ted to get into the canoe he turned her sideways
to the wind, with the outrigger to leeward. When her sharp prow and
rounded keel struck the mud-bank end on she ran easily along it. But,
turned sideways, her length found more resistance, and though the waves
sent her some way upon it, she soon came to a standstill. He clambered
in as quickly as he could (it is not easy to get into a boat out of the
water, the body feels so heavy), and, taking the paddle, without waiting
to dress, worked away from the spot.

Not till he had got some quarter of a mile back towards the mainland did
he pause to dry himself and resume part of his clothing; the canoe being
still partly full of water, it was no use to put on all. Resting awhile
after his severe exertions, he looked back, and now supposed, from the
colour of the water and the general indications, that these shallows
extended a long distance, surrounding the islands at the mouth of the
channel, so that no vessel could enter or pass out in a direct line, but
must steer to the north or south until the obstacle was rounded. Afraid
to attempt to land on another island, his only course, as the sun was
now going down, was to return to the mainland, which he reached without
much trouble, as the current favoured him.

He drew the canoe upon the ground as far as he could. It was not a good
place to land, as the bottom was chalk, washed into holes by the waves,
and studded with angular flints. As the wind was off the shore it did
not matter; if it had blown from the east, his canoe might very likely
have been much damaged. The shore was overgrown with hazel to within
twenty yards of the water, then the ground rose and was clothed with low
ash-trees, whose boughs seemed much stunted by tempest, showing how
exposed the spot was to the easterly gales of spring. The south-west
wind was shut off by the hills beyond. Felix was so weary that for some
time he did nothing save rest upon the ground, which was but scantily
covered with grass. An hour's rest, however, restored him to himself.

He gathered some dry sticks (there were plenty under the ashes), struck
his flint against the steel, ignited the tinder, and soon had a fire. It
was not necessary for warmth, the June evening was soft and warm, but it
was the hunter's instinct. Upon camping for the night the hunter, unless
Bushmen are suspected to be in the neighbourhood, invariably lights a
fire, first to cook his supper, and secondly, and of