In this manner he gradually divested the chicken-hearted doctor of his apparel, and would, in all probability, not have left him in possession of the shirt on his back had it not been for the timely arrival of Hans and another European, then on their way to Walfisch Bay. The doctor’s story was, of course, soon told, and the rascally Hottentot was not only deprived of his booty, but soundly thrashed into the bargain. After having given the animals the necessary rest, we set out the next afternoon, about three o’clock, on the last stage for Scheppmansdorf. As the evening was starlight, we proceeded at a brisk pace till about midnight, when there suddenly arose from the sea a gloomy, bitter cold mist, which soon enveloped us in total darkness, and completely saturated every article of our dress. Unfortunately, in the early part of the night we had purposely left the wagon-track to save a very circuitous part of the road, and we had now nothing to guide us. Still, we toiled on as well as we could. But we had great difficulty in getting the poor Damaras to keep pace with us, who, being naked, suffered extremely. Every ten minutes they would lie down on the cold sand, perfectly indifferent to the consequences. If we had not used the utmost vigilance in keeping them moving, I am quite convinced that some of them would have perished. Toward morning the cold became so intense that I was no longer capable of holding the reins, and therefore dismounted and proceeded on foot. Daybreak brought no relief, for the fog still prevented us from ascertaining our position. The instinct of the oxen, however, came to our rescue, and, by giving them their own way, they soon took us safely to our destination. CHAPTER VI. Return to Scheppmansdorf.—Training Oxen for the Yoke.—Sporting.—The Flamingo.—The Butcher-bird: curious Superstition regarding it.—Preparing for Journey.—Servants described. Mr. and Mrs. Bam and their family were, I was glad to find, in good health, and, as heretofore, they gave me not only a most kind reception, but placed at my disposal the best of every thing which the house afforded. It is wonderful what habit and association will effect. When I visited Scheppmansdorf in the first instance, I thought it the most dismal spot that human eye ever rested on; but in the short space of a few weeks it had almost become endeared to me. I found what Shakspeare calls the “soul of goodness in things evil.” Dreariness was softened down into peaceful seclusion; the savage country round about assumed the dignity of primeval nature, fresh from the hand of the Creator; and the solemn and stern night-silence only hushed me into sounder sleep. These feelings and this trusting repose mainly originated in the kind ministrations and unaffected welcome of sincere friends.