THE RETURN. 
31 
declined, liowever, as it was getting late and our walk 
was long; but we consented to a second attack upon the 
before-mentioned viands, plus a glass of fine old rum, 
durina: the discussion of which he found time to assure 
us that there were not, had not been for years, and were 
never again expected to appear, a dozen quail on that 
side of the mountain, and that as for “spring-boke,” ihcy 
never crossed the ridge, — a piece of information rather 
calculated to strengthen a suspicion as to the veracity of 
our Hottentot friend which had assailed our minds at the 
time of our “ smelling a rat.” 
We now started upon our return, but had not walked 
five minutes before we were overtaken by about the 
hardest shower of rain that I ever stood under; and I do 
really believe that if the gentleman of colour who ex- 
pressed himself so freely in fiivour of Americans had 
passed at that moment, he would have been startled, by 
an explosion of fire-arms and a sharp pain about six 
inches below his waist, into a far difterent conclusion as 
to American character ; at the same time that the purser 
would have found himself minus a load of powder, a cap, 
two patent wads, and an ounce or more of mustard-seed 
shot. Fortune favoured him, however, and he went to 
bed(?) that night weighing some half-ounce less than if 
we had met. We reached the ship just before dark, and 
stepped at once into a perfect hotbed of annoying obser- 
vations. 
“Hillo! here comes old bust-proof and his master,” 
said one. 
“And Habersham and his fifteen-dollar gun!” ex- 
claimed another. 
