Dutch and German. It was a raw morning, and as we raged
through the river-side streets I remember I heard the dry crackle of
wild geese going overhead, and wished I could get a shot at them. I
told one fellow--he was the most troublesome--that he was a disgrace to
a great Empire, and was only fit to fight with the filthy English.

'God in Heaven!' said the captain, 'we can delay no longer. We must
make shift the best we can. I can spare one man from the deck hands,
and you must give up one from the engine-room.'

That was arranged, and we were tearing back rather short in the wind
when I espied a figure sitting on a bench beside the booking-office on
the pier. It was a slim figure, in an old suit of khaki: some cast-off
duds which had long lost the semblance of a uniform. It had a gentle
face, and was smoking peacefully, looking out upon the river and the
boats and us noisy fellows with meek philosophical eyes. If I had seen
General French sitting there and looking like nothing on earth I
couldn't have been more surprised.

The man stared at me without recognition. He was waiting for his cue.

I spoke rapidly in Sesutu, for I was afraid the captain might know
Dutch.

'Where have you come from?' I asked.

'They shut me up in _tronk_,' said Peter, 'and I ran away. I am tired,
Cornelis, and want to continue the journey by boat.'

'Remember you have worked for me in Africa,' I said. 'You are just
home from Damaraland. You are a German who has lived thirty years away
from home. You can tend a furnace and have worked in mines.'

Then I spoke to the captain.

'Here is a fellow who used to be in my employ, Captain Schenk. It's
almighty luck we've struck him. He's old, and not very strong in the
head, but I'll go bail he's a good worker. He says he'll come with us
and I can use him in the engine-room.'

'Stand up,' said the Captain.

Peter stood up, light and slim and wiry as a leopard. A sailor does
not judge men by girth and weight.

'He'll do,' said Schenk, and the next minute he was readjusting his
crews and giving the strayed revellers the rough side of his tongue.
As it chanced, I couldn't keep Peter with me, but had to send him to
one of the barges, and I had time for no more than five words with him,
when I told him to hold his tongue and live up to his reputation as a
half-wit. That accursed _Sylvesterabend_ had played havoc with the
whole outfit, and the captain and I were weary men befor