serve as cordage, how I could break them asunder. First, then, the commencement of the filaments are scarcely stronger than pack-thread, but grow thicker and thicker, till about the size of a man’s arm. Secondly, by a happy chance, the large clasp-knife—the sailor’s constant companion and friend—which I always carried in my pocket, yet remained there, despite the buffeting I had received.

While talking of plants, I will here mention one that particularly attracted my attention, and whose unpleasant nature I was yet to discover. It grew along the ground or hang in festoons from bush to bush, and, at the time I saw it, was one mass of splendid purple bloom; but what mostly drew my notice, was that all along its branches there were strong sharp thorns, like hooks, arranged in pairs, looking just as if they were traps extended by some bunting lion, to catch his victim and hold it till his majesty chose to dine. Fortunately for me, despite its beautiful blossoms, I was too anxious respecting my position to inspect it more closely, but hurried on eager to get to the rocks, where I resolved, if I could possibly do so, to remain, that I might ever be on the watch, and near at hand should any ship pass within sight of the shore.

On reaching the base, I began cautiously to climb to the summit—no difficult task, as the face was extremely rugged, being composed of masses, forming ledges and huge gapping crevices, covered with lichen mimosas and hard spined cacti. At the first outset, however, I was much startled by a sudden rushing among the bushes, as of some animal close by. Not knowing what it might be, I quickly drew back, but my fright speedily subsided, when I saw a little creature, bearing a close resemblance to the rabbit, dash across my path evidently as much afraid of me as I had been of him. Continuing my way, I mentally resolved that if, by dinner time, I came across another such little gentleman, or even the same, I would try to catch it for that repast.

I had nearly reached the top of the promontory when my terror was again renewed. I fancied I heard the murmur of voices above, coming in my direction. Instantly I crouched down among the bushes with suspended breath.

There were people here then, but the question was, who were they?

From the appearance of the land altogether I felt certain there could be no English settlers so near—therefore it was evident that the inhabitants must belong to the savage tribes; whether acquainted with, and friendly, or otherwise to, the white man, was to me a most unpleasant doubt. I therefore resolved, if possible, to avoid being seen, at any rate till I had inspected them further, as I had no desire to serve for the dinner of a hungry Kaffir family, or even, if not cannibals, to be tortured for their amusement. Hidden from view, I listened anxiously. All was silent, not a sound came, though once I fancied the bushes moved on the rock above, followed by a low whispering. Had they discovered my proximity, and were also watching, preparatory to making a seizure?

I knew that, bold as the Kaffirs are in a body, in a single attack they are cunning and fond of strategy. Therefore had I been perceived, they, not knowing but that others were with me, might be at that very moment stealthily encircling the bushes where I lay, which the next moment would perhaps be pierced as well as my body with a hundred arrows or spears, whichever it was their custom to use.

At this thought I crouched still lower, and cannot divine how long a time I remained there, my danger and the suspense making it, no doubt, appear far longer than it really was; when, everything remaining quiet, I grew nervous at the very silence, and at last determined, though totally unarmed, to reconnoitre the top of the promontory. I had certainly heard voices, but perhaps the speakers had passed on, really unaware of my presence; if not, it was better for me to brave it out than to die like a dog without making any resistance. Besides, if the natives were so close, the place was no safe retreat for me, unless they happened to be friendly.

Stealthily quitting the bushes, and softly climbing the intermediate space, I, reaching my hands to the ledge, pulled myself up to its level and looked over. I had hardly done so than I was so startled that I nearly let go my hold and fell back among the rocks; for the first object that met my view was a human face looking savagely into mine. My exclamation of surprise was echoed by one of no friendly character, accompanied by a round true English sounding oath, addressed to the black race in particular, as a heavy stick was poised in the air, and would have inevitably ended the career of Richard Galbraith, had I not cried out just in time.

“Good heavens! Jack Thompson, is that you and alive?”

The stick dropped from his hands, for it was indeed no other than the third mate of the wrecked ship; and with a second exclamation, seizing my arms, he pulled me on to the ledge.

“Why, Dick Galbraith! Spars and rope-yarns, but you only spoke in time. Lord forgive me! but with that there gigantic cabbage leaf over your head, I took you for some savage cannibal.”

In truth, I must have presented a strange figure, and despite our position, I could not help indulging in a laugh at Jack Thompson’s face of dismay at what he had been about to-do; but speedily checking it, I asked with much concern how he had been saved, and whether there were any others of the crew as fortunate as ourselves.

“Only one more that I know of,” replied Jack, “and that’s the young minister chap as was allus reading.”

“What, the Reverend Mr Ferguson, the missionary that we were to set ashore in Madagascar?”

“Yes, that’s him, and I must say he improves upon acquaintance. I confess I didn’t think much of him on board, with his preachifying; but dash my top-sail if, with all his pale quiet face he ain’t a jolly fellow in the moment of trouble. Ay, he’s as cheerful as a sandboy, and somehow, his little bit of scriptur now seems rather consoling than otherwise.”

“But how, Jack, in Heaven’s name, did you escape from those terrible waves?”

“Why, much about the same way you did, I guess. We lashed ourselves to spars, and after a bit of severe tossing, got pitched up on this here shore.”

“And what made you come to these rocks?”

“Why to seek shelter from that blessed furnace of a sun.”

“And,” I added eagerly, “have you seen any of the natives?”

“No, but we thought we heard one about half an hour ago,” said a voice behind me. Looking round, I saw it belonged to the young missionary, who was standing looking down upon us, for we were seated on the rock. “However,” he continued, “‘the native’ has turned out to be no other than a fellow-comrade in distress.”

The Reverend Mr Ferguson had a slim, gentlemanly figure, and a pale, thoughtful, studious face, but one which was frequently lighted up by the most pleasant, sunshiny, and kindly of smiles.

“Thank God,” he added devoutly, as he raised his eyes upward, “that there is, indeed, another of us saved.”

As Jack Thompson had said, Mr Ferguson’s “preachifying” no longer seemed out of place; and for myself, I am sure in my heart I most devoutly said Amen to the thanksgiving. Then, getting up, I asked if he could at all tell in what part of Caffraria we were—for that we were somewhere on that coast I was certain.

“From the few observations I have been able to make, I fancy this spot must be between Delagoa Bay