touch
his hand. He seized it with the grasp of death. It was the shaggy
hide of the bear Johannes, who was making for the shore, and who soon
dragged him clear of the surf, so that he could gain a footing. Philip
crawled up the beach above the reach of the waves, and, exhausted with
fatigue, sank down in a swoon.

When Philip was recalled from his state of lethargy, his first feeling
was intense pain in his still closed eyes, arising from having been
many hours exposed to the rays of an ardent sun. He opened them, but
was obliged to close them immediately, for the light entered into them
like the point of a knife. He turned over on his side, and covering
them with his hand, remained some time in that position, until, by
degrees, he found that his eyesight was restored. He then rose, and,
after a few seconds could distinguish the scene around him. The sea
was still rough, and tossed about in the surf fragments of the vessel;
the whole sand was strewed with her cargo and contents. Near him was
the body of Hillebrant, and the other bodies who were scattered on the
beach told him that those who had taken to the boat had all perished.

It was, by the height of the sun, about three o'clock in the
afternoon, as near as he could estimate; but Philip suffered such an
oppression of mind, he felt so wearied, and in such pain, that he took
but a slight survey. His brain was whirling, and all he demanded was
repose. He walked away from the scene of destruction, and having found
a sandhill, behind which he was defended from the burning rays of the
sun, he again lay down, and sank into a deep sleep, from which he did
not wake until the ensuing morning.

Philip was roused a second time by the sensation of something pricking
him on the chest. He started up, and beheld a figure standing over
him. His eyes were still feeble, and his vision indistinct; he rubbed
them for a time, for he first thought it was the bear Johannes, and
again that it was the supercargo Von Stroom who had appeared before
him; he looked again, and found that he was mistaken, although he had
warrant for supposing it to be either or both. A tall Hottentot, with
an assagai in his hand, stood by his side; over his shoulder he had
thrown the fresh-severed skin of the poor bear, and on his head,
with the curls descending to his waist, was one of the wigs of the
supercargo Von Stroom. Such was the gravity of the black's appearance
in this strange costume (for in every