The Ocean Waifs Part 26

s...o...b..ll gave them a divorce, as effectual as could have been obtained in the court, ever to be noted as that of Sir Cresswell Cresswell.

The process was brief,--the execution following quick upon the judgment; though the sentences p.r.o.nounced upon the criminals were not exactly the same.

The fish was knocked on the head; while a different, though equally expeditious, mode of punishment was executed upon the bird. Its head was twisted from its body!

Thus, somewhat after the fas.h.i.+on of Kilkenny cats, perished two tyrants of the sea. Let us hope that the tyrants of the land may all receive an a.n.a.logous compensation for their crimes!

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE.

GLOOMY PROSPECTS.

The reappearance of the sword-fish,--if it was the same that had already paid them a visit,--or more likely the discovery and pursuit of the "school" of flying-fish,--had caused the albacores to decamp from the neighbourhood of the _Catamaran_; so that with the exception of that taken from the talons of the frigate-bird, not one was any longer to be seen.

Once recovered from the excitement, caused by the singular accident that happened to the _Catamaran_,--as well as the other incident almost as singular,--her crew made an inspection of their craft, to see if any damage had accrued from the shock.

Fortunately there was none. The piercing of the plank, in which the bony rostrum remained firmly imbedded, was of no consequence whatever; and, although several feet of the "sword,"--the whole of the blade, in fact, excepting that which protruded above,--could be perceived jutting out underneath, they made no attempt to "extract" it: since it could not greatly interfere with the sailing qualities of the _Catamaran_.

The plank itself had been started slightly out of place aid one or two other timbers loosened. But in such able hands as those of s...o...b..ll and the sailor, these trifling damages were soon made good again.

The two baited hooks were once more dropped into the water, but the sun went down over the ocean without either of them receiving a nibble. No albacore,--no fish whatever,--no bird,--no living creature of any kind,--was in sight at the setting of that sun; which, slowly descending, as it were, into the silent depths of the ocean, left them in the purple gleam of the twilight.

Notwithstanding the interesting events which had transpired,--enough to secure them against a single moment of _ennui_,--they were far from being cheerful in that twilight hour. The stirring incidents of the day had kept them from thinking of their real situation; but when all was once more tranquil,--even to the ocean around them,--their thoughts naturally reverted to their very narrow chances of ultimately escaping from that wide, wild waste, stretching, as it seemed, to the ends of the world!

With wistful glances they had watched the sun sinking over the sea. The point where the golden luminary disappeared from their sight was due westward,--the direction in which they desired to go. Could they have only been at that moment where his glorious...o...b..was s.h.i.+ning down from the vertex, they would have been upon dry land; and, O what a thrilling thought is that of firm stable earth, to the wretched castaway clinging upon his frail raft in the middle of the endless ocean!

They were discouraged by the dead calm that reigned around them; for every breath of the breeze had died away before sunset. The surface of the sea was tranquil even to gla.s.siness; and as the twilight deepened, it began to mirror the millions of twinkling stars gradually thickening in the sky.

There was something awful in the solemn stillness that reigned around them; and with something like awe did it inspire them.

It was not unbroken by sounds; but these were of a character to sadden rather than cheer them, for they were sounds to be heard only in the wilderness of the great deep,--such as the half-screaming laugh of the sea-mew, and the wild whistle of the boatswain-bird.

Another cause of discouragement to our castaways,--one which had that day arisen,--was the loss of their valuable dried fish.

It is true that only a portion of their stock had been spilled into the engulfing ocean; but even this was a cause of regret; since it might not be so easy to make up the quant.i.ty lost.

While angling among the albacores, with the prospect of making a successful troll, they had thought less of it. Now that these fish had forsaken them,--leaving only three in their possession,--and they were in doubt whether they might ever come across another "school,"--more acutely did they feel the misfortune.

Their spirits sank still lower, as the descending twilight darkened around them; and for an hour or more not a cheerful word was heard or spoken by that sad quartette composing the crew of the _Catamaran_.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

THANKSGIVING.

Despondency cannot endure forever. Kind Nature has not ordained that it should be so. It may have its periods, longer or shorter as the case may be; but always to be succeeded by intervals, if not of absolute cheerfulness, at least of emotions less painful to endure.

About an hour after the going down of the sun, the spirits of those on board the _Catamaran_ became partially freed from the weight that for some time had been pressing upon them.

Of coa.r.s.e this change was attributable to some cause; and as it was a physical one, there could be no difficulty in tracing it.

It was simply the springing up of a breeze,--a fine breeze blowing steadily, and to the west,--the very direction in which it was desirous they should make way.

And they _did_ make way; the _Catamaran_, in spite of the terrible "stab" she had received, scudding through the water, as if to show that the a.s.sault of the sword-fish had in no way disabled her.

Motion has always a soothing effect upon anyone suffering from despondent spirits; more especially when the movement is being made in the right direction. A boat stationary in the water, or drifting the wrong way against the stroke of the rower,--a railway carriage at a stand, or gliding back to the platform, contrary to the direction in which the traveller intends to go,--such experiences always produce a feeling of irksome uneasiness. When either begins to progress in its proper course,--no matter how slowly,--the unpleasant feeling instantly pa.s.ses away; for we know that we are going "onward!"

"Onward!" a word to cheer the drooping spirit,--a glorious word for the despondent.

It was not that anyone on board the _Catamaran_ had the slightest idea that that breeze would waft them to land; or even last long enough to bear them many leagues over the ocean. It was the thought that they were making progress in the right course,--going _onward_,--simply that thought that cheered them.

It roused them from their despondency sufficiently to beget thoughts of supper; and s...o...b..ll was seen starting up with some alacrity, and scrambling towards his _stores_.

His "locker" lay amids.h.i.+ps; and as he had not far to go, nor any great variety of comestibles to choose from, he soon returned to the stern,-- near which the others were seated,--carrying in his outstretched claws half a dozen of the "pickled" biscuits, and some morsels of cured fish.

It was a coa.r.s.e and meagre meal; at which even a pauper would have pouted his lips; but to those for whom it was intended it had relish enough to make it not only acceptable, but welcome.

A greater delicacy was before their eyes, lying on the deck of the _Catamaran_. That was the albacore,--a fish whose _flesh_ is equal in excellence to that of any taken out of the ocean. But the flesh of the albacore was _raw_; while that of s...o...b..ll's stock, if not cooked, was at least cured; and this, in the opinion of the Catamarans, rendered it more palatable.

With a little "Canary" to wash it down, it was not to be despised,--at least, under the circ.u.mstances in which they were who supped upon it; but the wine was sparingly distributed, and drunk with a large admixture of water.

The b.u.mp of economy stood high upon the skull of the Coromantee.

Perhaps to this might be attributed the fact of his being still in existence: since but for the industry he had exhibited in collecting his stores, and his careful h.o.a.rding of them, he might, with his _protege_, have long before succ.u.mbed to starvation.

While eating their frugal supper, s...o...b..ll expressed regret at not having a fire,--upon which he might have cooked a cut from the albacore.

The _chef-de-caboose_ was not ignorant of the excellence of the fish.

He really felt regret,--less on his own account, than in consideration of his _protege_, Lilly Lalee; whose palate he would fain have indulged with something more delicate than sun-dried fish and salty biscuit.

But as fire was out of the question, he was compelled to forego the pleasure of cooking Lalee's supper; and could only gain gratification by giving to the girl more than her share of the sweet Canary.

Small as was the quant.i.ty distributed to each, it had the effect of still further cheering them; and, after supper, they sat for some time indulging in lighter converse than that to which they had lately accustomed themselves.

"Somethin'" said the sailor, "seem to tell me--jest as if I heerd it in a whisper--that we'll yet reach land, or come in sight o' a s.h.i.+p. I doan' know what puts it in my head; unless it be because we've been so many times near going down below, an' still we're above water yet, an' I hope likely to keep so."

"Ya--ya! Ma.s.sa Ben. We float yet,--we keep so long 's we kin,--dat fo'

sartin. We nebba say die,--long 's de _Catamaran_ hold togedda."

"I war 'stonished," continued the sailor, without heeding the odd interpolation of the sea-cook, "wonderful 'stonished when that flyin'-fish chucked itself aboard our bit o' plankin', an' it no bigger than the combin' o' a hatchway. What kud 'a conducted it thear,--to that spot above all others o' the broad ocean? What but the hand o'

that angel as sits up aloft? No, Snowy! ye may talk as ye like 'bout your Duppys and Jumbes, and that other creetur ye call your Fetush; but I tell ye, n.i.g.g.e.r, thear be somethin' up above us as is above all them,--an' that's the G.o.d o' the Christyun. He be thear; and He sent the flyin'-fish into our wee bit o' raft, and He sent the shower as saved me and little Will'm from dyin' o' thust; and He it war that made you an' me drift to'rds each other,--so as that we might work thegither to get out o' this here sc.r.a.pe, as our own foolishness and wickedness ha' got us into."

"Dat am de troof, Ma.s.sa Brace, dat las' remark,--only not altogedder!

'T want altogedder our own fault dat brought us on board de slabe-s.h.i.+p _Pandora_,--neider you not maseff. It mite a been our foolishness, dat I do admit; but de wickedness war more de fault ob oder men, dat am wickeder dan eider you or dis unfortunate Coromantee n.i.g.g.a."

"Never mind, Snowy," responded the sailor, "I know there be still some good in ye; and maybe there be good in all o' us, to be favoured and protected as we've been in the midst o' so many dangers. I think after what's happened this day,--especially our escaping from that sharks an'

the long swim as we had to make after'ards,--we ought to be uncommon thankful, and say somethin' to show it, too."