A few words, uttered with the greatest solemnity, were
sufficient to produce, though not exactly what Philip required, a
small quantity of dirty water from a calabash, which, however, was, to
him, delicious. His conductor then waved to him to take a seat on the
sand. It was a novel and appalling, and nevertheless a ludicrous scene:
there was the white sand, rendered still more white by the strong
glare of the sun, strewed with the fragments of the vessel, with casks
and bales of merchandise; there was the running surge with its foam,
throwing about particles of the wreck; there were the bones of whales
which had been driven on shore in some former gale, and which now,
half-buried in the sand, showed portions of huge skeletons; there were
the mangled bodies of Philip's late companions, whose clothes, it
appeared, had been untouched by the savages, with the exception of
the buttons, which had been eagerly sought after; there were naked
Hottentots (for it was summer time, and they wore not their sheepskin
krosses) gravely stepping up and down the sand, picking up everything
that was of no value, and leaving all that civilised people most
coveted;--to crown all, there was the chief, sitting in the still
bloody skin of Johannes and the broad-bottomed wig of Mynheer Stroom,
with all the gravity of a vice-chancellor in his countenance, and
without the slightest idea that he was in any way ridiculous. The
whole presented, perhaps, one of the most strange and chaotic tableaux
that ever was witnessed. Although, at that time, the Dutch had not very long formed their
settlement at the Cape, a considerable traffic had been, for many
years, carried on with the natives for skins and other African
productions. The Hottentots were therefore no strangers to vessels,
and, as hitherto they had been treated with kindness, were
well-disposed towards Europeans. After a time, the Hottentots began
to collect all the wood which appeared to have iron in it, made it up
into several piles, and set them on fire. The chief then made a
sign to Philip, to ask him if he was hungry; Philip replied in the
affirmative, when his new acquaintance put his hand into a bag made
of goat-skin, and pulled out a handful of very large beetles, and
presented them to him. Philip refused them with marks of disgust,
upon which the chief very sedately cracked and ate them; and having
finished the whole handful, rose, and made a sign to Philip to follow
him. As Philip rose, he perceived floating on the surf his own chest;
he hastened to it, and made signs that it was his, took the key out of
his pocket, and opened it, and then made up a bundle of articles
most useful, not forgetting a bag of guilders. His conductor made no
objection, but calling to one of the men near, pointed out the lock
and hinges to him, and then set off, followed by Philip, across the
sand-hills. In about an hour they arrived at the kraal, consisting of
low huts covered with skins, and were met by the women and children,
who appeared to be in high admiration at their chief's new attire:
they showed every kindness to Philip, bringing him milk, which he
drank eagerly. Philip surveyed these daughters of Eve, and, as he
turned from their offensive, greasy attire, their strange forms, and
hideous features, he sighed and thought of his charming Amine. The sun was now setting, and Philip still felt fatigued. He made
signs that he wished to repose. They led him into a hut, and, though
surrounded as he was with filth, and his nose assailed by every
variety of bad smell, attacked moreover by insects, he laid his head
on his bundle, and uttering a short prayer of thanksgiving, was soon
in a sound sleep. The next morning he was awakened by the chief of the kraal,
accompanied by another man who spoke a little Dutch. He stated his
wish to be taken to the settlement where the ships came and anchored,
and was fully understood; but the man said that there were no ships in
the bay at the time. Philip nevertheless requested he might be taken
there, as he felt that his best chance of getting on board of any
vessel would be by remaining at the settlement, and, at all events,
he would be in the company of Europeans until a vessel arrived. The
distance he discovered was but one day's march, or less. After some
little conversation with the chief, the man who spoke Dutch desired
Philip to follow him, and he would take him there. Philip drank
plentifully from a bowl of milk brought him by one of the women, and
again refusing a handful of beetles offered by the chief, he took up
his bundle, and followed his new acquaintance. Towards evening they arrived at the hills, from which Philip had a
view of Table Bay, and the few houses erected by the Dutch. To his
delight, he perceived that there was a vessel under sail in the
offing. On his arrival at the beach, to which he hastened, he found
that she had sent a boat on shore for fresh provisions. He accosted
the people, told them who he was, told them also of the fatal wreck of
the _Ter Schilling_, and of his wish to embark. The officer in charge of the boat willingly consented to take him on
board, and informed Philip that they were homeward bound. Philip's
heart leaped at the intelligence. Had she been outward bound, he would
have joined her; but now he had a prospect of again seeing his dear
Amine, before he re-embarked to follow out his peculiar destiny. He
felt that there was still some happiness in store for him, that his
life was to be chequered with alternate privation and repose, and that
his future prospect was not to be one continued chain of suffering
until death. He was kindly received by the captain of the vessel, who freely gave
him a passage home; and in three months, without any events worth
narrating, Philip Vanderdecken found himself once more at anchor
before the town of Amsterdam. Chapter XI


It need hardly be observed, that Philip made all possible haste to his
own little cottage, which contained all that he valued in this world. He promised to himself some months of happiness, for he had done his
duty; and he felt that, however desirous of fulfilling his vow, he
could not again leave home till the autumn, when the next fleet
sailed, and it was now but the commencement of April. Much, too, as he
regretted the loss of Mynheer Kloots and Hillebrant, as well as the
deaths of the unfortunate crew, still there was some solace in the
remembrance that he was for ever rid of the wretch Schriften, who had
shared their fate; and besides, he almost blessed the wreck, so fatal
to others, which enabled him so soon to return to the arms of his
Amine. It was late in the evening when Philip took a boat from Flushing, and
went over to his cottage at Terneuse. It was a rough evening for the
season of the year. The wind blew fresh, and the sky was covered with
flaky clouds, fringed here and there with broad white edges, for the
light of the moon was high in the heavens, and she was at her full.