The Ocean Waifs Part 43

They did not stay to waste time in conjectures. It was enough for them to perceive that the four individuals thus seen were trying to get out of their reach. This was _prima facie_ proof that they had something worth carrying along with them; perhaps water!

Some one made use of the word. It was like proclaiming a reprieve to a wretch upon the scaffold about to be launched into eternity. It caused such excitement in the minds of the motley crew--all of them suffering from extreme thirst--that, without further hesitancy, they bent eagerly to their oars,--putting forth the utmost effort of their strength in chase of the _Catamaran_.

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIV.

The Chase.

Half pulling, half trusting to the sail, in a few seconds they were alongside the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_. They saw what it was and divined how it came to be there; though still puzzled by the pyrotechnic display exhibited on its summit.

As they pa.s.sed under the shadow of the huge ma.s.s some proposed that they should stay by it,--alleging that it would furnish food for all; but this proposal was rejected by the majority.

"_Pardieu_!" exclaimed the directing voice of Le Gros; "we have food a plenty. It's drink we want now. There's no water upon the whale; and there must be some in possession of these runaways, whoever they be.

Let us first follow _them_! If we overhaul them, we can come back. If not, we can return all the same!"

This proposal appeared too reasonable to be rejected. A muttered a.s.sent of the majority decided its acceptance; and the raft, yielding to the renewed impulse of the rowers, swept past the carca.s.s,--leaving both the black ma.s.s and the blazing beacon astern.

As if further to justify the course of action he had counselled, Le Gros continued--

"No fear about our finding the dead fish. This fog is clearing away.

In half an hour there won't be a trace of it. We shall be able to make out the carca.s.s if the whale twenty miles off,--especially with the smoke of that infernal fire to guide us. Pull like the devil! Be sure of it, there's water in one of those casks we see. Only think of it,--_water_!"

It scarce needed the repet.i.tion of this magic word to stimulate his thirsty companions. They were already pulling with all their strength.

For about ten minutes the chase continued,--both the pursued and the pursuer equally enveloped in vapour. They were less than two hundred yards apart, and virtually within view,--though not so near as to distinguish one another's features. Each crew could make out the forms of the other; but only to tell that they were human beings clad in some sort of costume.

In this respect the Catamarans had the advantage. They knew who were their pursuers; and all about them.

The latter were still in a state of ignorance as to who were the four individuals so zealously endeavouring to avoid an interview with them.

They could perceive that only two of them were full-grown men, and that the other two were of smaller size; but this gave them no clew for the identification of the fugitives.

Of course it did not occur to any of them to think over the rest of the _Pandora's_ people; and even if it had, there was no one who would have for a moment supposed that either the black cook, s...o...b..ll, or the little Portuguese pickaninny,--rarely seen upon the slaver's deck,-- could be among the survivors.

Such a conjecture never occurred to any of the ruffians upon the great raft; and therefore they were continuing the chase still ignorant of the ident.i.ty of those who seemed so desirous of escaping them.

It was only after the fog had floated entirely away,--or grown so thin as to appear but transparent film,--that the pursuers identified those they were pursuing.

Then did their doubts cease and their conjectures come to a termination.

Of the four forms distinguishable upon the deck of the escaping craft, there was one that could not be mistaken.

That huge, rounded bust covered with its sable epidermis--for the negro had stripped to his work,--surmounted by a spherical occiput,--could belong to no living creature but the ex-cook of the _Pandora_. It was s...o...b..ll to a certainty!

A general shout proclaimed the recognition; and for some moments the air was rent with the voices of his _ci-devant_ comrades calling upon the Coromantee to "come to an anchor."

"Lie to, s...o...b..ll!" cried several of his old comrades. "Why have you cut your cable in that fas.h.i.+on? Hold on till we come up. We mean you no harm!"

s...o...b..ll did hold on; though not in the sense that his former a.s.sociates desired. On the contrary, their request only stimulated him to fresh exertions, to avoid the renewal of an acquaintance which he knew would certainly end in his ruin.

The Coromantee was not to be cajoled. With Ben Brace by his side, muttering wholesome counsel, he lent a deaf ear to the proposal of the pursuers; and only answered it by pulling more energetically at his oar.

What had been only a request, now became a demand,--accompanied by threats and protestation. s...o...b..ll was menaced with the most dire vengeance; and told of terrible punishments that awaited him on his capture.

Their threats had no more influence than their solicitations; and they who had given utterance to them arriving after a time, at this conviction, ceased talking altogether.

s...o...b..ll's silent, though evidently determined, rejection of their demands had the effect of irritating those who had made them; and stimulated by their spite with more energy than ever did they bend themselves to the task of overtaking the fugitive craft.

Two hundred yards still lay between pursuer and pursued. Two hundred yards of clear, un.o.bstructed ocean. Was that distance to become diminished, to the capture of the _Catamaran_; or was it to be increased, to her escape?

CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE.

NEARER AND NEARER.

Were the _Catamarans_ to escape or be captured? Though not propounded as above, this was the question that occupied the minds of both crews,-- the pursued and the pursuing.

Both were doing their very utmost,--the former to make their escape, the latter to prevent it; and very different were the motives by which the two parties were actuated. The occupants of the lesser raft believed themselves to be rowing and sailing for their lives; and they were not far astray in this belief; while those upon the larger embarkation were pulling after them with the most hostile intentions,--to rob them of everything they had got,--even their lives included.

So went they over the wide ocean: the pursued exerting themselves under the influence of fear; the pursuer, under that of a ferocious instinct.

In sailing qualities the _Catamaran_ was decidedly superior to the larger raft; and had the wind been only a little fresher she would soon have increased the distance between herself and her pursuer.

Unfortunately it was a very gentle breeze that was blowing at the time; and therefore it was a contest of speed that would most likely have to be decided by the oars. In this respect the _Catamaran_ laboured under a great disadvantage,--she could only command a single pair of oars; while, taking into account the various implements--capstan-bars and handspikes--possessed by her compet.i.tor, nearly a dozen oars might be reckoned upon. In fact, when her crew had got fairly settled down to the chase, quite this number of men could be seen acting as rowers.

Though their strokes were by no means either regular or efficient, still did they produce a rate of speed greater than that of the _Catamaran_; and the crew of the latter saw, to their dismay, that their pursuers were gaining upon them.

Not very rapidly, but sufficiently so to be perceived, and to inspire them with the dread belief, that in course of time they would be overtaken.

Under this belief, men of a despairing turn of mind would have ceased to exert themselves, and yielded to a fate that appeared almost certain to ensue.

But neither the English sailor nor the Coromantee sea-cook were individuals of the yielding kind. They were both made of sterner stuff,--and even when the chase was undoubtedly going _against_ them, they were heard muttering to each other words of encouragement, and a mutual determination never to lay down their oars, so long as six feet of water separated them from their unpitying pursuers.

"No," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the sailor, "it 'ud be no use. They'd show us no more marcy than so many sharks. I know it by their ways. Don't lose a stroke, Snowy. We may tire 'em out yet."

"Nebba fear fo' me, Ma.s.sa Brace!" replied the Coromantee. "A keep pullin' so long's de be a poun' o' trength in ma arms, or a bit o' breff in ma body. Nebba fear!"

It might appear as though the crew of the _Catamaran_ were now contending against fate, and without hope. This, however, was not the case; for there was still something like a hope to cheer them on, and nerve them to continue their exertions. What was it?

The answer to this interrogatory would have been found by anyone who could have looked upon the sea,--at some distance astern of the chase.

There might have been observed an appearance upon the water, which betokened it different from that through which they were making their way.