Not too long ago, the interior of Africa was a sealed book to the civilized world. The sunny fountains, the golden sands, the palmy plains of Africa were to be traced in the verses of the poet; but he dealt neither in latitude nor longitude. The maps presented a terra incognita, where modern travelers have found rivers, lakes, and alluvial basins, or exhibited barren wastes, where recent discoveries find rich meadows annually flowed, studded with walled towns and cities, enlivened by herds of cattle, or cultivated in plantations of maize and cotton. Jack Donahue takes us back to the forefront of the age of African exploration, the mid-1800s, with first person accounts from those who were there.