"In the afternoon," says Richard Lander, "the king came to see us, followed by a man with a book under his arm, which was said to have been picked up in the Niger after the loss of our countryman. It was enveloped in a large cotton cloth, and our hearts beat high with expectation as the man was slowly unfolding it, for, by its size, we guessed it to be Mr. Park's Journal; but our disappointment and chagrin were great when, on opening the book, we discovered it to be an old nautical publication of the last century."
There was then no further hope of recovering Park's journal.
On the 23rd June the Landers left Boussa, filled with gratitude to the king, who had given them valuable presents, and warned them to accept no food, lest it should be poisoned, from any but the governors of the places they should pass through. They travelled alongside of the Niger as far as Kagogie, where they embarked in a wretched native canoe, whilst their horses were sent on by land to Yaoorie.
"We had proceeded only a few hundred yards," says Richard Lander, "when the river gradually widened to two miles, and continued as far as the eye could reach. It looked very much like an artificial canal, the steep banks confining the water like low walls, with vegetation beyond. In most places the water was extremely shallow, but in others it was deep enough to float a frigate. During the first two hours of the day the scenery was as interesting and picturesque as can be imagined. The banks were literally covered with hamlets and villages; fine trees, bending under the weight of their dark and impenetrable foliage, everywhere relieved the eye from the glare of the sun's rays, and, contrasted with the lively verdure of the little hills and plains, produced the most pleasing effect. All of a sudden came a total change of scene. To the banks of dark earth, clay, or sand, succeeded black, rugged rocks; and that wide mirror which reflected the skies, was divided into a thousand little channels by great sand-banks."
A little further on the stream was barred by a wall of black rocks, with a single narrow opening, through which its waters rushed furiously down. At this place there is a portage, above which the Niger flows on, restored to its former breadth, repose, and grandeur.