"In order to get away from Cape Town, and at the same time follow my idea of settling down in some warm climate where a man can become a planter and have a lot of blacks do the work for him, I shipped before the mast on the Dutch bark Java, out of Amsterdam, bound for Batavia. This craft had put in short of water and several hands who had died on the passage down to the Cape. The Java was unlucky. The most unlucky tub that ever sailed, except the Flying Dutchman, but unlucky enough for any real ship. We winds up in a typhoon, a hundred miles west of the Sunda Strait. The masts went by the board and at the end of the blow, after two days of pumping and praying, a steamer picks us up. She was bound for Singapore. The second mate of the steamer, a young fellow from London, decided he wanted to work the Java into port, his idea being Anjer. The skipper says 'all right' and he called for volunteers. As I said, I was still a fool, so I joined five other men and with the young second mate we was put on board the Java; I was the only one of her own crew and this scared me. Them Dutchmen knew when they were well off; and they stayed aboard the steamer.
"The second mate of the steamer did not know exactly what to do. He said, 'We will get up a jury mast,' but there was nothing to make a jury mast out of. The steamer was far down on the horizon when we found by sounding the well that the old tub was gaining water fast. After that we did nothing but pump. We pumps for the best part of a week. I don't remember what we ate, or if we did not eat. The crowd on board curses our young skipper, and pumps. They kept on pumping because we found the long boat that we depended upon stove in and all of the thwarts smashed.
"At the end of the week another blow comes up from the West. 'So long, good old London Town,' one of our fellows sings out. 'The hell with dyin' tired,' and he drops the pump handle and sits down. We all do the same, and the second mate, who took his trick along with the rest, says, 'I guess you are right; we might as well rest a bit before swimming.'
"We rested all afternoon and till late at night. I had my wad in a pouch at my belt and each of us had two life belts. We ate a little; the young second mate found a small beaker of rum in the cabin and we had some of that, and some hard bread and a hunk of cheese. I drank very little rum; I was afraid of going to sleep.
"At about midnight we caught the beach. We were in the breakers before we knew it and when she struck, the sea breached over her and away we went. I lost my two life belts the first thing and made up my mind to die, but I held my breath. Might as well die with my lungs full of air I figured as I went over and over. The water was warm, and I did not mind it. Before I knew where I was, I washed up on the beach and was lucky enough to get clear of the undertow. All I had on was a pair of torn pants and my belt with the soaked notes. Not a sign was to be had of any of the salvage crew, and the beach for miles was strewn with bits of wreckage. At daylight I was met by a man coming out from behind a clump of small trees. He was dressed in dirty white clothes and had a young beard. I told him the yarn of the wreck and asked him where I was. He directed me to Anjer, about thirty miles east along the coast. I asked him if he could give me some clothes. He said yes, if I would wait where I was he would be back in about two hours.
"Well, to make a long story short, as they say, I waited, being a natural born fool and not knowing any better. Still," and Australia paused in his extraordinary tale, "I don't think anyone else would have done different. I was so glad about meeting this man that I carefully unrolled a wet five-pound note and set it out on a rock to dry, weighting it with a little stone. I wanted to square him for his trouble.
"About noon my man shows up. He has a suit of white cotton clothes that were not any too new, a pair of shoes, brogans, they call them, and a straw sun helmet. He also gave me a half loaf of bread, after I handed him the five-quid note. This took his breath away, so he got reckless.
"About two miles out of Anjer I was met by two constables. They ran at me so fast that I knew there was something wrong and before I could say Jack Robinson they had the bracelets on me, and was going through my pockets for weapons. They got the wad, and that settled me. 'Gawd,' I says, 'what am I in for now?' My clothes was stripped off of me in the jail, and took as evidence, I found out later. When my shoes came off, my left foot, for I wore no sox, was a dull red, like rust—this was blood.
"'You are charged with murdering the keeper of the Fourth Point Light!'
"'Great Gawd!' I cries, 'what next!'