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.  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