At the lunch I was fully occupied in answering questions about the details of the shipwreck, and my adventures in the wild country of the Umzimvubu. My description of the slaughter of the captain of the merchant vessel, and his obstinacy in not being cautious enough, seemed rather to amuse some of the officers who were present. Altogether, I was much pleased with my treatment by the admiral, and returned in the afternoon to the ship.
On the following morning I found that a Cape Town paper had a full account of the shipwreck, and of my adventures among the Caffres, giving my name, and stating who I was. I was amused at finding myself so famous all at once, but did not then anticipate what would be the speedy result of all this being known at the Cape. What was the result must be reserved for another chapter.
Chapter Seventeen.
It was about two hours past mid-day, that a boat came from the shore, and a gentleman in plain clothes stepped from the boat on to the ship, and inquired if Mr Peterson was on board. I was sitting in the cabin, reading, and the gentleman was shown down into the cabin, and I was told he came to visit me. The gentleman, who was old, but tall and erect, looked at me very critically, and then said, “Is your name Julius Peterson?”
“Yes,” I replied, “that is my proper name, but I have been renamed by the Caffres.”
“You of course remember your father,” said the gentleman; “can you describe him to me?”
I gave a very accurate description of my father, and then of our compound and bungalow at Delhi. In reply to the gentleman’s inquiry, I gave the details of our journey to Calcutta, and of our voyage, shipwreck, etc.
“You have no papers, or anything about you, which could prove you are the person you represent yourself to be?” said the gentleman.