He had now before him a boundless forest, and a country, the inhabitants of which were strangers to civilized life.

He reflected that he had parted from the last European he might probably behold, and perhaps quitted for ever the comforts of Christian society.

These thoughts necessarily cast a gloom over his mind, and he rode musing along for about three miles, when he was awakened from his reverie by a number of people, who, running up, stopped the asses, giving him to understand, that he must either go with them to Peckaba, to present himself to the king of Woolli, or pay customs to them.

He endeavoured to make them comprehend, that not travelling for traffic, he ought not to be subjected to a tax like merchants, but his reasoning was thrown away upon them.

They said it was usual for travellers of all descriptions to make a present to the king of Woolli, and without doing so, none could be permitted to proceed.