Niger

Tami had an uproarious welcome from his fellow-
townsmen, Mungo watching with a close curiosity,
and, over one incident, with one of those sudden
flashes of understanding that are as lightning-
flashes in the drabness of his record. This was the
meeting of Tami and his mother.
‘ The blacksmith’s aged mother was led forth,
leaning upon a staff. Everyone made way for her ;
and she stretched out her hand to bid her son
welcome. Being totally blind, she stroked his hands,
arms, and face with great care, and seemed highly
delighted that her latter days were blessed by his
return, and that her ears once more heard the
music of his voice. From this interview I was fully
convinced, that whatever difference there is between
the negro and European in the conformation of the
nose and the colour of the skin, there is none in the
genuine sympathies and characteristic feelings of
our common nature.’
Mungo had sat down in the shade of a hut and
for a while was completely unobserved by the re¬
joicing throng around Tami. That African Ulysses
had launched into telling the tale of his adventures
far from Kasson in the strange lands of the Gambia,
and of his hectic return from there, greatly assisted
by a white traveller. s And there he is,’ concluded
Tami dramatically, pointing to the place where
Mungo sat.
They stared at Mungo as though he had dropped
from the clouds. Jumbo had never seen a white
man before. The woman and children drew away
93