Moreover we wandered inland, for the interior here, though barren and inhospitable, did not present the difficulties of the huge sand-dunes we had encountered lower down. Flat sandy wastes there were, devoid of vegetation, but easily traversed, and these were also broken by frequent barren kopjes, whilst but a few miles inland we saw high, flat-topped mountains. In many of the dry watercourses and on certain spots on the sand-flats we found likely-looking gravel, but never any diamonds, and at the end of ten days we decided to return to Swakopmund, from whence we could pick up a steamer to Luderitzbucht. Jim suggested this course to us, whilst offering, if we so wished, to carry out his original offer to land us there himself. “But,” said he, “if you’re not keen on it, I’ll just drop you at Swakopmund, where you’ll get a boat easier than you would at Walfish Bay. We’ve got something else on up here that might be worth our while--if you really are not keen!” We quite fell in with Jim’s view, for we neither of us relished beating back against headwinds all the way to Luderitzbucht in the cutter; besides, Jim had proved himself a white man right through, and we didn’t want to stand in the way of that mysterious “something else” he had on. We never asked him what it was, but some funny things could be told about those sealing cutters’ doings along the coast in those days--when none of them were particularly keen about the German Customs regulations! Well, good luck to Jim and his “crew” anyway--they were good sorts! So they landed us at Swakopmund, and before leaving again Jim told us that he expected to be back in Luderitzbucht in about a month, and, if we were still there and cared to do it, he would take us down to a place not far north of the Orange River mouth where he had heard diamonds had been picked up. But our late experience had shaken our faith in promising-looking gravel patches, and so we omitted to follow up this clue, which, as events proved later, might very probably have led us to discover the famous and fabulously rich Pomona fields. So, with a vague promise to meet again somewhere, we parted from Jim, who cleared away up the coast--ostensibly at least--on his mysterious errand, and whom I never saw again.