hat it would be so. Good-bye,
my dear boy, good-bye: my prayers will follow you, and for the
rest--Well, I am old, and what does it matter if my grey hairs come with
sorrow to the grave?"

I kissed him back, and with an aching heart sprang to the saddle. In
five more minutes the station was out of sight.

Thirteen and a half hours later I pulled rein upon the quay of Port
Elizabeth just, only just, in time to catch Captain Richardson as he was
entering his boat to row out to the Seven Stars, on which the canvas
was already being hoisted. As well as I could in my exhausted state, I
explained matters and persuaded him to wait till the next tide. Then,
thanking God for the mare's speed--the roan had been left foundered
thirty miles away, and Hans was following on the chestnut, but not yet
up--I dragged the poor beast to an inn at hand. There she lay down and
died. Well, she had done her work, and there was no other horse in the
country that could have caught that boat.

An hour or so later Hans came in flogging the chestnut, and here I may
add that both it and the roan recovered. Indeed I rode them for many
years, until they were quite old. When I had eaten, or tried to eat
something and rested awhile, I went to the bank, succeeded in explaining
the state of the case to the manager, and after some difficulty, for
gold was not very plentiful in Port Elizabeth, procured three hundred
pounds in sovereigns. For the other two he gave me a bill upon some
agent in Delagoa Bay, together with a letter of recommendation to him
and the Portuguese governor, who, it appeared, was in debt to their
establishment. By an afterthought, however, although I kept the letters,
I returned him the bill and spent the L200 in purchasing a great variety
of goods which I will not enumerate, that I knew would be useful for
trading purposes among the east coast Kaffirs. Indeed, I practically
cleared out the Port Elizabeth stores, and barely had time, with the
help of Hans and the storekeepers, to pack and ship the goods before the
Seven Stars put out to sea.

Within twenty-four hours from the time I had left the Mission Station,
Hans and I saw behind us Port Elizabeth fading into the distance, and in
front a waste of stormy waters.

CHAPTER VIII. THE CAMP OF DEATH

Everything went well upon that voyage, except with me personally. Not
having been on the ocean since I was a child, I, who am naturally no
good sailor, was extremely ill as