his friends to come and feast with him.

March 7.—­Our landlord was so proud of the honour of entertaining a white man that he insisted on my staying with him and his friends until the cool of the evening, when he said he would conduct me to the next village.  As I was now within two days’ journey of Goomba, I had no apprehensions from the Moors, and readily accepted the invitation.  I spent the forenoon very pleasantly with these poor negroes; their company was the more acceptable, as the gentleness of their manners presented a striking contrast to the rudeness and barbarity of the Moors.  They enlivened their conversation by drinking a fermented liquor made from corn—­the same sort of beer that I have described in a former chapter; and better I never tasted in Great Britain.

In the midst of this harmless festivity, I flattered myself that all danger from the Moors was over.  Fancy had already placed me on the banks of the Niger, and presented to my imagination a thousand delightful scenes in my future progress, when a party of Moors unexpectedly entered the hut, and dispelled the golden dream.  They came, they said, by Ali’s orders, to convey me to his camp at Benowm.  If I went peaceably, they told me, I had nothing to fear; but if I refused they had orders to bring me by force.  I was struck dumb by surprise and terror, which the Moors observing endeavoured to calm my apprehensions by repeating the assurance that I had nothing to fear.  Their visit, they added, was occasioned by the curiosity of Ali’s wife