Much to Philip's horror, he perceived the body of
Mynheer Kloots sink down in the water (which now was several feet deep
on the lee side of the deck) without any apparent effort on the part
of the captain to save himself. He was then gone, and there were no
hopes for him. Philip thought of Hillebrant, and hastened down below;
he found him still in his bed-place, lying against the side. He lifted
him out, and with difficulty climbed with him on deck, and laid him in
the long-boat on the booms, as the best chance of saving his life. To
this boat, the only one which could be made available, the crew had
also repaired; but they repulsed Philip, who would have got into her;
and, as the sea made clean breakers over them, they cast loose the
lashings which confined her. With the assistance of another heavy sea
which lifted her from the chocks, she was borne clear of the booms
and dashed over the gunnel into the water, to leeward, which was
comparatively smooth--not, however, without being filled nearly up to
the thwarts. But this was little cared for by the intoxicated seamen,
who, as soon as they were afloat, again raised their shouts and songs
of revelry as they were borne away by the wind and sea towards the
beach. Philip, who held on by the stump of the mainmast, watched them
with an anxious eye, now perceiving them borne aloft on the foaming
surf, now disappearing in the trough. More and more distant were the
sounds of their mad voices, till, at last, he could hear them no
more,--he beheld the boat balanced on an enormous rolling sea, and
then he saw it not again. Philip knew that now his only chance was to remain with the vessel,
and attempt to save himself upon some fragment of the wreck. That the
ship would long hold together he felt was impossible; already she had
parted her upper decks, and each shock of the waves divided her more
and more. At last, as he clung to the mast, he heard a noise abaft,
and he then recollected that Mynheer Von Stroom was still in his
cabin. Philip crawled aft, and found that the poop-ladder had been
thrown against the cabin door, so as to prevent its being opened. He
removed it and entered the cabin, where he found Mynheer Von Stroom
clinging to windward with the grasp of death,--but it was not death,
but the paralysis of fear. He spoke to him, but could obtain no reply;
he attempted to move him, but it was impossible to make him let go the
part of the bulk-head that he grasped. A loud noise and the rush of a
mass of water told Philip that the vessel had parted amidships, and he
unwillingly abandoned the poor supercargo to his fate, and went out
of the cabin door. At the after-hatchway he observed something
struggling,--it was Johannes the bear, who was swimming, but still
fastened by a cord which prevented his escape. Philip took out his
knife, and released the poor animal, and hardly had he done this act
of kindness when a heavy sea turned over the after part of the vessel,
which separated in many pieces, and Philip found himself struggling in
the waves. He seized upon a part of the deck which supported him, and
was borne away by the surf towards the beach. In a few minutes he was
near to the land, and shortly afterwards the piece of planking to
which he was clinging struck on the sand, and then, being turned over
by the force of the running wave, Philip lost his hold, and was left
to his own exertions. He struggled long, but, although so near to the
shore, could not gain a footing; the returning wave dragged him back,
and thus was he hurled to and fro until his strength was gone. He was
sinking under the wave to rise no more, when he felt something touch
his hand. He seized it with the grasp of death. It was the shaggy
hide of the bear Johannes, who was making for the shore, and who soon
dragged him clear of the surf, so that he could gain a footing. Philip
crawled up the beach above the reach of the waves, and, exhausted with
fatigue, sank down in a swoon. When Philip was recalled from his state of lethargy, his first feeling
was intense pain in his still closed eyes, arising from having been
many hours exposed to the rays of an ardent sun. He opened them, but
was obliged to close them immediately, for the light entered into them
like the point of a knife. He turned over on his side, and covering
them with his hand, remained some time in that position, until, by
degrees, he found that his eyesight was restored. He then rose, and,
after a few seconds could distinguish the scene around him. The sea
was still rough, and tossed about in the surf fragments of the vessel;
the whole sand was strewed with her cargo and contents. Near him was
the body of Hillebrant, and the other bodies who were scattered on the
beach told him that those who had taken to the boat had all perished. It was, by the height of the sun, about three o'clock in the
afternoon, as near as he could estimate; but Philip suffered such an
oppression of mind, he felt so wearied, and in such pain, that he took
but a slight survey. His brain was whirling, and all he demanded was
repose. He walked away from the scene of destruction, and having found
a sandhill, behind which he was defended from the burning rays of the
sun, he again lay down, and sank into a deep sleep, from which he did
not wake until the ensuing morning. Philip was roused a second time by the sensation of something pricking
him on the chest. He started up, and beheld a figure standing over
him. His eyes were still feeble, and his vision indistinct; he rubbed
them for a time, for he first thought it was the bear Johannes, and
again that it was the supercargo Von Stroom who had appeared before
him; he looked again, and found that he was mistaken, although he had
warrant for supposing it to be either or both. A tall Hottentot, with
an assagai in his hand, stood by his side; over his shoulder he had
thrown the fresh-severed skin of the poor bear, and on his head,
with the curls descending to his waist, was one of the wigs of the
supercargo Von Stroom. Such was the gravity of the black's appearance
in this strange costume (for in every other respect he was naked),
that, at any other time, Philip would have been induced to laugh
heartily, but his feelings were now too acute. He rose upon his feet
and stood by the side of the Hottentot, who still continued immovable,
but certainly without the slightest appearance of hostile intentions. A sensation of overpowering thirst now seized upon Philip, and he
made signs that he wished to drink. The Hottentot motioned to him
to follow, and led over the sand-hills to the beach, where Philip
discovered upwards of fifty men, who were busy selecting various
articles from the scattered stores of the vessel. It was evident by
the respect paid to Philip's conductor, that he was the chief of
the kraal.