"This studied and degrading insolence," says Mr.Park, "to which I was constantly exposed, was one of the bitterest ingredients in the cup of captivity, and often made life itself a burthen to me.

In these distressing moments I have frequently envied the situation of the slave, who, amidst all his calamities, could still possess the enjoyment of his own thoughts, a happiness to which I had for some time, been a stranger.

Wearied out with such continual insults, and perhaps a little peevish from the fever, I trembled, lest my passion might unawares overleap the bounds of prudence, and spur me to some sudden act of resentment, when death must be the inevitable consequence." In this miserable situation he left the hut, and laid down amongst some shady trees, a small distance from the camp, but Ali's son, with a number of horsemen galloping to the place, ordered him to follow them to the king.

He begged them to allow him to remain where he was for a few hours, when one of them presented a pistol towards him, and snapped it twice; he cocked it a third time, and was striking the flint with a piece of steel, when Mr.Park begged him to desist, and returned with them to the camp.

Ali appeared much out of humour, and taking up a pistol fresh primed it, and turning towards Mr.Park with a menacing look, said something to him in Arabic.