After leaving the rabble that followed us out of the town, I proceeded in what my Kroomen insisted was the right road to Potingah, and, after a ride of two hours, was much annoyed to be told by a man who overtook us on horseback, driving a string of slaves before him to market, that we had taken the wrong path after passing the first ravine, and were considerably to the northward of our course. Being already much fatigued and rather startled at the information, I rode up to a farm-house, where I was welcomed by the women, and lay down in the shade for 236a short time, until the proprietor of the house came. I engaged him to conduct us to Potingah, and we set out again, my conductor holding me on my horse, as the sun was now very powerful and my weakness fast increasing. I was unable to proceed far, and in an hour’s time was obliged to stop and be lifted off again at another farm-house, where I lay for some time almost in a state of insensibility.