_December 4th._—We left Hycomkap in the afternoon for the Bay, and walked the whole night through and the following morning besides, with only half an hour’s intermission. The cool sea breeze fanned our faces about eight o’clock, and to my intense delight I saw in the distance two vessels at anchor in Walfisch Bay. We arrived there at ten in the forenoon, not a bit tired, but highly excited. The vessels were whalers; all the Scheppmansdorf party were on the beach, and seeing and talking to so many people seemed quite another world to me, after my long and almost solitary ramble. These whalers were the very first vessels, excepting one, which had touched at the Bay since my arrival in the country. I now put the store-house into habitable order, and settled down, awaiting the arrival of the ship I expected, which was to bring me all my letters, my clothes, and everything that I had left behind me at Cape Town. Days passed, the cold was bitter, and I passed most of the day-time rolled up in my caross. The wind whistled through every cranny, and though the sun was vertical at noon, yet its rays never seemed to touch us. I employed myself fishing with a seine-net, doing a little whale fishery in the bay, and in trying to harpoon small sharks out of my mackintosh pontoon; one gave me a capsize. I shot and captured one, and slew but lost three others; at least, though _habitués_ of the place, they never reappeared. I rode one day with Andersson to Scheppmansdorf, when we saw a brood of young ostriches, each about a foot high, with their parents, and gave chase. The creatures could run very nearly as fast as we, and had quite as good a wind, so, having a long start, they gave us a severe chase before we came up to them, when we slew six. Returning from Scheppmansdorf I drove the three miles in a cart that Mr. Bam had made himself, and as we were cantering over the plain I again saw the ostriches, and went after them in my chariot. I soon came up with them, and, jumping out, captured six more.