The Ocean Waifs Part 44

It resembled a dark, shadowy line, extending athwart the horizon. It might not have attracted the notice of an ordinary observer, but to the eye of Ben Brace,--as he sat by his oar facing it,--that dark line had a peculiar signification.

He knew that it denoted rougher water, and a stiffer breeze than that blowing upon them; and from this, as well as the clouds fast gathering astern, he knew there was a wind coming from that quarter.

He had imparted his observation to s...o...b..ll, and it was this that continued to inspire them with a hope of ultimate escape. Both believed that, with a strong wind in their favour, they would have the advantage of the pursuer; and so, while still bending all their energies to the propulsion of the _Catamaran_, they kept their eyes almost continually fixed upon the sea astern,--even with a more anxious glance than that with which they regarded their pursuers.

"If we can keep out o' their way," muttered he to his fellow oarsman, "only twenty minutes longer! By that time yonder breeze 'll be down on us; and then we'll ha' some chance. There be no doubt but they're gainin' on us now. But the breeze be a gainin' on them,--equally, if not faster. O if we only had a puff o' yonder wind! It be blowin'

fresh and strong. I can see it curlin' up the water not three knots astarn o' the big raft. Pull for your life, Snowy. s.h.i.+ver my timbers!

they be a gainin' on us faster than ever!"

There was a despairing tone in these last words, that told how fearful appeared their situation to the captain of the _Catamaran_; and the sign of a.s.sent made by s...o...b..ll in reply,--an ominous shake of the head,-- showed that the ex-cook shared the apprehensions of his comrade.

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX.

CUT IN TWAIN.

For some seconds the sailor and s...o...b..ll remained silent,--both too busy with their oars, as well as their eyes, to find time for speech.

Their pursuers were noisy enough. They had kept quiet, so long as there appeared to be any uncertainty about the results of the chase; but as soon as they became a.s.sured that their clumsy craft was going faster than that of which they were in pursuit,--and they no longer felt doubt about overtaking the latter,--their fiendish voices once more filled the air; and commands for the Catamarans to come to,--with threats of revenge in case of non-compliance,--were hurled after the fugitives.

One man was conspicuous among the rest both for the position which he held upon the raft and the menacing words and gestures of which he made use. This man was Le Gros.

Standing prominently forward, near the head of the embarkation, with a long boat-hook in his hand, he appeared to direct the movements of the others,--urging them in every way to their utmost exertions. He was heard telling them that he saw both food and water in possession of the fugitives--a cask of the latter, as he stated, being lashed to the _Catamaran_.

It need scarce be said that the statement--whether true or fallacious,-- acted as a stimulus to his comrades at the oar. The word "water" was music to their ears; and, on hearing it p.r.o.nounced, one and all of them put forth their utmost strength.

The increased speed thus obtained for the larger craft war likely to bring about the crisis. She was now seen to gain upon the lesser more rapidly than ever; and, before another ten minutes had elapsed, she had forged so close to the stern timbers of the _Catamaran_ that an active man might almost have leaped from one to the other.

The crew of the latter beheld the proximity with despair. They saw the black waves, with white curling crests, coming on behind. They saw the sky becoming overcast above their heads; but it appeared only to scowl upon them,--as if to make darker the dread doom that was now threatening so near.

"s.h.i.+ver my timbers!" cried the sailor, alluding to that too tardy wind, "it will be too late to save us!"

"Too late!" echoed the voice of Le Gros from the big raft, his white teeth, as they shone through his black beard, imparting to him a ferocity of aspect that was hideous to behold. "Too late, you say, Monsieur Brace. For what, may I ask? Not too late for us to get a drink out of your water-cask. Ha! ha! ha!"

"You son of a sea-cook!" he continued, addressing himself to the negro; "why don't you hold your oars? _Sacre-Dieu_! what's the use, you ugly n.i.g.g.e.r? Don't you see we'll board you in six seconds more? Drop your oars, I say, and save time. If you don't, we'll skin you alive when we've got our flippers upon you."

"Nebba, Ma.s.sa Grow!" defiantly retorted s...o...b..ll? "you nebba 'kin dis n.i.g.g.a 'live. He go die 'fore you do dat. He got him knife yet. By golly! me kill more than one ob you 'fore gib in. So hab a care, Ma.s.sa Grow! You lay hand on ole Snowy, you cotch de tarnel goss."

To this threat of resistance the Frenchman did not vouchsafe reply: for the rafts were now so near to each other that his attention became engrossed by something that left no time for further speech.

He saw that the _Catamaran_ was within reach of his boat-hook, and, leaning forwards with the long shaft extended, he struck its grappling-iron into her stern timber.

For a second or two there was a struggle, which would have ended in the two rafts being brought in contact with one another but for an adroit stroke given by the oar of the English sailor. This not only detached the boat-hook from its grip, but also from the grasp of Le Gros, and sent the implement s.h.i.+vering through the air.

At the same instant of time the Frenchman, losing his balance, was seen to stagger, and then sink suddenly downwards; not into a prostrate position, but perpendicularly,--as if his legs had penetrated between the timbers of the raft.

This was exactly what had occurred: for as soon as the spectators in both crafts could recover from their surprise, they saw only so much of Monsieur Le Gros as lay between his armpits and the crown of his head,-- his limbs and the lower half of his body being concealed between the planks that prevented him from sinking wholly into the water.

Perhaps it would have been better for him had he made a complete plunge of it. At all events, a bold "header" could not have had for him a more unfortunate ending. Scarce had he sunk between the timber when a wild shriek came forth from his throat,--accompanied by a pallor of countenance, and a contortion of his features, that proclaimed something more than a mere "start" received by suddenly sinking waist-deep into the sea.

One of his comrades,--the confederate ruffian already spoken of,--rushed forward to raise him out of the trap,--from which he was evidently unable to extricate himself.

The man caught hold of him by the arms, and was dragging him up; when, all at once, he was seen to let go, and start back with a cry of horror!

This singular conduct was explained on looking at the object from which he had made such a precipitate retreat. It was no longer Le Gros, nor even Le Gros's body; but only the upper half of it, cut off by the abdomen, as clean as if it had been severed by a pair of gigantic shears!

"A shark!" cried a voice, which only gave utterance to the thought that sprung up simultaneously in the minds of all,--both the occupants of the big raft, and the crew of the Catamaran.

Thus deplorably terminated the life of a sinful man; who certainly merited punishment, and, perhaps deserved no better fate.

CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN.

AN UNLOOKED-FOR DELIVERANCE.

A spectacle so unexpected,--but, above all, of such a horrid nature,-- could not fail to produce a powerful impression upon those who were witnesses to it. It even caused a change of proceedings on the part of the pursuers,--almost a suspension of the pursuit,--and on that of the pursued some relaxation in their efforts to escape. Both parties appeared for some seconds as if spellbound, and the oars on both rafts were for a while held "apeak."

This pause in the action was in favour of the _Catamaran_, whose sailing qualities were superior to those of her pursuer. Her crew, moreover, less caring for what had happened to Monsieur Le Gros, were the first to recover from their surprise; and before the comrades of the half-eaten Frenchman thought of continuing the chase, they had forced ahead several lengths of their craft from the dangerous contiguity so near being established between them.

The ruffian crew--now castaways--of the _Pandora_ had been awed by the strange incident,--so much so as to believe, for a time, that something more than chance had interfered to bring it about. They were not all friends of the unfortunate man, who had succ.u.mbed to such a singular fate. The inquest that had been interrupted was still fresh in their minds, and many of them believed that the inquiry--had it proceeded to a just termination--would have resulted in proving the guilt of Le Gros, and proclaiming him the murderer of O'Gorman.

Under this belief, there were many aboard the big raft that would not have cared to continue the chase any further, had it merely been to avenge the death of their late leader. With them, as with the others, there was a different motive for doing so,--a far more powerful incentive,--and that was the thirst which tortured all, and the belief that the escaping craft carried the means to relieve it.

The moiety of their mutilated chief, lying along the planks of the raft, engaged their thoughts only for a very short while; and was altogether forgotten, when the cry of "Water!" once more rising in their midst, urged them to resume the pursuit.

Once more did they betake themselves to their oars,--once more did they exert their utmost strength,--but with far less effect than before.

They were still stimulated by the torture of thirst; but they no longer acted with that unanimity which secures success. The head that had hitherto guided them with those imperious eyes--now glaring ghastly from the extremity of the severed trunk--was no longer of authority among them; and they acted in that undecided and irregular manner always certain to result in defeat.

Perhaps, had things continued as they were, they might have made up for the lost opportunity; and, in time, have overtaken the fugitives on the _Catamaran_; but during that excited interval a change had come over the surface of the sea, which influenced the fate both of pursuers and pursued.

The dark line, first narrowly observed by the crew of the _Catamaran_ upon the distant verge of the horizon, was no longer a mere streak of shadowed water. It had developed during the continuance of the chase, and now covered both sea and sky,--the latter with black c.u.mbrous clouds, the former with quick curling waves, that lashed the water-casks supporting both rafts, and proclaimed the approach, if not of a storm, at least a fresh breeze,--likely to change the character of the chase hitherto kept up between them.

And very quickly came that change to pa.s.s. By the time that the castaways on the great raft had once more headed their clumsy embarkation to the pursuit, they saw the more trim craft,--by her builders yclept the _Catamaran_--with her sails spread widely to the wind, gliding rapidly out of their reach, and "walking the water like a thing of life."

They no longer continued the pursuit. They might have done so, but for the waves that now, swelling up around the raft, admonished them of a danger hitherto unknown. With the spray rus.h.i.+ng over them, and the sea, at each fresh a.s.sault, threatening to engulf their ill-governed craft, they found sufficient employment for their remaining strength, in clinging to the timbers of their rude embarkation.

CHAPTER EIGHTY EIGHT.

A THREATENED STORM.

Thus, once more, were the Catamarans delivered from a terrible danger,-- almost literally "from the jaws of death"; and once more, too, by what appeared a providential interference.

Ben Brace actually believed it so. It would have been difficult for anyone to have thought otherwise; but the moral mind of the sailor had of late undergone some very serious transformations; and the perils through which they had been pa.s.sing,--with their repeated deliverances, all apparently due to some unseen hand,--had imbued him with a belief that the Almighty must be everywhere,--even in the midst of the illimitable ocean.

It was this faith that had sustained him through the many trials through which they had gone; and that, in the very latest and last,--when the ruffians upon the raft were fast closing upon the _Catamaran_,--had led him to give encouraging counsels to s...o...b..ll to keep on. It had encouraged him, in fine, to strike the boat-hook from the grasp of Le Gros,--which act had ended by putting their implacable enemy _hors du combat_, and conducting to their final deliverance.