Among the many valuable results arising from Clapperton and Denham’s expedition, not the least important was the great encouragement it gave to renewed enterprise. With the successes of these two explorers the tide of evil fortune seemed to have turned, and they had shown that death or failure did not necessarily meet whomsoever had the temerity to seek to unlock the secrets of Ethiopia.

Clapperton, moreover, had brought back with him from Sokoto the most friendly messages from Bello, the Sultan, expressive of his desire for direct intercourse with the British, and pointing out how that intercourse might best be established by way of the Niger and the West Coast, to which, he asserted, his dominions extended. To take advantage of this more hopeful state of affairs, the British Government organised another expedition, once more with the object of settling the vexed question of the Niger termination, and at the same time opening up a way to the rich provinces of Sokoto, Bornu, &c.

Clapperton was again selected as leader, and with him were associated Captain Pearce and Surgeon Morrison.

The Gulf of Benin was chosen as the landing point, the reason being that there they hoped to find the entrance to the river and follow it to Bussa. On their arrival, however, it was deemed advisable not to lose time and health among the interminable creeks and fatal mangrove swamps known to distinguish the probable delta of the Niger. It was known that Haussa caravans were in the habit of annually descending overland to the coast at Badagry, a point a few miles to the west of what is now known as Lagos. With much wisdom and common sense Clapperton and his companions therefore elected to penetrate to the Niger by this route, and after completing their business with Sokoto, to descend the river in canoes.

On the 7th December 1825 the party left the coast. Hardly, however, had they got beyond earshot of the Atlantic rollers, when it seemed as if the fate which had befallen so many earlier ventures was about to overtake Clapperton’s also. Through imprudently sleeping in the open air, they were all attacked by fever. Undismayed and unsubdued, they nevertheless pushed on, staggering forward as best they might. But there were limits to their defiance of disease. Morrison gave in first, and turning to retrace his way to the coast, died on the road. Captain Pearce was the next victim, and he, like the soldier who falls in battle with his face to the foe, dropped on the road, struggling onward to the last.

Though now deprived of both his friends, Clapperton was not yet absolutely alone. He had with him an English servant named Richard Lander, who, with a spirit worthy of such a master, faced all the perils and hardships of the route. Happily, however, by the end of the month the deadly coast belt was safely passed, and healthier lands lay before them. They entered the populous country of Yoruba, with its teeming population, its well cultivated fields, enormous towns, and general air of prosperity. Through Yoruba they passed in a semi-triumphal procession, with no greater trouble to face than the anxiety of the king to keep the white men in his own capital, or the siren wiles of the widow Zuma, who, with her colossal charms, sought to woo them from the path of danger and toil to the flower-strewn haunts of love and ease. Heedless alike, however, of kingly favours and full-fed charms—the widow being fat and twenty—Clapperton held on his way, as also did Lander, who was as little to be seduced from his master’s side as his master from the path of duty.

Clapperton had hoped to reach the Niger at NupÉ, but news of war and bloodshed in that region caused him to deviate from his intended route and strike the great river somewhat higher up. As the fates would have it, he reached the Niger at the very point where Park had ended at once his voyage and his career. Clapperton’s reception seemed to belie the story of Amadi Fatuma as to the manner of Park’s death, but a little investigation proved beyond a doubt the truth of its chief particulars. The natives had attacked him under a misconception as to his nationality, and every one spoke with regret of the unhappy catastrophe. The place was pointed out where the boat and crew were lost.

At this point the river is divided into three channels, none more than twenty yards broad when the water is low. The left branch is the only safe one for canoes, the other two being broken up by rocks into dangerous whirlpools and rapids. Bussa itself stands on an island about three miles long by one and a half broad.

From Bussa, Clapperton passed through NupÉ and across the Haussa States to Kano. Thence he proceeded to join Bello at Sokoto. He arrived, however, at an unfortunate time. Civil war and rebellion were rife on all hands, and it seemed as if the great Fulah Empire was about to fall to pieces as quickly as it had been built up. Bello, in consequence, was in a fit state to listen to all sorts of insinuations as to the causes which brought the Europeans into his country, and the results that were likely to follow. Accordingly, Clapperton’s reception was anything but friendly, and under the worries consequent on his treatment, and the fevers by which he was attacked, he at length succumbed on the 13th April 1827.

Of the members of the expedition there now remained only Richard Lander, who had attached himself to Clapperton with such remarkable fidelity. Three courses were open to him—to return to England by way of the desert and Tripoli, to go back by the way he had come, or thirdly, to attempt to carry out his late master’s intention of tracing the Niger to its mouth. Lander was a man of no ordinary intelligence and character, notwithstanding his subordinate position in life, and as if Clapperton’s mantle had fallen on him, he elected to do what he could to complete the unfinished work.

With this object in view he returned to Kano from Sokoto, and thence started south to reach the Niger, being under the belief that the great river in that direction was the object of his search—while in reality it was another.

In this, however, he failed. He had almost reached the great town of Yakoba, when his progress was stopped, and he was compelled to return to Kano. Thence he made his way back as he had come through Yoruba to Badagry, which he reached on the 21st November 1827.

The unhappy issue of Clapperton’s second expedition somewhat chilled African enterprise for the time being. Our knowledge of the course and termination of the Niger was left exactly where it had been before—though it was made more and more clear that from Bussa it flowed south to Benin. Still the river seemed to lie under some charm fatal to whomsoever should brave it and seek to lift the veil.

The Government began to lose hope, or to conclude that the deadly nature of the climate rendered the discovery of the mouth of the Niger one only of geographical importance. But though they wavered and felt disposed to give up the task, there were still plenty of volunteers eager to make one more attempt.

No matter what the dangers were, Africa had a strange power of fascination which irresistibly drew men under its influence; not those merely who had never set foot on its deadly shore, and who consequently could not fully realise all that travel in Africa meant, but men who had seen their companions die beside them on the road, struck down by disease or the weapon of the savage, and who had themselves known what it was to be at death’s door. It is a species of mesmeric influence this of African travel, irresistibly compelling him who has once come beneath its spell to return again and again, even though at last it be to his death.

Lander was no exception to the rule. He went out to Africa knowing nothing, and probably caring less, for the objects of his master’s expedition. But he was of the right sort to come beneath the fatal charm; and with the death of his master he felt himself consecrated to the work of exploration. In this spirit he returned to England with Clapperton’s journal, only to offer himself for one more effort to complete the task the death of the writer had left unfinished. Such an offer the Government could not very well refuse, though the terms promised by them showed that they had but little faith in a favourable outcome.

But Lander was no longer the servant. African travel had ennobled him and placed him in the roll of her knight-errantry. He knew no sordid motives, asked no pay or other remuneration. Success should be his only reward. His enthusiasm infected his brother John with a like spirit, and caused him to throw in his fortunes with him.

The 22nd March 1830 saw the gallant fellows landed at Badagry. They followed practically the same route as Clapperton’s expedition to Eyeo, from which they were compelled to take a circuitous northerly course to the Niger at Bussa, which they reached in three months from the coast.

After having paid a visit to the King of Yauri some distance up the river, preparations were commenced for the voyage down to the ocean. With difficulty two canoes were obtained, but at length, on the 20th September, everything was ready for departure. Before pushing clear of the land, the Landers “humbly thanked the Almighty for past deliverances, and fervently prayed that He would always be with us and crown our enterprise with success.” Having thus placed themselves under Divine protection, the word was given to push off, and away the canoes glided towards their uncertain bourne.

The first part of the voyage lay through a narrow valley bounded by metamorphic hills, through which the river wound its way in broad curving reaches, broken up at times by inhabited islands, which rose precipitously from the dark waters, and gave variety to the scene. Majestic trees lined the banks, and lent their own peculiar charm to the panoramic landscape, while village and cultivated field spoke of industrious inhabitants. From the latter they had nothing to fear—on the contrary, the travellers were everywhere received hospitably, and sent on their way with prayers for their safety and food for their wants. A more instant danger lay in the numerous rocks which thrust their crests above the water, or more treacherously lay hid beneath, requiring constant watchfulness.

Soon this rocky section was passed, and the district of NupÉ entered.

Here the river, emerging from the metamorphic hills, turns eastward and widens, flowing through a broad valley whose precipitous sides form the escarpments of a low sandstone plateau-land. This section is scantily inhabited and sparsely wooded, on account of the fact that while the river is in flood, the great plains which form the bottom of the valley are submerged, and the river assumes the aspect of a lake.

Sixty miles further down is a picturesque range of mountains—now called Rennell’s—shortly after passing which comes the town of Egga. From thence the broad valley begins to narrow, and the river to wind in sharp curves through the low sandstone gorges, till, turning sharply to the south, it enters a lake-like expanse, where the Landers found that a large tributary from the east, which they conjectured to be the Tchadda or BenuÉ, joined the main stream. This was the river which Clapperton had confounded with the Shari, though M‘Queen had worked out its true relationship to the Niger system.

Immediately beyond the point of junction, the Niger leaves the sandstone plateau and passes through a series of bold picturesque mountains by a narrow gorge, guarded on either side by isolated peaks and table-topped mountains, which frown over the waters in defiant, barren ruggedness. As if to stop all ingress or egress, small islands and hidden rocks rise in mid-stream, round which the swift currents of the contracted river angrily sweep and swirl.

This natural gateway passed, the river expands again into majestic reaches, sunning its full bosom under the tropic sun, unbroken by rock or island. The mountains fall into gentle undulations, and these again into a limitless, flat expanse, but little raised above the level of the river. With every mile the vegetation grows more and more luxuriant, more and more prodigal, till the primeval forest lies before the traveller in all its height and depth and solemnity. Never before had the brothers Lander seen such trees, such a profusion of shrubs, such a tangle of varied creepers.

Here and there villages, charmingly adorned with nodding palms, peeped cosily from their bosky corners in the dark protecting forest. Near the houses stood or lolled groups of scantily clothed natives, passing the lazy hours away in dreamy idleness, as became the lords of creation. Children, naked as the day they were born, gambolled in the river like frogs; and women, ever at work, busied themselves with domestic cares. At some places battle had been given to the rank luxuriance of nature, and small clearings made in the forest for the raising of yams, beans, or sugar-canes.

Not least inviting in the scene was the Niger itself. Now it spread before the voyagers like a beautiful lake, ringed with fringing festooned trees, and flashing brilliantly under the rays of the tropic sun. Again, far ahead, the forest frame opened and displayed the serpentine course of the silvery river, edged with yellow banks of sand. Canoes were seen gliding swiftly down stream, or with more laborious paddling were forced upward against the current. On the banks left by the falling waters, crocodiles disposed their repulsive length like rotting logs of wood, while in the deeper pools the hippos snorted defiance. Waterfowl in great numbers skimmed along the surface of the water, fished in the shallows, or rested on terra firma.

The scene was arcadian and fascinating seen from the river. A closer acquaintance did not enhance its attractiveness. The voyagers were now among a people far different from those above the confluence of the Niger and the BenuÉ (Tchadda). Here were only Pagan savages, steeped in the lowest barbarism, and ruled by the grossest superstition. Murder and plunder were in congenial union with fetishism and cannibalism, and hospitality was unknown. Only by force could Lander get his men to venture into this dangerous region. That their fears were not mere fancies was speedily proved on the very first occasion of landing, and again later on they only escaped utter destruction, to fall into semi-captivity to a party of men in large canoes who were up river ready to trade with the strong, and to attack and plunder the weak.

The travellers now found themselves among people who came from near the sea, and who had not only heard of, but had actually traded with Europeans. It was therefore in no despondent mood that they submitted to their fate, and proceeded on their way, the captives of the Ibo.

Soon it was clear that the delta of the river had been reached. From being a united volume of water it began to break up into numerous branches, running in all directions. At the apex of the delta the land was dry, and clad with palm oil groves and silk cotton trees. Gradually, however, these disappeared, and as the dry land gave place to hybrid swamp, the mangrove asserted its ownership. Nature then showed as repulsive an aspect as is to be met with in any other region on the face of the globe—what was swamp when the tide was out resembling a submerged forest when the tide was in, and both then and at all other times, reeking with pestilential vapours from the slimy mud oozing from between the octopus-like roots of the mangrove.