Afterwards, we inspected the island, found many beautiful shells on the seashore, watched the fishhawks and eagles swooping down from the rocks on to their finny prey below, feasted our eyes on the bright-feathered parrots and the squirrels, and threw stones at the yellow nuts of the palm.
Then we went back to the ship and bade farewell to its cargo of ancients before they resumed their journey to Swakopmund, en route to Windhuk.
"Next time I see you," I said to one melancholy-looking victim, "I hope it'll be with a pocketful of good, powerful glands."
"I trust that will be soon," he mumbled. "I've enjoyed this voyage, but it's nearly been the death of me."
"Oh, you'll be all right as soon as you reach Swakopmund. Anyway, good luck until we meet again."
Thus we went about—Gran'pa, Dr. Croft, Stringer and I—scattering a few words of hope and comfort to the aged of our race.
And, when they had set out to sea again, we wandered homewards to food and a quiet smoke.
"Oakley and I are going out first thing in the morning for a trial flight over the Gorilla country," I said to Gran'pa, just before we retired. "We want to get the lay of the land—and air."
"That's the spirit, George! No grass growing under your feet, nowadays, eh?"
"Not a blade! I'd go to-night—if we could persuade the sun to reappear."