"Don't you worry," he said. "There'll be plenty of excitement at Windhuk when I tell those old people. I wouldn't be surprised at a riot. You don't know how obstinate and querulous octogenarians are when they're in danger of being robbed of their rights. They hate sporting chances. We shall wish we were peacefully back amongst the gorillas yet." Touching at Swakopmund, we despatched Sally Rebecca and Stringer by rail to Windhuk, a distance of about 240 miles. Molly, who insisted on going there by 'plane, remained on board. When we reached Walfisch Bay, "The Pilgrim Father" was anchored some distance out from the land to prevent any troublesome questions being asked by the port authorities. It was our intention eventually to convey the glands by rowboat to the mainland and thence by aeroplane to Windhuk. Meanwhile, Gran'pa, Dr. Croft and I went ashore to make final arrangements with Oakley and Newland, who were awaiting us with their machines. The crew, anxious to get a glimpse of "civilization" again, followed in another boat. Thus it came about that Molly, Captain Morgan and the gorillas were left on board alone--one of those foolish arrangements which never reveal their importance until it is too late. We were met by Oakley and Newland the moment we landed and at once inspected the "town"--a miserable looking collection of corrugated iron buildings, an uninviting hotel, and a few stores--all dumped down in a great expanse of bare, flat sand. A terrible example of how not to develop one of the finest natural harbors on the East Coast of Africa. Oppressed by the gloomy aspect of the place, Dr. Croft and I decided to return to the ship, leaving Gran'pa to come back later with the crew. Anchored about half a mile out, "The Pilgrim Father" looked very picturesque and romantic, standing silhouetted against the faint yellowish-gray glow of the twilight sky. As we approached, we heard sounds of music stealing over the quiet waters, "March of the Men of Harlech!" "Captain Morgan's busy with his concertina," remarked Croft. "Yes! He sounds a little erratic, though," I replied. The music stopped and the gentle splash of the oars took its place. From the shore came the sound of a sudden burst of human cries in the still night air, and then the sharp yelp-yelp of a dog. Then more music--quick and rollicking--of the "hi-tiddly-hi-ti!" variety. It lasted for about a minute and was immediately succeeded by a man's deep laugh. Silence again. A star winked here and there, and presently a bright yellow light sprang out of the ship's side, casting a moon-like image on the water. "How peaceful!" I thought. Once more the concertina spoke to us--but with a different, steadier and surer voice than before. "Ah! This is the _real_ Captain Morgan!" I said to Croft. "But the other. . . . I wouldn't be surprised if the old sinner hasn't been teaching Molly to play!"