234 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Aug. 23, 1913. 
saved by weeks of abstemiousness is usually 
shelled out in one night’s dissipation. 
With my portion of this money I jumped 
into the boat as usual at noon and went ashore. 
As soon as the officer, according to etiquette, 
lands, then anyone likewise can jump out. So 
out I went like a shot and ran up the beach as 
fast as I could leg it to the storehouse, climbed 
the bank, sprang down on the opposite side, and 
dodged behind the wooden building. 
So quickly was this done that no one noticed 
me, and both the men and the officer were in 
ignorance of my escape; and in fact no one re¬ 
membered whether I was in the boat or not, with 
one exception. This was a man whom I had 
made my confidant, and who likewise wanted to 
go with me. But I refused the pleasure of his 
company, telling him that if I succeeded in mak¬ 
ing my escape, I would wait for him anywhere 
he might wish, but I would not consent to have 
to try it, although he had no idea at the time 
that I had any such intention. 
I lay snugly ensconced in my burrow until 
nightfall, when the boat put back to the frigate, 
and as soon as all was quiet I stole forth, and 
gladly stretched my limbs, which had been sorely 
cramped by my long confinement. I cautiously 
peeped around the corner of the stone building 
adjacent to the one under which I had lain, or 
rather crouched so long. 
There was a high bank to the left of my 
position, which, as it fronted the ocean, pre¬ 
vented me from being seen by any “lookout” 
from the frigate. Presently, however, I saw a 
boat putting off again, and I thought I must 
have been discovered. Accordingly I ran as fast 
as ever I could into the stone storehouse, and 
overhauling a lot of bales of yarn, sprang in 
behind them, and cowering there for a while 
could hear my heart beat tumultuously in my 
to climb my way upward over the abrupt and 
precipitous steep of the Table Mountains. 
As I arrived at the summit of the first ridge, 
breathless from my exertions and thoroughly ex¬ 
hausted, I lay down and looked out upon the 
breast of the mighty ocean. 
There in the harbor lay the Endymion, with 
a light at her mizzen peak, and a whale ship 
or two near by on her quarter. At length, look¬ 
ing landward around the country in a direction 
opposite, and in line with the frigate, far inland, 
I saw a faint glimmering light. I at once mus¬ 
tered up my courage, and made all haste to¬ 
ward it, scrambling over stones and plunging 
down ravines that at intervals obstructed my 
progress; all the time, however, gradually de¬ 
scending the mountain side into the valley from 
which the light proceeded. 
Suddenly I made a mis-step, lost my foot¬ 
hold, and plunged helplessly down to an unknown 
‘PRESENTLY, HOWEVER, X SAW A BOAT PUTTING OFF. 1 
him accompany me. as the chances would be so 
much lessened of being successful in concealing 
my flight. 
Finally the officer, finding that no one of 
the men had any recollection of seeing me either 
get in or out of the boat, sent the boat back to 
the ship to make inquiry. The men who took 
the boat back soon returned with the report 
that I was not on board. The officer then con¬ 
cluded that I must have scaled the wall with 
which the yard was surrounded, and had made 
for the back country. 
It was not long before the old “bo’son” of 
the ship came up opposite the hold within which 
I was concealed, and stood apparently looking 
right at me, while he was engaged in his work. 
Imagine my feeling as he did so. 
This boatswain was the man who had often 
told me in the night watcli that no one could 
escape from the service, as Seymour Bay had 
too many safeguards to admit of it. He averred 
that attempts at escape had often been made, but 
had never been successful, and advised me not 
bosom as I pulled the bales over me again. Be¬ 
neath them I remained as still as a mouse in a 
meal chest for a long time. 
As no one came, and I heard no sound, I 
finally stole out again, and upon getting clear of 
the inclosure, made for the beach ‘road after a 
while, and followed it along until I came within 
sight of the sea itself, which at high tide over¬ 
flowed the road. I thought that I had lost my 
way, but the road was the only route to Cape 
Town, as the high and massive wall of the Table 
Mountains’ giant form effectually prevented any 
road from being run through them. Conse¬ 
quently, the road followed the winding of the 
seashore. 
I did not know that the tide might at any 
time sweep to a great depth over the road, and 
waded into the waters before me, at first knee 
deep, then breast high, and deepening at every 
step. Therefore, I backed out of the attempt 
at further progress on such uncertain footing, 
which might soon come to swimming; and mak¬ 
ing for the base of the mountain, commenced 
depth, until at length I was brought up on a soft 
couch of green sward, carefully spread by a kind 
Providence for my safety, that greatly broke the 
force of my fall. I was badly jarred, and con¬ 
siderably bruised by my fall, and somew'hat 
downcast in spirits, but nevertheless after pass¬ 
ing my hands a few times over the injured por¬ 
tion of my body I proceeded again on my way. 
At last I came to a hut whence the light pro¬ 
ceeded, and saw an old Hottentot woman bend¬ 
ing over a fire busily scraping some “cow-heel” 
in evident preparation for supper. I approached 
and questioned her to know if I could remain 
there for the night. She shook her head to 
signify that she could not understand me, and 
pointed to another light still further on, as token 
that I would find relief and someone to enter¬ 
tain me there. 
I thanked her with an humble salaam, and 
went forward on my way toward the designated 
spot, and on arriving there I perceived a much 
larger and more commodious hut; and the next 
instant found myself surrounded on all sides by 
