Our company presented a most wretched appearance in the march, and we soon proved ourselves to be indeed miserable travellers. Our limbs had swelled to an inordinate size in consequence of our confinement and exposure in the boats, and they were so stiffened with inactivity as only to be dragged along with difficulty. The ground over which we toiled our way was unfavourable for progress in our faint condition, being, for the most part, loose and sandy, and occasionally tangled with small shrubs: and as we went our way, struggling, and staggering beneath our light loads, we bore a striking resemblance to the last remnant of a famished garrison, or the latest fugitive survivors of a siege. We accomplished about a mile, when we sat down to rest, and stripped ourselves of all our upper clothing, on account of the oppressive heat. After a short pause we again resumed our journey, and with great difficulty reached a similar distance. It was only after much persuasion that I induced them again to stir; but there was no shelter in the place from the fierce rays of the sun; and I was extremely anxious, in our desperate circumstances, which were every moment growing darker, to make all the progress possible. About noon we discovered two huts under the cliff, and were of course anxious to reach them; but they were inaccessible to us, in our weak condition. We halloed, however, with all our might, to find if they had any inmates; but as “there was no voice that answered, neither any that regarded,” we justly concluded that they were uninhabited, and could furnish no relief to us, so that we turned mournfully away, and pursued our journey. I afterwards learned that these huts belonged to a fishing company, and were deserted; a few casks of water were kept there, for the supply of their vessels, but these were kept under ground, so that we would have found no relief by visiting the place, and most probably would have perished in the attempt. Soon after we likewise descried traces of a path which led into the interior, which some of our people were inclined to follow; but I dissuaded them from the attempt, as the coast was the coolest region, as well as the most likely to lead us to water; whereas we might only wander in the wilderness to die the most horrid death. We accomplished altogether about six miles by this day’s journey, and halted at last, in utter exhaustion, on a promontory, where we were exposed to the sea breeze.
On collecting our party, to overhaul our stock, I found that one of the cabin passengers, who had been quite delirious for some days, having fallen behind us on the day’s march, on account of weakness, had cast away his coat, containing two bottles of water, from anxiety to overtake his party. Every search was made for this lost treasure and valuable supply, but to no purpose. To add to the misfortune, another cabin passenger, from whose education I might have expected better conduct, alone, of all the people, proved himself unworthy of trust. Of the two bottles committed to his charge, one was found empty. He had stolen from his party during the day, under pretence of tracking the path into the interior, and the temptation proving too strong for him, he had consumed a whole bottle for his own use. This I concealed from our people, for I am certain that, if they had known it, they would have taken his life on the spot. But I was deeply grieved to find that a whole day’s supply of this scarce and vital commodity had been lost to us through the imbecility and profligacy of our companions. To prevent the recurrence of such a calamity, which would have endangered the lives of all of us, I put the water, henceforth, under the charge of my confidential seamen; and after our evening’s repast and prayers, we betook ourselves to sleep.
During night a heavy dew fell, mingled with a few drops of rain, which roused us from our slumbers, and our people commenced greedily to suck the moisture from the blankets; but they having been soaked by sea water, and only dried in the sun, were so impregnated with salt that we soon desisted from an endeavour which brought us no relief. As morning dawned our pleasing expectation of rain departed, and with heavy hearts we prepared to pursue our course. The condition of our people at this time was extremely distressing, their faces had become bloated and disfigured, and their lips were rent and chapped, while the painful swelling in the arms and legs was rapidly on the increase, so that I apprehended some of them would not be able to hold on till night. I sought to rally their downcast spirits, by feigning a cheerfulness which I did not feel, and pointing to some mountains in the south-east, I prompted them to proceed, by assuring them, that wherever mountains appeared, water was always to be found. I was certain, moreover, by the calculations which I had made, that we could not be more than five miles from Oliphant River, where I felt assured that relief would be afforded. We made indeed most wretched progress in that morning’s journey; ere three quarters of a mile had been accomplished, we were compelled to halt, and after receiving our allowance and singing a hymn, we proceeded on our way. Scarcely another mile had been overtaken ere we were again forced to rest ourselves, and here I felt alarmed lest some of the company should never be able to resume the march. The old gentleman, who had lost his coat on the previous day, was especially overcome; he seemed so thoroughly exhausted in spirit, and so worn out in frame—being covered over with sores in face and limbs—that it seemed impossible to rouse him to any further effort, and others were inclined, with him, to resign themselves to despair. I was greatly perplexed how to act in this extremity. I could not bear to leave the wretched alone to die; and to detain the others on their account, would be certain destruction to us all. In this painful crisis I secretly sought direction from God, and had resolved to remain with the desperate, leaving the others to press on, and send back for us if they should find succour. This purpose I only communicated to my brother William, and urged him to use every exertion to reach a place of safety, and in case of my death, to be kind to my dear wife and family. He, however, sternly refused to accede to my wishes, and declared his resolution, if I persisted, to abide and die with me. By his persuasion I was shaken in my purpose, and by dint of great exertion, we managed to assist our invalids on through another stage.
On looking out for our next halting-place, I observed a rising ground a little in advance of us, and urged our people to reach it ere they rested. This was done, because I thought something like the entrance of a river appeared beyond, and I was resolved to ascertain the fact by crowning the hill. We had nearly reached the place, when the mate, who was a little in advance, cried out, “There is the river.” I ran forward at the transporting tidings, and by advancing a few paces, a scene of overpowering interest burst upon my view. Not only was the river distinctly visible as it rolled its broad waters through a fertile valley, until they mingled with ocean at our feet; but I could also distinctly descry a settlement, with its dwelling-houses and offices, on the opposite bank. Never did scene more sweet open upon human vision, than met my ecstatic gaze in that landscape. I had no eye—no heart for its natural beauties; but thoughts of life and of rescue arose within me in that glance. It seemed to me an opening paradise: visions of home—of happiness—rushed back upon my desolate soul. The tide of sorrow, in a heart ready to perish, was turned within me, and joy rose in such sudden revulsion from recent wretchedness, that I was completely overpowered. The same excess of emotion filled every heart that now crowded around at the tidings. We grasped each other’s hands in convulsive silence; our hearts were too full for utterance, and, for a considerable time, tears were the only expression that came from our overcharged bosoms. Rapture was in our glance when we saw human beings moving about on the opposite bank, and we became rivetted in delighted gaze upon the neat white-washed house, with its clear blue smoke curling up into the sky, and all the accompaniments of European comfort around it. I was the first to break the interesting silence, by saying, “Now, my dear friends, the Lord has led us by a way that we knew not, to a land inhabited.” We then gave thanks to God, who had done so great things for us, and we served out a little of our remaining stock of water. As we were still a mile from the river, I preserved a small portion, in case the river water should prove salt, which, on reaching it, we found to be the case. We had carried our English ensign as a signal in case of meeting any vessel, and now, by tying two broken oars together, we elevated it to attract the notice of the persons on the opposite bank. They evidently had descried us; for we observed a boat push off from the shore, and advance straight toward us across the stream. This was to us a gracious token that the season of succour was at hand. We immediately thereupon drank off our last remaining bottle of water, and prepared to greet our deliverers. The moment of our rescue was especially interesting and solemn. While the boat approached, we all joined hands and united in singing the 23d Psalm, and, as the faint concert arose from our famished group, it seemed, to our overflowing hearts, to ascend to heaven, alike as the devout dirge of our departing sorrows, and the joyous anthem of our coming deliverance.
CHAPTER V.
THE RESCUE.
“When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water.”
The boat, which seemed to our view like a messenger of mercy, approached within hail, when, with due precaution, it halted, and to our delightful surprise a voice in the English language demanded to know who we were, and what was our business. We immediately declared our doleful story, when the party landed without farther ceremony, and told us that we had come among a Christian people. The meeting was most affecting on either side; it was with difficulty that our people, in the ecstasy of rescue, could refrain from falling down at the feet of their deliverers; and the strangers, as they surveyed our emaciated and wretched company, were quite unable to suppress their tears. Our first appeal to them was for water, and they communicated the joyful intelligence to us, that there was an excellent fountain on the other side, where our wants would be abundantly supplied. I immediately embarked, in company with the ladies, and by three successive trips, the whole of our people were safely landed on the other side, where we were all received with unbounded affection and hospitality. We instantly repaired, with incontrollable avidity, to the fountain, where we sought to satiate our maddening thirst by deep and frequent draughts, until we had gorged ourselves with the exquisite supply, and felt life reflow in cooler currents through our parched and fevered frames. A princely meal was also provided for us on the instant, consisting of a whole sheep, and part of a wild buck, which had been shot on the farm in the morning; but our hearts were too full to possess a keen appetite, and we could only taste of the bounteous provision amid many tears, when we contrasted the scantiness and misery of our morning repast with our present profusion, and the hearts of many of us rose in silent gratitude to “God, who had done so great things for us, whereof we were glad.”
We found that the settlement which we had reached belonged to a warm-hearted Dutch farmer, named Mynheer Low, of whose unbounded generosity and kindness it is impossible for me to speak in excessive terms. His family consisted of an amiable wife and daughter, who shared in all his own benevolence, and loaded us with attentions, which can never be forgotten, and it would be impossible to repay.
The Englishman, who had accompanied our host in the boat which ferried us over the river, and who acted as our interpreter during our stay, was a sailor belonging to a whale and seal fishing company. He had been left by his employers, in company with another person, to reside during the fishing season, on a neighbouring island, in order to preserve the fishing grounds, which were rented from the colonial government. He and his partner were obliged to visit the settlement very frequently for supplies of water, which they required to keep, alike for their own use, and in case of their schooner running short during her voyage. I learned from this person that the coast to the north of Oliphant River is entirely destitute of water, and without inhabitants; and I mention this in case any persons who peruse this narrative should be driven on this coast, that they may know where to obtain succour. Mr. Low’s farm is situated on the south bank of the Oliphant River, about four miles from the sea, and two hundred miles from the Cape of Good Hope.