# Lake Ngami/Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX.
The vessel which brought the missionary stores to Walfisch Bay every second year was expected in December, and by this opportunity we hoped to be able to return to Europe, or at least to the Cape. In order, however, to insure a passage, Mr. Galton dispatched a messenger to his banker in Cape-Town to make the needful arrangements. In the mean time, as we had still several months on our hands, Galton resolved to employ the interval in making an ​excursion to the eastward, partly with the view of penetrating to the Lake Ngami, our original object, and partly to become better acquainted with Great Namaqua-land and its semi-civilized inhabitants. Moreover, the prospect of good sport with the larger game, which every one said we were sure to meet with in abundance, was a further inducement to undertake the journey.
It was arranged that Hans should proceed to Walfisch Bay with one of the vehicles to fetch the remainder of the stores, &c., while Galton and myself, with the other wagon, prosecuted our journey to the eastward. A rendezvous having been appointed where Hans was to meet us, we left Barmen in the afternoon of the 12th of August. In about three days we reached Eikhams, the residence, as already said, of Jonker Afrikaner; where my friend, before finally leaving the country, was anxious to settle certain disputes between the native tribes.
Eikhams is very prettily situated on the slope of a hill, bare at the summit, but at its base adorned with very fine groups of mimosas, among which a tributary to the Swakop winds its course. It was the only spot in South Africa where I ever saw any thing resembling a twilight. This was produced from the reflection of the setting sun on the peaks of the picturesque mountain ranges by which it is almost entirely surrounded.
Eikhams is abundantly supplied with water from three or four copious springs, and the site of these springs being elevated, the land in the lower ground is easily irrigated. The natives construct gardens, wherein they grow many sorts of vegetables, some of which arrive at perfection. The soil is exceedingly fertile, and seems well suited to the cultivation of tobacco. Taking it as a whole, Eikhams is the prettiest place I ever saw either in Damara-land or Namaqua-land.
About twenty minutes' walk from Eikhams is a bountiful hot spring. The water, just where it gushes out from the ​limestone rock, has a temperature of 194 degrees of Fahrenheit. Mr. Hahn informed me that here, on one occasion, he boiled a piece of meat, and that, though not quite so good as when dressed in the ordinary manner, it was not unpalatable.
Eikhams, as already said, was formerly a Rhenish missionary station. It was founded so far back as 1843 by the Rev, C. H. Hahn, resident at New Barmen in Damara-land. After a time, however, it was given up to the Wesleyan Society, which sent Mr. Haddy to reside there. This gentleman erected an excellent dwelling-house and a most substantial church. For a while the mission flourished, but was latterly abandoned, and the station is now rapidly falling into decay. This, I am sorry to say, has been the fate of many other institutions of a similar nature in Southern Africa.
Among other gifts, Mr. Galton presented Jonker with a splendid cocked hat and richly-gilt uniform: a court dress, in fact, that had once probably adorned the person of some great man when paying his respects to majesty, and with which the African chief expressed himself highly gratified.
Being desirous of obtaining a likeness of so famous a personage as Afrikaner, I requested him one day to put on this costume and allow me to take his portrait. He good-naturedly consented to my solicitation, and on the following morning appeared duly appareled. We rather expected to have a laugh at him, since his gait and figure were somewhat unprepossessing; but we were disappointed. He marched up to his seat with as much ease and dignity as if he were familiar with the usage of courts.
JONKER AFRIKANER.
country, Mr. Galton secured his services for our tour to the eastward, and he proved of the greatest assistance.
On arriving at Eikhams Mr. Galton imagined that his business with Jonker would soon be arranged; but in this part of the world expedition is not the order of the day, and we were therefore so long delayed as to prevent our departure until the 30th of August.
In the course of our journey we encountered a great number and variety of wild animals, and consequently our larder was well supplied. Indeed, in a few hours, on a certain night, I bagged no less than three hartebeests, two pallahs, and five zebras, and, had I felt inclined, might have shot ​ WILD BOAR'S HEAD. double this number. We also observed a few wild boars.
After a fortnight's harassing travel we arrived at Elephant Fountain, formerly a Wesleyan missionary station. It was founded in 1847 by the Rev. Mr. Tindal, but had of late years been abandoned in consequence of a destructive fever, which carried off many of the natives. Even the few Europeans settled there suffered severely. It was situated within the territory of the chief Amral, who was born and bred in the Cape Colony, and, if I am not misinformed, was raised to his present dignity partly through missionary influence.
Elephant Fountain is chiefly inhabited by Hill-Damaras, who cultivate extensive gardens of tobacco, &c. Game was abundant thereabout, but we had not then time to look after it.
From Elephant Fountain eastward the country was represented as very sandy and bushy, and, as our oxen were in a very indifferent condition, we determined to leave the wagon behind in charge of John Mortar, the cook, and to prosecute our journey with pack-and-ride oxen. Amral, with a great number of the tribe, expressed a wish to accompany us, chiefly for the sake of the anticipated sport. As we traveled on we were joined by Lambert, his son, and other Namaquas, with their attendants, till at last our party amounted to several hundred individuals.
After no little inconvenience and misery, on account of the great heat, the terrible drought, and scarcity of pasturage about the few and widely-separated watering-places, we reached Tunobis, or Otjombindè, on the 3d of October. According to Mr. Galton's observations, this place is situated in latitude 21° 55′ and 21° 55′ east longitude.
​The Bushmen who inhabited these parts declared that the country between here and the Ngami was then impassable, and that any attempt on our part to reach it would be certain destruction to ourselves and cattle. Though we did not altogether credit their story, we felt that, under the circumstances, it would have been highly imprudent to proceed farther.
From a rough calculation, we concluded that we could not be above nine or ten days' journey from the lake, and it was, therefore, with no little reluctance that we gave up the attempt. However, it was all for the best, and we ought, indeed, to be grateful to the natives for their truthful information. From after experience, I am quite confident that, had we tried to push on that year, nothing could have saved us and our beasts of burden from perishing from thirst. After leaving Tunobis, we should not have met with water for at least three days and a half of actual travel, besides the necessary delays. To perform this, even with fresh animals, would perhaps have been a thing unheard-of in these regions, but the difficulty was magnified by the state of our cattle, which were now reduced to skeletons. Indeed, even before reaching Tunobis, some of them had been left behind from sheer exhaustion.
I must confess that, on first reading my friend's narrative, I was somewhat startled on coming upon his pleasant assertion that he did not much care about reaching Lake Ngami. It is true that, when landing at Walfisch Bay, we had but little hope of arriving there; but, at least for my own part, I had always conceived the great goal of our journey to be precisely the Ngami. Moreover, with regard to his supposition that the country hence toward the lake was comparatively open and free from bushes, and that, consequently, a road to it could be traced without the slightest difficulty, I can only say that shortly after leaving Tunobis—not to mention, the scarcity of water—the bush becomes so dense, and ​the thorns so tormenting, that I found it necessary to make immense détours, and even then all our clothes, pack-saddles, &c., were literally torn to ribbons.
The few days that we remained at Tunobis were spent profitably and pleasantly. Besides much interesting information of the country, derived from the Bushmen, part of which has since been substantiated, we had abundant shooting. From the absence of water within a distance of two or three days' journey of the place, the number of animals that nightly congregated here to quench their thirst was truly astonishing.
To give the reader an idea of the immense quantity of game hereabouts, I may mention that, in the course of the few days we remained at Tunobis, our party shot, among other animals, upward of thirty rhinoceroses. One night, indeed, when quite alone, I killed, in the space of five hours (independently of other game), no less than eight of those beasts, among which were three distinct species; and it is my belief that if I had persevered I might have destroyed double the number. But I never took delight in useless slaughter. In our case, and I think I may say in all cases where I have been concerned in killing a great number of wild beasts, not a pound of flesh was ever wasted, for what we did not require for our own use was devoured by the natives.
As another evidence of the enormous quantity of game in this region, I may state that the fountain in question, which was a copious one—nay, apparently inexhaustible—was almost nightly drunk dry.
On several occasions I had narrow escapes from being gored by the horns of these ugly monsters. Thus one ​animal, on receiving a mortal wound, charged me with such fury as to carry completely away the fore part of my “skärm,” and I only saved my life by throwing myself with great force against the opposite wall, which fortunately gave way.
At another time I was walking leisurely up to a huge female white rhinoceros, that Mr. Galton had killed during the preceding night, when all at once its calf, about the size of an ox, rushed upon me from behind the carcass. Its movements were so rapid that I had neither time to get out of its way nor to level my gun; but passing the barrel, like a stick, against its chest, I ﬁred, and, as luck would have it, the ball caused the calf to swerve on one side and take itself off. A short time afterward, and at no great distance from our encampment, it was found dead.
Being tired of shooting, and having got all the information we could from the Bushmen, we bent our steps homeward. Our failure in not reaching the Lake Ngami deeply mortiﬁed me. Night and day I was haunted by the thought. Taking every thing into consideration, I could not help thinking that, under more favorable circumstances, success would crown my endeavors, were I determined to renew the attempt. Accordingly, I made up my mind ﬁrst to see my friend safe from the African shore, and then to return as soon as the rains had fallen.
I communicated my resolve to Mr. Galton, who at once fully entered into my views; and as I had neither oxen nor wagons, he kindly promised to supply me with both, as also with such articles of barter as his own reduced stores afforded.
After nearly a month's absence, we found ourselves safe at Elephant Fountain. Notwithstanding we had been almost solely living on fresh meat during this time, we had only used the one half of a small copper-cap box of salt! I ​mention the circumstance to show that salt is not strictly necessary to man's existence. Moreover, excepting once or twice at the missionary table, we had not tasted bread for months. I had so totally forgotten the use of it, that, after our return to Barmen, on being entertained at Mr. Hahn's house, I finished my meal without noticing the piece of bread which was conspicuous enough alongside my plate. Our men grumbled a little at first at being deprived of bread, but they also soon got accustomed to do without it, nor did the least inconvenience arise from its absence. I have always heard that the want of bread and vegetables is the greatest hardship a man can experience. Be that as it may, the human system—as the above facts demonstrate—is capable of reconciling itself to nearly all conditions and circumstances.
The men left in charge of the wagon were well, but poor John Mortar, the cook, looked pale and thin. On asking him the cause, he pointed to the fire where our food was cooked, and, with something like an oath, exclaimed, "Sir, look at that pot! I have been watching it these seven-and-twenty days and nights, and, after all, I find that my labor is thrown away!"
Shortly after leaving Elephant Fountain, John, it seems, had set about making soap, of which our supply was exhausted. Through some mistake, however, he used unslaked lime instead of the alkali obtained in the country from the ash of the native soap-bush. This at once accounted for his failure in regard to the article itself, and his own emaciated appearance.
Game, as has been said, was very abundant near to Elephant Fountain, and, by means of spacious pitfalls, great numbers of wild animals were almost nightly captured. The whole ground in the neighborhood of Zwart Nosop, which flowed past the place, was literally a succession of pitfalls, and they were so cleverly arranged and well concealed that it required the utmost caution in walking about. Even ​people thoroughly acquainted with the locality ran great risk of being precipitated into these dangerous traps.
Lions were numerous and very daring. From time to time, several of Amral's people, while lying in ambush for game at night, had been either carried off or fearfully mangled by these beasts. Finding that I was somewhat incautious, the chief expressed the greatest apprehensions for my safety, more especially as I was usually quite alone.
On one of these occasions I must confess to having felt rather uncomfortable. I had posted myself in a dense mimosa brake, commanding the approach to the Zwart Nosop River at a point much frequented by wild animals, and flanked by an immense pitfall. The darkness was deepened by surrounding thick foliage and high river banks. Indeed, so black was the night that I could not discern even the muzzle of my gun. The gloominess of my solitude was increased by the occasional "Qua-qua!" of the night-heron, which made the succeeding hush more dreary, during which even the falling of leaves and rustling of insects among dry grass was hailed as a relief to the oppressive dumbness. To a man in a savage wilderness, and without a companion, silence, especially when combined with utter privation of light, is inexpressibly solemn. It strikes the mind not merely as a negation, but as a threatening presence. It seems ominous. I shall never forget the loneliness and sense of desolation I felt on this occasion. It was past midnight, and still no game appeared.
Suddenly I fancied I heard the purr and breathing of an animal close behind me; but as no other indications of any living thing ensued, I attributed the sounds to a heated imagination. All at once, however, the dismal stillness was disturbed by the quick steps of a troop of pallahs descending the stony slope leading direct to my ambush. Stooping as low as possible, in order to catch their outline, I waited their arrival with my gun on full cock. Nearer and nearer they ​came, till at last I fancied the leader was on the verge of the pitfall; but just at that moment there was a low, stifled growl, a rush, and then a faint cry, as of some dying animal. All was again silent. Though the impenetrable darkness prevented me from seeing any thing, I could no longer doubt that I was in the immediate vicinity of a lion. I freely acknowledge that I felt awed, well knowing that, were he to attack me, I should be completely at his mercy. My situation was critical in the extreme. Straining eyes and ears to discover the beast's whereabout, I held my breath in fearful suspense, while every nerve was strung to the highest pitch. Presently I heard, to my astonishment, the report of a gun within fifty paces of my hiding-place; then a second and a third shot. This made matters worse; for I now became apprehensive that the men, not aware of my presence, might direct their fire toward me. I therefore sprang to my feet, and vociferated, "Who's there?" "Sir! the lion—the lion!" replied Eyebrecht, for it was no other. The next instant he stood trembling before me. He had, it appeared, been sent by Amral to call me back, but had encountered the beast in his path, and fired, in order to frighten him away.
Though I did not exactly comply with the wishes of the chief, I deemed it advisable, after what had passed, to remove to a more open place, where I was less likely to be taken by surprise. Early next morning a number of Hottentots came to examine the ground, when, as I had expected, we found the footprints of a lion at the very back of my "skärm," and scarcely distant the length of the gun-barrel from my own person, where he had evidently been crouching previously to leaping on the pallah (whose cry I had heard in the night), but which, though wounded, had effected its escape. How far the beast intended me mischief is hard to say, but, in any case, my position had not been an enviable one.
On our return journey to Barmen it rained heavily, and in some places the landscape looked quite revived. Many ​migratory birds, such as the swallow, the cuckoo, and others, had again made their appearance.
The animals, which during the dry season are compelled to gather round the springs and other permanent waters, were enabled, by the late rains, to scatter themselves over a large extent of country, and were now difficult to find. There can be little doubt that the instinctive power of animals—domesticated as well as wild—is capable of catching the scent of humid winds and green herbage at a very great distance. Thus I have often seen oxen turn their heads toward the quarter where distant lightning indicated that rain had fallen, and sniff with evident pleasure the breeze produced by colder air. Mr. Moffat, the missionary, mentions an instance where a great number of cattle were entirely lost, solely, as he supposes, from this cause.
"Many years previous to my sojourn in Namaqua-land," says the reverend gentleman, "Afrikaner thus lost the greater part of his cattle. One evening a strong wind commenced blowing from the north; it smelt of green grass, as the natives expressed it. The cattle, not being in folds, started off after dark. The circumstance being unprecedented, it was supposed they had merely wandered out to the common, where they were accustomed to graze; but it was found, after much search, that some thousands of cattle had directed their course to the north. A few were recovered, but the majority escaped to the Damara country, after having been pursued hundreds of miles."
For my own part, I have frequently passed through localities abounding with game, and, repassing them in a short time, I have found them deserted without any apparent cause; as I proceeded, however, I have discovered them in quite different quarters, and ascertained that the attraction has been the young grass, which was either produced by the moisture of the atmosphere, or from the natives having fired the old grass. The rapidity with which parched and sun-burnt ​pasturages in tropical climes are converted by any of these causes into luxuriant savannas is incredible, and can only be duly estimated by those who have themselves witnessed such changes.
A stage on this side of Eikhams we encountered Hans, who had met with a little adventure in the neighborhood of Scheppman's Mountain, where he had one day unyoked. He had been out in search of game, when on his return he was astonished to observe a number of natives rushing toward the wagon, no doubt with the intention of plundering it, and probably of spearing the men who had it in charge. On seeing Hans approach with a gun, however, they all took to their heels; but some were captured, and, after they had undergone a sound drubbing, and been threatened with death should they ever attempt a similar outrage, they were allowed to depart. Not many hours elapsed before these very savages returned to beg for tobacco!
We were sorry to find that our cattle looked thin and miserable. Indeed, Hans had experienced the greatest difficulty in bringing on the wagon. Restored tranquillity had given confidence to the Damaras, who were now flocking in great numbers with their cattle to the banks of the Swakop, the result of which was that every blade of grass was consumed for miles around both sides of the river. This was indeed sad news, as our route lay precisely through these parts, and our draft animals were by this time in a distressingly exhausted and reduced state. It required some efforts on our part to overcome these difficulties, and we lost no time in retracing our steps. After Mr. Galton had disposed of some of the superfluous goods to the natives, and exchanged the run-away mules to Jonker for cattle, we bade farewell to the hospitable hearth of the missionaries at Barmen and Richterfeldt, and proceeded quickly on our road to Walfisch Bay.
On arriving at the confluence of the Swakop and the Tjobis Rivers, we had a narrow escape from being poisoned, as ​the Hill-Damaras had mixed the juice of the euphorhia candelabrum with the stagnant pool-water for the purpose of killing buffaloes, which were numerous hereabout. Fortunately, by having gone in advance of our party, in the hope of obtaining a shot at these animals, I discovered the poisoned water (easily detected by its peculiar clay color) in time to prevent any serious mischief. Some of the dogs partook of it, but, having previously taken their fill of clear, pure water, they escaped with a heavy vomiting. At this identical place Hans had a short time previously found several dead and dying buffaloes that had been poisoned.
The symptoms with men, after imbibing the poison in question—not the least of the many dangers to which the African traveler is almost daily exposed—are generally a fullness of the system, quick pulsation, giddiness, and a violent "flesh-quake."
Though our cattle suffered dreadfully from want of pasturage, we reached Walfisch Bay on the 5th of December without the loss of a single ox.
The missionary vessel had not yet arrived, but there were two others, a brig and a bark. The master of the first was an Englishman, in search of guano, as also of nitrate of soda, which was reported to exist on this coast. He imagined that he had really found the latter valuable salt, and whispered his discoveiy to us as a great secret. On examining the specimens in his possession, however, it was found to be nothing more nor less than pieces of common soap! part, probably, of the cargo of some wrecked vessel. The action of the water had so altered the soap in appearance that the mistake was really excusable. On learning from us the real nature of his supposed prize, the poor captain, as may be imagined, evinced no little chagrin and disappointment.
The second ship was an American, in search of the sperm whale, which is not unfrequently found in these waters. Our shabby and tattered garments and unshaved faces induced ​the captain to regard us at first with suspicion, taking us not improbably for outlaws, unfit for other society than savage men and beasts. By degrees, however, his mind, as to our proper character, was set at rest, and we were hospitably entertained on board his ship, which was scrupulously clean and orderly.
The crews of many of the whaling and guano ships who were in the habit of frequenting Walfisch Bay had behaved very outrageously, either by plundering, or wantonly destroying the contents of the temporary store-house. On one occasion they had been amusingly baffled in their dishonest and disreputable practices. At the time of which I am now speaking, the store was tenanted by Mr. Dickson, the trader, who possessed some very fine lion cubs. These a certain captain determined to purloin, and, for that purpose, sent a number of his men in the dead of the night to carry them away. The animals were usually kept in a large tub or barrel; but it so happened that, on the very evening the master had fixed on for the execution of his plan, they had been removed elsewhere, and that Mr. Bassingweight, one of Mr. Dickson's employés, had taken up his abode in their old quarters. The sailors entered the building unperceived, and began rapidly to roll the tub away. Mr. Bassingweight at first imagined he was dreaming; but, as the motion became more violent, the thumping of his head against the wooden walls soon brought him to his senses, on which he roared out most lustily. The unexpected and strange noise so terrified the sailors that they made a precipitate retreat.
The next morning, the captain, having previously had the audacity to possess himself of one of Mr. Dickson's horses, came riding, very drunk, to his house, and in an imperious and impudent tone demanded the cubs to be given up to him. At the same time, he thrust an immense dagger through a dish of pancakes which a servant was busy preparing. Mr. Dickson was not at home; but his wife, who was a shrewd and ​determined woman, not only refused compliance, but commanded the fellow instantly to dismount and go about his business. On his hesitating, she unceremoniously pulled him off the horse, and threatened to knock him down if he did not immediately leave the house. Fearing, however, that he might return with his crew during the night to revenge himself, and, perhaps, take forcible possession of the young lions, she ordered Bassingweight and another of her servants (having previously primed them with cordials to raise their spirits and courage) to proceed at dusk toward the Bay to watch the enemy's movements. Mrs. Dickson's surmise proved correct; for the men had not gone far before they distinguished the clamorous voices of a number of persons who were rapidly approaching them. Squatting behind some sand-hillocks, they allowed the marauders to come within range, when they fired a shot over their heads, which had the desired effect. Without waiting for further hostility, Jack instantly bolted. Elated by their easy success, Bassingweight and his companion instantly gave chase, and on coming up with the fugitives, a terrible pele-mêle fight ensued. Notwithstanding one of the men was almost a giant in strength and stature, the odds were too great, and they were on the point of being overpowered. At this critical moment Bassingweight called loudly for assistance, hoping that some of the natives, who occasionally slept on the beach, might come to the rescue. To their inexpressible relief, up rose from among a number of empty barrels, which happened to be ranged along the shore, a Bushman. His appearance acted like magic, and instantly turned the cards in their favor; for the sailors, as it was afterward ascertained, imagining the casks to be savages also, and dreading probably their poisoned arrows, were seized with a panic, and fled precipitately in every direction, some rushing up to their necks in water, while others actually fell on their knees begging forgiveness! Unless for the Bushman, Bassingweight assured me that himself and companion must have been inevitably killed.
​The bay presented at this time a most extraordinary spectacle, the whole being covered with one mass of dead fish. We could only account for so unusual a sight by supposing that an epidemic had occurred among them, more especially as it did not appear to be confined to one or two species of the finny tribe, but to all which are indigenous to the coast, the gigantic shark not excepted. In some of the more sheltered spots the fish lay so deep that I remember on one occasion to have had some difficulty in forcing my way through in a small Mackintosh punt.
As may well be expected, the effluvium arising from such a mass of decomposed matter was offensive and sickening. Whether all the fish died, or the stench drove the survivors away, I am unable to decide; but certain it is that hardly a fish was left in the Bay. On our first arrival we captured large quantities by means of a small seine-net, but now all our attempts proved futile.
An incident occurred to me one day which might have been attended with fatal consequences. A cutter had lately arrived from the Cape, the object of the captain being to harpoon the "humpback" whale, which at this season of the year abounds in the vicinity of Walfisch Bay. I had paid a visit to the craft in the punt mentioned. On my return it came on to blow hard from the land. In calm weather the punt could be managed with great ease; but, on account of her flat bottom and light construction, it was impossible to make head against a stiff breeze. When within a stone's throw of the shore she became unmanageable, and for the space of fully one hour all my efforts to propel her were unavailing. At last, finding my strength failing, I made one more desperate effort, and, having fortunately succeeded in getting her into shallow water, I leaped over the side and ultimately brought her to a place of safety. My arms were quite paralyzed, and for a while I was unable to lift them from my sides. Had the struggle lasted another minute, ​nothing could have saved me from being blown out into the open sea, and as there was a gale of wind at the time, there can be no doubt as to the result.
On the 31st of December, being then at Scheppmansdorf, I received intelligence that the long-expected missionary vessel had arrived, and that she was to sail in a few days for St. Helena. On the following morning, the first day of the year 1852, a parcel of European letters was handed to me. It was now fully twenty months since I had heard any news of my friends, and I hailed this token of their interest in my behalf with rapture. But alas! although I had much to be thankful for, the intelligence was damped by the unexpected tidings of the death of a younger brother. Poor fellow! notwithstanding he and I could never agree during life, I loved him dearly. His last words, uttered in delirium, were said to have been addressed to me, imploring me to come to his assistance. He died at Rio Janeiro of that scourge, the yellow fever. Peace be to his memory! The cholera was also raging in Sweden, and I trembled for the news that might next reach me.
I proceeded immediately to Walfisch Bay to bid farewell to Galton. John Williams, John Mortar, and Timbo were to accompany him to St. Helena, whence they were to be forwarded to Cape-Town. Hans—in himself a host—John Allen, and John St. Helena, agreed to remain with me.
My specimens of natural history, which had been collected with much care and trouble, and which had cost me many a sleepless night, I consigned to Galton's care. They consisted of about five hundred bird-skins, nearly double that number of insects, and a few odds and ends. I also took this opportunity to forward several letters to my European friends.
Galton appeared delighted with the prospect of soon returning to civilized life. Though he had proved himself to be capable of enduring hardships and fatigue as well as any of us, it was evident that he had had enough of it.
​The schooner was to have sailed on the 5th of January; but, in consequence of the arrival of "The Grecian" man-of-war, then cruising off the West Coast, it was postponed till the next day. As the schooner gradually disappeared from view, I began to feel in full force the loneliness of my situation, and the loss of my friend's company. It would seem that, the farther the object of our esteem and regard is separated from us, the better we are able to appreciate its value. Galton's excellent disposition and even temper had enabled us to struggle through all difficulties very happily together, and it was, therefore, with sincere regret that I parted from him. I whispered a prayer for his safe return to the bosom of his family. It was heard; for, though the passage proved of long duration, he reached England in safety, after an absence of two years.
Not long subsequently to his return, the Royal Geographical Society, I was happy to learn, bestowed upon him their gold medal as a reward for his services in the cause of science.
* ↑ When we thus shot at night, we generally ensconced ourselves in a "skärm," that is, a small circular inclosure six or eight feet in diameter, the walls (usually consisting of loose stones) being about two feet in height.
* ↑ A copper-cap box, for the information of my female readers, is about the size of a pill-box.