“The hareld is a most restless bird,” says he, “and perpetually in motion. It rarely happens that one sees it in a state of repose during the daytime. The flock—for there are almost always several in company—swim pretty fast against the wind; and the individuals comprising it keep up a sort of race with each other. Some of the number are always diving; and, as these remain long under water, and their comrades are going rapidly ahead in the mean while, they are, of course, a good way behind the rest on their reappearance at the surface. Immediately on coming up, therefore, they take wing, and, flying over the backs of their comrades, resume their position in the ranks, or rather fly somewhat beyond their fellows, with the object, as it would seem, of being the foremost of the party. This frequently continues across the bay or inlet, until the flock is “brought up” by the opposing shore, when they generally all take wing and move off elsewhere.... ‘Fair play is a jewel,’ says the old saw, and so, perhaps, thinks the hareld; for it would really appear as if it adopted the somewhat curious manœuvre just mentioned to prevent its companions from going over the ground previously.”
The day after our arrival we moved our small craft within half a mile of the shore, and, as soon as she was safely anchored, we proceeded to reconnoitre the neighborhood. The first thing which attracted our attention was a mirage of the most striking character and intensity of effect. Objects, distant only a few hundred feet, became perfectly metamorphosed. Thus, for instance, a small bird would look as big as a rock, or the trunk of a tree; pelicans assumed the appearance of ships under canvas; the numerous skeletons and bones of stranded whales were exaggerated into clusters of lofty houses, and dreary and sterile plains presented the aspect of charming lakes. In short, every object had a bewildering and supernatural appearance, and the whole atmosphere was misty, tremulous, and wavy. This phenomenon is at all times very remarkable, but during the hot season of the year it is more surprising and deceptive. At an after period Mr. Galton tried to map the bay, but this mirage frustrated all his endeavors. An object that he had, perhaps, chosen for a mark, became totally indistinguishable when he moved to the next station.
On the beach we found a small house, constructed of planks, in tolerable preservation, which at high water was completely surrounded by the sea. This had originally been erected by a Captain Greybourn for trading purposes, but was now in the possession of the Rhenish Missionary Society. It was kindly thrown open to our use, and proved of the greatest comfort to us; for at this season the nights were bitterly cold, and the dew so heavy as completely to saturate every article of clothing that was exposed.
We had not been many minutes on shore when some half-naked, half-starved, cut-throat-looking savages made their appearance, armed with muskets and assegais. Nothing could exceed the squalid, wretched, and ludicrous aspect of these people, which was increased by a foolish endeavor to assume a martial bearing, no doubt with a view of making an impression on us. Without noticing either their weapons or swaggering air, and in order to disarm suspicion, we walked straight up to them, and shook hands with apparent cordiality. Our missionary friend, Mr. Schöneberg, then explained to them, by signs and gestures, that he wished to have a letter conveyed to Mr. Bam, his colleague, residing at Scheppmansdorf, some twenty miles off, in an easterly direction. It soon became apparent that they were accustomed to similar errands; for, on receiving a small gratuity of tobacco on the spot, with a promise of further payment on their return, they set out immediately, and executed their task with so much dispatch, that, before the dawn of next morning, Mr. Bam had arrived.
In the mean time, we made an excursion to a place called Sand Fountain, about three miles inland. On our way there we crossed a broad flat, which in spring tides is entirely flooded. In spite of this submersion, the tracks of wagons, animals, &c., of several years’ standing, were as clear and distinct as if imprinted but yesterday! At Sand Fountain we found another wooden house, but uninhabited, belonging to Mr. D⸺, a partner of Mr. M⸺. The natives had taken advantage of the absence of the owner to injure and destroy the few pieces of furniture left behind, and leaves of books and panes of window glass were wantonly strewn about the ground. We next visited the so-called “fountain,” which was hard by; but, instead of a copious spring—as the name of the place gave us reason to expect—we found, to our dismay, nothing but a small hole, some five or six inches in diameter, and half as many deep; the water, moreover, was of so execrable a quality as to make it totally undrinkable. However, on cleaning away the sand, it flowed pretty freely, and we flattered ourselves that, by a little care and trouble, we might render it fit for use, if not exactly palatable.
After having thus far explored the country, we returned to the vessel. On the following morning, at daybreak, we set about landing our effects, mules, horses, &c., which was not done without some difficulty. As soon as the goods belonging to the missionary should have been removed to Scheppmansdorf, Mr. Bam most considerately promised to assist us with his oxen. In the interval—as there was no fresh water on the beach—we deemed it advisable to remove our luggage, by means of the mules, to Sand Fountain, where we should, at least, be able to obtain water—though bad of its kind—and be better off in other respects.
On the fourth day, the schooner which had conveyed us to Walfisch Bay set sail for the Cape, leaving us entirely to our own resources on a desert coast, and—excepting the several missionary stations scattered over the country—at several months’ tedious journey by land to the nearest point of civilization.
On returning to Sand Fountain, our first care was to sink an old perforated tar-barrel in a place dug for the purpose; but instead of improving the quality of the water, it only made matters worse! Fortunately, we had taken the precaution to bring with us from the Cape a “copper distiller;” but the water, even thus purified, could only be used for cooking, or making very strong coffee and tea. Strange enough, when the owner of the house resided here, water was abundant and excellent; but the spot where it was obtained was now hidden from view by an immense sand-hill, which defied digging.
At Sand Fountain we had the full benefit of the sea-breeze, which made the temperature very agreeable, the thermometer never exceeding seventy-five degrees in the shade at noon. The sand, however, was a cruel annoyance, entering into every particle of food, and penetrating our clothes to the very skin. But we were subjected to a still more formidable inconvenience; for, besides myriads of fleas, our encampment swarmed with a species of bush-tick, whose bite was so severe and irritating as almost to drive us mad. To escape, if possible, the horrible persecutions of these bloodthirsty creatures, I took refuge one night in the cart, and was congratulating myself on having at last secured a place free from their attacks. But I was mistaken. I had not been long asleep before I was awakened by a disagreeable irritation over my whole body, which shortly became intolerable; and, notwithstanding the night air was very sharp, and the dew heavy, I cast off all my clothes, and rolled on the icy-cold sand till the blood flowed freely from every pore. Strange as it may appear, I found this expedient serviceable.