CHAPTER XVIII
FROM CORISCO TO GABOON
August 8th, 1895.—Weather still very rough, the two mile spit of rock running seawards from Alondo Point is a white stretch of flying foam, and the roar and thunder of it shakes the rocky cliff on which the house stands. Mr. Ibea thinks, however, that we should make Cape Esterias by nightfall, presumably because we are all sober; for he tells me an enlivening tale of how he "started from Corisco, on just such a day as this," in a boat commanded and owned by a native, who was drunk at starting and became more so. In addition to himself and this disreputable person, there were some women, and a crew of four or five men. "Shortly," says Mr. Ibea, "we were upset and I had to swim about and put them all back into the boat again. I had not got them in half-an-hour before he got the boat over again, and I again had to fetch them out of the water." Mr. Ibea is a magnificent swimmer, and a fine dashing sailor, and I wish he were coming with me instead of Eveke, and would leave Eveke to look after pastoral matters; but this I know is not possible, and it may be worse to-morrow, so I'm off, and shall spend my time keeping the Lafayette from being upset, for I cannot swim round like ten Newfoundland story-book dogs, or one Mr. Ibea, gathering people from the South Atlantic waves and replacing them on board her, or any vessel. So I take a grateful farewell of Mrs. Ibea and the
