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 of getting so thoroughly soaked, and came to the conclusion that I had better make my way back. While I was thus contemplating my return, I caught sight of a gigantic wave towering on towards the ship, and before I could devise any means for my protection, the vessel, trembling to her very centre, ploughed her way into the billow, where the entire forecastle was quite submerged. My fingers instinctively clutched at the trellis-work of the flooring; but, failing to gain a hold, I was caught up by the retreating flood and carried overboard. Fortunately the lower cross-bar broke my fall, so that instead of being dashed out to sea, I slipped almost perpendicularly down the ship’s side. The massive anchor, emblem of hope, proved my deliverance. Between one of its arms and the timbers of the ship I hung suspended, until the boatswain came just in time to my aid, and rescued me from my perilous position.

But to return to Table Mountain, the watch-tower of Cape Colony. In few other points of the coast-line of any continent are the mountains more representative of the form of the inland country than here. At the foot of the three contiguous mountains. Table Mountain, Devil’s Peak, and Lion’s Head, and guarded, as it were, by their giant mass, reposing, as it might well appear, in one oof [sic] the most secure and sheltered nooks in the world, lay Cape Town, the scene of my first landing. It is the metropolis of South Africa, the most populous city south of the Zambesi, and the second in importance