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 often principally, to make the spot his home.  The hearth is home, whether there be walls round it or not.  Directly there are glowing embers the place is no longer wild, it becomes human.  Felix had nothing that needed cooking.  He took his cowhide from the canoe and spread it on the ground.

A well-seasoned cowhide is the first possession of every hunter; it keeps him from the damp; and with a second, supported on three short poles stuck in the earth (two crossed at the top in front, forming a fork, and fastened with a thong, the third resting on these), he protects himself from the heaviest rain.  This little tent is always built with the back to windward.  Felix did not erect a second hide, the evening was so warm and beautiful he did not need it, his cloak would be ample for covering.  The fire crackled and blazed at intervals, just far enough from him that he might feel no inconvenience from its heat.