Mungo Park, Life and Travels of Mungo Park
“ Some of the troops were bathing, others watering their horses, bullocks, camels and asses: the lake was as smooth as glass, and flowing around the roots of the trees. The sun, on its approach to the horizon, throws the shadows of the flowery acacias along its surface, like sheets of burnished gold and silver. The smoking fires on its banks, the sounding of horns, the beating of their gongs or drums, the braying of their brass and tin trumpets, the rude hut of grass and branches of trees rising as if by magic, everywhere the cries of Mohamed, Abdo, Mustafa, &c. ”
