ir ..--, . '■> 1 \ ( --f .... v ^K Jgij THE OCEAN WAIFS A STORY UF ADVENTURE ON LAND AND SEA - - . a , • * • e ■> BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID WITH ILL US TRA TIONS A NEW EDITION WITH A MEMOIR BY R. H. STODDARD NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL BOOK COMPANY 310-318 Sixth Avenue Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1869, by FIELDS, OSGOOD & CO., in the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. Entered according to act of Congress, in thejyear 1885, by in the office b\ fW'Eibrarlan dT "Cb'n'gress*. at Washington. Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1889, by WORTHINGTON CO., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. New York, January 1st, 1869. Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.— I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exclusive right of pubiication in the United States, of all my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known as Boy's Novels. MAYNE REID. MEMOIR OF MAYNE KEID. Ho one who lias written books for the young during the present century ever had so large a circle of readers aa Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum« stances to write the books by which he is chiefly known. His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, \nd whose battles he helped to win. He was probably more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of the United States forty years ago than any native-born American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the kind that casual biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent obscurity which is the lot of most men, and is their hap- piness, if they only knew it. Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows : He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son of a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class which Goldsmith has described so freshly in the " Deserted Village," and was highly thought of for his labors among the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designed his son Mayne for the ministry, in the hope, no doubt, that he would be his successor. But nature had some- thing to say about that, as well as his good father. He bfcgan to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 1 * M6i 183 he was &v%vm in another direction. Always a great reader, Lis t'a^oiite woks were descriptions of travel in foreign >ands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, the people, and the resources of America. The spell which these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love ei adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the shores of the Old World for the New. Following the spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was probably a more promising field for a young man of his talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged in business. The nature of this business is not stated, further than it was that of a trader ; but whatever it was it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into the interior of the country, which was almost a terra in- cognita. Sparsely settled, where settled at all, it was still clothed in primeval verdure — here in the endless reach of savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far away to the North and the West in those monotonous ocean-like levels of land for which the speech of England has no name — the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whose hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was', hunters and trappers, who had turned their backs upon civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of doubtful or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con- venient to leave their country for their country's good ; and scattered about hardy pioneer communities from East- ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration which is still drawing the course of empire westward. Travelling in a country like this, and among people like these, Mayne Reid passed five years of his early manhood. He was at home wherever he went, and never more so than when among the Indians of the Red River territory, with whom he spent several months, learning their lan- guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted with them, and night after night sat by their blazing eamp-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves and the quaint legends of the medicine men. There was that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead this life at 'his time, and whether he knew it or not i& 2 I educated his genius as no other life could have done. It familiarized him with a large extent of country in the South and West ; it introduced him to men and manners which existed nowhere else ; and it revealed to him the secrets of Indian life and character. There was another side, however, to Mayne Reid than that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of fivw years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We find him next in Philadelphia, where he began to con- tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm- hearted, he made many friends there among journalists and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote with loving tenderness. The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not what one would expect from a man of letters, though it Ivas just what might have been expected from a man of his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army with which the United States speedily crushed the forces of the sister Republic— Mexico. He obtained a commis- sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- pultepec — a terrible battle which practically ended the war. A second episode of a similar character, but with a more fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on t our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun- * garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen- dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, and fired the 'heart of Captain Mayne Reid, who buckled on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with a body of volunteers to aid the Hungarians in their struggles for independence. They were too late, for hardly had they reached Paris before they learned that all was over'. &6rgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary waa irushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reitf betook himself to London. 3 The life of the Mayne Keid in whom we ar» re«jzd sprung up from the west, which aided their progress in the direction in which they wished to go. One would nave thought that this was just what they should have desired. On the contrary, the sailor appeared uneasy on perceiving that the breeze blew from the west. Had it been from any other point he would have cared little about it. " I don't like it a bit," said he, speaking across the raft to nis companion. " It helps us to get east'ard, that 's true ; hut it '11 help them as well ; and with that broad spread o' canvas they've rigged up, they might come down on us master than we can row." " Could we not rig a sail too ? " inquired the boy. Don't jrou think we might, Ben ? " " Just the thing I war thinkin' o', lad ; I dare say we jan. Let me see ; we 've got that old tarpaulin and the lying jib-sail under us. The tarpaulin itself will be big mough. How about ropes ? Ah ! there 's the sheets of the jib still stickin' to the sail ; and then there 's the handspike ind our two oars. The oars '11 do without the handspike. Let 's set 'em up then, and rig the tarpaulin between 'em." As the sailor spoke, he had risen to his feet ; and after par- tially drawing the canvas off from the planks and spars, he soon accomplished the task of setting the two oars upright upon the raft. This done, the tarpaulin was spread between them, and wh^n lashed so as to lie taut from one to the other, presented a surface of several square yards to the breeze, — quite as much sail as the craft was capable of carrying. It only remained for them to look to the steering of the raft, so as to keep it head on before the wind ; and this could be managed by means of the handspike, used as a rudder or 6teering oar. Laying hold of this, and placing himself abaft of the spread tarpaulin, Ben had the satisfaction of peeing that the 12 THE OCEAN WAIFS. sail acted admirably ; and as soon as its influence was fairty felt, the raft surged on through the water at a rate of not less than five knots to the hour. It was not likely that the large raft that carried the dreaded crew of would-be cannibals was going any faster ; and therefore, whatever distance they might be off, there would be no great danger of their getting any nearer. This confidence being firmly established, the sailor no longer gave a thought to the peril from which he and his youthful comrade had escaped. For all that, the prospect that lay before them was too terrible to permit their ex- changing a word, — either of comfort or congratulation, — and for a long time they sat in a sort of desponding silence, which was broken only by the rippling surge of the waters as they swept in pearly froth along the sides of the raft. CHAPTER IV. HUNGER. — DESPAIR. THE breeze proved only what sailors call a catspaw, — rising no higher than just to cause a ripple on the water, and lasting only about an hour. When it was over, the sea again fell into a dead calm ; its surface assuming the smoothness of a mirror. In the midst of this the raft lay motionless, and the ex- temporized sail was of no use for propelling it. It served a purpose, however, in screening off the rays of the sun, which, though not many degrees above the horizon, was beginning to make itself felt in all its tropical fervor. Ben no longer required his companion to take a hand at the oar. Not but that their danger of being overtaken was HUNGER. — DESPAIR. IS as gi eat as ever ; for although they had made easterly some five or six knots, it was but natural to conclude that th'j great raft had been doing the same ; and therefore the dis tance between the two would be about as before. But whether it Avas that his energy had become prostrated by fatigue and the hopelessness of their situation, or whether upon further reflection he felt less fear of their being pursued, certain it is he no longer showed uneasiness about making way over the water ; and after once more rising to his feet and making a fresh examination of the horizon, he stretched himself along the raft in the shade of the tarpaulin. The boy, at his request, had already placed himself in a similar position, and was again buried in slumber. " I 'm glad to see he can slejsp," said Brace to himself, as he lay down alongside. " He must be sufferin' from hunger as bad as I am myself, and as long as he 's asieep he won't feel it. May be, if one could keep asleep they 'd hold out longer, though I don't know 'bout that bein' so. I 've often ate a hearty supper, and woke up in the mornin' as hungry as if I 'd gone to my bunk without a bite. Well, it an't no use o' me tryin' to sleep as I feel now, blow'd if it is ! My belly calls out loud enough to keep old Morphis himself from nappin', and there an't a morsel o' anything. More than forty hours ha'e passed since I ate that last quarter biscuit. I can think o' nothing but our shoes, and they be so soaked wi' the sea- water, I suppose they '11 do more harm than good. They '11 be sure to make the thirst a deal worse than it is, though the Lord knows it be bad enough a'ready. Merciful Father ! — nothin' to eat ! — nothin' to drink ! God, hear the prayer little Will'm ha' just spoken and I ha' repeated, though I 've been too wicked to expect bein' heard, ' gi'e wj this day our daily bread' 7 Ah ! another day or two without it, an' we shall both be asleep forever ! " The soliloquy of the despairing sailor ended in a groan, that awoke his young comrade from a slumber that was al best only transient and troubled. *4 THE OCEAN WAIFS. " What is it, Ben ? " he asked, raising himself on hia elbow, and looking inquiringly in the face of his protector. " Nothing partikler, my lad," answered the sailor, who did not wish to terrify his companion with the dark thought!* which were troubling himself. " I heard you groaning, — did I not ? I was afraid you had seen them coming after us." " No fear o' that, — not a bit. They 're a long way off, and in this calm sea they won't be inclined to stir, — not as long as the rum-cask holds out, I warrant ; and when that 's empty, they '11 not feel much like movin' anywhere. 'T an't for them we need have any fear now." " Ben ! I'mso hungry ; I could eat anything." " I know it, my poor lad ; so could I." " True ! indeed you must be even hungrier than I, for you gave me more than my share of the two biscuit. It was wrong of me to take it, for I 'm sure you must be suffering dreadfully." " That 's true enough, Will'm ; but a bit o' biscuit would n't a made no difference. It must come to the same thing in the end." " To what, Ben ? " inquired the lad, observing the shadow that had overspread the countenance of his companion, which was gloomier than he had ever seen it. The sailor remained silent. He could not think of a way to evade giving the correct answer to the question; and keeping his eyes averted, he made no reply. "I know what you mean," continued the interrogator. " Yes, yes, — you mean that we must die ! " "No, no, WiTl'm, — not that; there's hope yet, — who knows what may turn up ? It may be that the prayer will be answered. I 'd like, lad, if you 'd go over it again. I think I could help you better this time ; for I once knew it myself, — long, long ago, when I was about as big as you ; and hearin' you repeatin' it, it has come most o' it back into my memory. Go over it again, little Will'm." FAITH. — HOFE. 15 The youth once more knelt upon the raft, and in the shadow of the spread tarpaulin repeated the Lord's Prayer, — the sailor, in his rougher voice, pronouncing the words after him. When they had finished, the latter once more rose to his feet, and for some minutes stood scanning the circle of sea around the raft. The faint hope which that trusting reliance in his Maker had inspired within the breast of the rude mariner exhibited itself for a moment upon his countenance, but only for a moment. No object greeted his vision, save the blue, bound- less sea, and the equally boundless sky. A despairing look replaced that transient gleam of hope, and, staggering back behind the tarpaulin, he once more flung his body prostrate upon the raft. Again they lay, side by side, in perfect silence, — neither of them asleep, but both in a sort of stupor, produced by their unspoken despair. CHAPTER V. FAITH. HOPE. HOW long they lay in this half-unconscious condition, neither took note. It could not have been many minutes, for the mind under such circumstances does not long surrender itself to a state of tranquillity. They were at length suddenly roused from it, — not, how- ever, by any thought from within, — but by an object striking on their external senses, or, rather, upon the sense of sight Both were lying upon their backs, with eyes open and up turned to the sky, upon which there was not a speck of cloud to vary the monotony of its endless azure. 16 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Its monotony, however, was at that moment varied by a number of objects that passed swiftly across their field of vision, shining and scintillating as if a flight of silver arrows had been shot over the raft. The hues of blue and white were conspicuous in the bright sunbeams, and those gay- colored creatures, that appeared to belong to the air, but which in reality were denizens of the great deep, were at onoc recognized by the sailor. ft A shoal o' flyin'-fish," he simply remarked, and without removing from his recumbent position. Then at once, as if some hope had sprung up within him at seeing them continue to fly over the raft, and so near as almost to touch the tarpaulin, he added, starting to his feet as he spoke, — " What if I might knock one o' 'em down ! Where 's the handspike ? " The last interrogatory was mechanical, and put merely to fill up the time ; for as he gave utterance to it he reached towards the implement that lay within reach of his hands, and eagerly grasping raised it aloft. With such a weapon it was probable that he might have succeeded in striking down one of the winged swimmers that, pursued by the bonitos and albacores, were still leaping over the raft. But there was a surer weapon behind him, — in the piece of canvas spread between the upright oars ; and just as the sailor had got ready to wield his huge club, a shining object flashed close to his eyes, whilst his ears were greeted by a glad sound, signifying that one of the vaulting fish had struck against the tarpaulin. Of course it had dropped down upon the raft : fcr there it was flopping and bounding about among the folds of the flying-jib, far more taken by surprise than Ben Brace, who had witnessed its mishap, or even little William, upon whose face it had fallen, with all the weight of its watery carcass. r f a bird in the hand be worth two in the bush, by the same FAITH. — HOPE. 17 rule a fish in the hand should be worth two in the water, and more than that number flying in the air. Some such calculation as this might have passed through the brain of Ben Brace ; for, instead of continuing to hold his handspike high flourished over his head, in the hope of striking another fish, he suffered the implement to drop down upon the raft; and stooping down, he reached forward to secure the one that had voluntarily, or, rather, should we say, involuntarily, offered itself as a victim. As it kept leaping about over the raft, there was just the danger that it might reach the edge of that limited area, and once more escape to its natural element. This, however naturally desired by the fish, was the object which the occupants of the raft most desired to prevent ; and to that end both had got upon their knees, and were scram- bling over the sailcloth with as much eager earnestness as a couple of terriers engaged in a scuffle with a harvest rat. Once or twice little William had succeeded in getting the fish in his fingers ; but the slippery creature, armed also with its spinous fin-wings, had managed each time to glide out of his grasp ; and it was still uncertain whether a capture might be made, or whether after all they were only to be tantalized by the touch and sight of a morsel of food that was never to pass over their palates. The thought of such a disappointment stimulated Ben Brace to put forth all his energies, coupled with his greatest activity. He had even resolved upon following the fish into the sea if it should prove necessary, — knowing that for the first few moments after regaining its natural element it would be more easy of capture. But just then an oppor- tunity was offered that promised the securing of the prey without the necessity of wetting a stitch of his clothes. The fish had been all the while bounding about upon the spread sail-cloth, near the edge of which it had now arrived. But it was fated to go no farther, at least of its own accord j 9 18 THE OCEAN WAIFS. for Ben seeing hi; advantage, seized hold of the loose selvage of the sail, and raising it a little from the raft, doubled it over the struggling captive. A stiff squeeze brought it? struggles to a termination ; and when the canvas was lifted aloft, it was seen lying underneath, slightly flattened out beyond its natural dimensions, and it is scarcely necessary to say as dead as a herring. Whether right or no, the simple-minded seaman recognized in this seasonable supply of provision the hand of an over- ruling Providence ; and without further question, attributed it to the potency of that prayer twice repeated. " Yes, Will'm, you see it, my lad, 't is the tuf-ywa to that wonderful prayer. Let 's go over it once more, by way o' givin' thanks. He who has sent meat can also gie us drink, even here, in the middle o' the briny ocean. Come, boy ! as the parson used to say in church, — let us pray ! " And with this serio-comic admonition — meant, however, in all due solemnity — the sailor dropped upon Ms knees, and, as before, echoed the prayer once more pronounced by his youthful companion. CHAPTER VI. FLYING-FISH. fflHE flying-fish takes rank as one of the most conspicuous 1 u wonders of the sea," and in a tale essentially devoted to the great deep, it is a subject deserving of more than a passing notice. From the earliest periods of ocean travel, men have looked w" h astonishment upon a phenomenon not only singular al '"rst sight, but which still remains unexplained, namely, a fist FIAING-FISH. 9 and a creature believed to be formed only for dwelling un« der water, springing suddenly above the surface, to the height of a two-story house, and passing through the air to the dis« tanse of a furlong, before falling back into its own proper element ! It is no wonder that the sight should cause surprise to the most indifferent observer, nor that it should have been long a theme of speculation with the curious, and an interesting subject of investigation to the naturalist. As flying-fish but rarely make their appearance except in warm latitudes, few people who have not voyaged to the tropics have had an opportunity of seeing them in their flight. Very naturally, therefore, it will be asked what kind of fish that is, to what species and what genus the flying-fish be- long. Were there only one kind of these curious creatures the answer would be easier. But not only are there differ- ent species, but also different " genera " of fish endowed with the faculty of flying, and which from the earliest times and in different parts of the world have equally received this characteristic appellation. A word or two about each sort must suffice. First, then, there are two species belonging to the genus Trigla, or the Gurnards, to which M. Lacepede has given the name of Dactylopterus. One species is found in the Mediterranean, and individu- als, from a foot to fifteen inches in length, are often taken by the fishermen, and brought to the markets of Malta, Sicily, and even to the city of Rome. The other species of flying gurnard occur in the Indian Ocean and the seas around China and Japan. The true flying-fish, however, that is to say, those that are met with in the great ocean, and most spoken of in books, and in the " yarns " of the sailor, are altogether of a different kind from the gurnards. They are not only different in frenus, but in the family and even the order of fishes They 20 THE OCEAN WAIFS. are of the genus Exocetus, and in form and other respect* have a considerable resemblance to the common pike. There are several species of them inhabiting different parts of the tropical seas ; and sometimes individuals, in the s ammer, have been seen as far north as the coast of Cornwall in Eu- rope, and on the banks of Newfoundland in America. Their natural habitat, however, is in the warm latitudes of the ocean ; and only there are they met with in large " schools," and seen with any frequency taking their aerial flight. For a long time there was supposed to be only one, or at most two, species of the Exocetus ; but it is now certain there are several — perhaps as many as half a dozen — distinct from each other. They are all much alike in their habits, — differing only in size, color, and such like circumstances. Naturalists disagree as to the character of their flight. Some assert that it is only a leap, and this is the prevailing opinion. Their reason for regarding it thus is, that while the fish is in the air there cannot be observed any movement of the wings (pectoral fins) ; and, moreover, after reaching the height to which it attains on its first spring, it cannot afterwards rise higher, but gradually sinks lower till it dropa suddenly back into the water. This reasoning is neither clear nor conclusive. A similar power of suspending themselves in the air, without motion of the wings is well known to belong to many birds, — as the vulture, the albatross, the petrels, and others. Besides, it is difficult to conceive of a leap twenty feet high and two hun- dred yards long ; for the flight of the Exocetus has been observed to be carried to this extent, and even farther It is probable that the movement partakes both of the nature of leaping and flying : that it is first begun by a spring up out of the water, — a power possessed by most other kinds offish, — and that the impulse thus obtained is continued by the spread fins acting on the air after the fashion of para- chutes. It is known that the fish can greatly lighten the FLYING-FISH. 21 specific gravity of its body by the inflation of its " swim- bladder," which, when perfectly extended, occupies nearly the entire cavity of its abdomen. In addition to this, there is a membrane in the mouth which can be inflated through the gills. These two reservoirs are capable of containing a considerable volume of air ; and as the fish has the power of filling or emptying them at will, they no doubt play an important part in the mechanism of its aerial movement. One thing is certain, that the flying-fish can turn while in the air, — that is, diverge slightly from the direction first taken ; and this would seem to argue a capacity something more than that of a mere spring or leap. Besides, the wings make a perceptible noise, — a sort of rustling, — often dis- tinctly heard ; and they have been seen to open and close while the creature is in the air. A shoal of flying-fish might easily be mistaken for a flock of white birds, though their rapid movements, and the glis- tening sheen of their scales — especially when the sun is shining — usually disclose their true character. They are at all times a favorite spectacle, and with all observers, — the old " salt " who has seen them a thousand times, and the young sailor on his maiden voyage, who beholds them for the first time in his life. Many an hour of ennui occurring to the ship-traveller, as he sits upon the poop, restlessly scan- ning the monotonous surface of the sea, has been brought to a cheerful termination by the appearance of a shoal of flying- fish suddenly sparkling up out of the bosom of the deep. The flying-fish appear to be the most persecuted of all creatures. It is to avoid their enemies under water that they take fin and mount into the air ; but the old proverb, " out of tl e frying-pan into the fire," is but too applicable in their case, for in their endeavors to escape from the jaws of dolphins, albicores, bonitos, and other petty tyrants of the Bea, they rush into the beaks of gannets, boobies, albatrosses, and other petty tyrants of the sky. 22 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Much sympathy has been felt — or at all events expressed — for these pretty and apparently innocent little victims. But, alas ! our sympathy receives a sad shock, when it be- comes known that the flying-fish is himself one of the petty lyrants of the ocean, — being, like his near congener, the pike a most ruthless little destroyer and devourer of any fish small pnough to go down his gullet. Besides the two genera of flying-fish above described, there are certain other marine animals which are gifted with a sim- ilar power of sustaining themselves for some seconds in the air. They are often seen in the Pacific and Indian oceans, rising out of the water in shoals, just like the Exoceti : and, like them, endeavoring to escape from the albicores and bo- nitos that incessantly pursue them. These creatures are not fish in the true sense of the word, but " mollusks," of the genus Loligo ; and the name given to them by the whalers of the Pacific is that of " Flying Squid." CHAPTER VII. A CHEERING CLOUD. THE particular species of flying-fish that had fallen into the clutches of the two starving castaways upon the raft was the Exocetus evola?is, or u Spanish flying-fish " of mariners, — a well-known inhabitant of the warmer latitudes ->f the ^Atlantic. Its body was of a steel-Wue, olive and sil- very white underneath, with its large pectoral fins (its wings) of a powdered gray color. It was one of the largest of its kind, being rather over twelve inches in length, and nearly a pound in weight. Of course, it afforded but a very slight meal for two hungry A CHEERING CLOUD. 23 stamachs, — ;^uch as were those of Ben Brace and his boy companion. Still it helped to strengthen them a little ; and its opportune arrival upon the raft — which they could not heip regarding as providential — had the further effect ot rendering them for a time more cheerful, hopeful. It is not necessary to say that they ate the creature with- out cooking it ; and although under ordinary circumstances this might be regarded as a hardship, neither was at that moment in the mood to be squeamish. They thought the dish dainty enough. It was its quantity — not the quality — that failed to give satisfaction. Indeed the flying-fish is (when cooked, of course) one of the most delicious of morsels, — a good deai resembling the common herring when caught freshly, and dressed in a proper manner. It seemed, however, as if the partial relief from hunger only aggravated the kindred appetite from which the occu- pants of the raft had already begun to suffer. Perhaps the salt-water, mingled with the saline juices of the fish, aided in producing this effect. In any case, it was not long after they had eaten the Exocetus before both felt thirst in its very keenest agony. Extreme thirst, under any circumstances, is painful to endure ; but under no conditions is it so excruciating as in the midst of the ocean. The sight of water which you may not drink, — the very proximity of that element, — so near that you may touch it, and yet as useless to the assuaging of thirst as if it was the parched dust of the desert, — increases rather than alleviates the appetite. It is to no purpose, that you dip your fingers into the briny flood, and endeavor to cool your lips and tongue by taking it into the mouth. To swallow it is still worse. You might as well think to allay ihirst by drinking liquid fire. The momentary moistening of the mouth and tongue is succeeded by an almost instanta- neous parching of the salivary glands, which only glow with redoubled ardor. 24 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Ben Brace knev this well enough ; and once or twice that little William lifted the sea-water on his palm and applied it to his lips, the sailor cautioned him to desist, saying that it would do him more harm than good. In one of his pockets Ben chanced to have a leaden bullet, which he gave the boy, telling him to keep it in his mouth and occasionally to chew it. By this means the secretion of the saliva was promoted ; and although it was but slight, the sufferer obtained a little relief. Ben himself held the axe to his lips, and partly by pressing his tongue against the iron, and partly by gnawing the angle of the blade, endeavored to produce the same effect. It was but a poor means of assuaging that fearful thirst that was now the sole object of their thoughts, — it might be said their only sensation, — for all other feelings, both of pleasure or pain, had become overpowered by this one. On food they no longer reflected, though still hungry ; but the appetite of hunger, even when keenest, is far less painful than that of thirst. The former weakens the frame, so that the nervous system becomes dulled, and less sensible of the affliction it is enduring ; whereas the latter may exist to its extremest degree, while the body is in full strength and vigor, and therefore more capable of feeling pain. They suffered for several hours, almost all the time in silence. The words of cheer which the sailor had addressed to his youthful comrade were now only heard occasionally, and at long intervals, and when heard were spoken in a tone that proclaimed their utterance to be merely mechanical, and that he who gave tongue to them had but slight hope. Little as lemained, however, he would rise from time to time to his feet, and stand for a while scanning the horizon around him. Then as his scrutiny once more terminated in disap- pointment, he would sink back upon the canvas, and half- kneeling, half-lying, give way for an interval to a half stupor of despair. A CANVAS TANK. 2d From one of these moods he was suddenly aroused by cncumstance which had made no impression on his youtlifu companion, though the latter had also observed it. It was simply the darkening of the sun by a cloud passing over its disc Little William wondered that an incident of so common character should produce so marked an effect as it had done upon his protector : for the latter on perceiving that the sun had become shadowed instantly started to his feet, and stood gazing up towards the sky. A change had come over his countenance. His eyes, instead of the sombre look of despair observable but the moment before, seemed now to sparkle with hope. In fact, the cloud which had darkened the face of the sun appeared to have produced the very opposite effect upon the face of the sailor ! CHAPTER VIII. A CANVAS TANK. a TTTHAT is it, Ben?" asked William, in a voice f 7 husky and hoarse, from the parched throat through which it had to pass. " You look pleased like ; do you see anything ? " " I see that, boy," replied the sailor, pointing up into the sky. "What? I see nothing there except that great cloud that has just passed over the sun. What is there in that?" "Ay, what is there in't? That's just what I'm tiyin' to make out, Will'm ; an' if I 'm not mistaken, boy, there '* in 't the very thing as we bo'.h wants." 26 THE OCEAN WAIFS. "Water!" gasped William, his eyes lighting up with a gleam of hope. " A rain-cloud you think, Ben?" " I 'm a'most sure o't, Will'm. I never seed a bank o' clcids like them there wasn't some wet in; and if the wind '11 only drift 'em this way, we may get a shower '11 be the 6&?in' o' our lives. O Lord ! in thy mercy look down on us, aid send 'em over us ! " The boy echoed the prayer. " See ! " cried the sailor. " The wind is a fetchin' them this way. Yonder 's more o' the same sort risin' up in the west, an' that 's the direction from which it 's a blowin'. Ho ! As I live, Will'm, there 's rain. I can see by the mist it 's a fallin' on the water yonder. It 's still far away, — twenty mile or so, — but that 's nothing ; an' if the wind holds good in the same quarter, it must come this way." " But if it did, Ben," said William, doubtingly, " what good would it do us ? We could not drink much of the rain as it falls, and you know we have nothing in which to catch a drop of it." " But we have, boy, — we have our clothes and our shirts. If the rain comes, it will fall like it always does in these parts, as if it were spillin' out o' a strainer. We '11 be soakin' wet in five minutes' time ; and then we can wring all out, — trousers, shirts, and every rag we 've got." " But we have no vessel, Ben, — what could we wring the wuter into ? " u Into our mouths first : after that — ah ! it be a pity. I never thought o't. We won't be able to save a drop for another time. Any rate, if we could only get one good quenchin', we might stand it several days longer. I fancy we might catch some fish, if we were only sure about the water. Yes, the rain's a comin' on. Look at yon black clouds ; and see, there 's lightning forkin' among 'em. That 's a sure sign it's raining. Let's strip, and spread out out shirts so as to have them ready." A CANVAS TANK. 5 / As Ben uttered this admonition Le was about proeeedit < to pull olF his pea-jacket, when an object came before ks eyes causing him to desist. At the same instant an ex- clamatory phrase escaping from his lips explained to his companion why he had thus suddenly changed his intejtioii. The phrase consisted of two simple words, which written m pronounced by Ben were, " Thee tarpolin." Little William knew it was "the tarpauling" that vaa meant. He could not be mistaken about that ; for, even had he been ignorant of the sailor's pronunciation of the words, the latter at that moment stood pointing to the piece of tarred canvas spread upright between the oars; and which had formerly served as a covering for the after-hatch of the Pandora. William did not equally understand why his companion was pointing to it. He was not left long in ignorance. " Nothing to catch the water in ? That 's what you sayed, little Will'm ? What do ye call that, my boy ? " " Oh ! " replied the lad, catching at the idea of the sailor. u You mean — " " I mean, boy, that there 's a vessel big enough to hold gallons, — a dozen o' 'em." " You think it would hold water ? " " I'm sure o't, lad. For what else be it made waterproof? I helped tar it myself not a week ago. It '11 hold like a rum- cask, I warrant, — ay, an' it'll be the very thing to catch it too. We can keep it spiead out a bit \vi' a hollow place in the middle, an' if it do rain, there then, — my boy, we '11 ha' a pool big enough to swim ye in. Hurrah ! it's sure to rain. See yonder. It be comin' nearer every minute. Let 's be ready for it. Down wi' the mainsail. Let go the sheets, -~ an' instead o' spreadin' our canvas to the wind, as the song says, we'll stretch it out to the rain. Come, Will'm, let's look alive ! " William had by this time also risen to his feet ; and both 28 THE OCEAN WAIFS. now busied themselves in unlashing the cords that had kept the hatch-covering spread between the two oars. This occupied only a few seconds of time ; and the tar pauling soon lay detached between the extemporized masts, that were still permitted to remain as they had been " stepped." At first the sailor had thought of holding the piece of tarred canvas in their hands ; but having plenty of time to reflect, a better plan suggested itself. So long as it should be thus held, they would have no chance of using their hands for any other purpose ; and would be in a dilemma as to how they should dispose of the water after having " captured it." It did not require much ingenuity to alter their programme for the better. By means of the flying-jib that lay along the raft, they were enabled to construct a ridge of an irreg- ular circular shape; and then placing the tarpauling upon the top, and spreading it out so that its edges lapped over this ridge, they formed a deep concavity or "tank" in the middle, which was capable of holding many gallons of water. It only remained to examine the canvas, and make sure there were no rents or holes by which the water might escape. This was done with all the minuteness and care that the circumstances called for ; and when the sailor at length be- came satisfied that the tarpauling was waterproof, he took the hand of his youthful protege in his own, and both kneel- ing upon the raft, with their faces turned towards the west, watched the approach of those dark, lowering clouds, as if they had been bright-winged angek sent from the far sky k> deliver them from destruction. A PLEASANT SHOWER-BATH. 2* CHAPTER IX. A PLEASANT SHOWER-BATH. THEY had not much longer to wait. The storm came striding across the ocean ; and, to the intense gratifica- tion of both man and boy, the rain was soon falling upop them, as if a water-spout had burst over their heads. A single minute sufficed to collect over a quart within the hollow of the spread tarpauling ; and before that minute had transpired, both might have been seen lying prostrate upon their faces with their heads together, near the centre of th« concavity, and their lips close to the canvas, sucking up the delicious drops, almost as fast as they fell. For a long time they continued in this position, indulging in that cool beverage sent them from the sky, — which to both appeared the sweetest they had ever tasted in their lives. So engrossed were they in its enjoyment, that neither spoke a word until several minutes had elapsed, and both had drunk to a surfeit. They were by this time wet to the skin ; for the tropic rain, falling in a deluge of thick heavy drops, soon saturated their garments through and through. But this, instead of being an inconvenience, was rather agreeable than other- wise, cooling their skins so long parched by the torrid rays of the sun. " Little Will'm," said Ben, after swallowing about a gallon of the rain-water, " did n't I say that He as sent us meat, in such good time too, could also gi' us som'at to drink ? Look there ! water enow to last us for days, lad ! " " 'T is wonderful ! " exclaimed the boy. " I am sure, Ben, that Providence has done this. Indeed, it must be true what I was often told in the Sunday school, — that God is every- where. Here He is present with us in the midst of t3W* 80 THE OCEAN WAIFS. great ocean. 0, dear Ben, let 's hope He will not forsake us now. I almost feel sure, after what has happened to ua that the hand of God will yet deliver us from our danger." "I almost teel so myeelf," rejoined the sailor, his coun tenance resuming its wonted expression of cheerfulness "After what's happened, one could not think otherwise but let us remember, lad, that He is up aloft, an' has done so much for us, expecting us to do what we can for ourselves. He puts the work within our reach, an' then leaves us to dc it. Now here 's this fine supply o' water. If we was to let that go to loss, it would be our own fault, not his, an' we 'd deserve to die o' thirst for it." " What is to be done, Ben ? How are we to keep it ? " "That's just what I'm thinkin' about. In a very short while the rain will be over. I know the sort o' it. It be only one o' these heavy showers as falls near the line, and won't last more than half an hour, — if that. Then the sun '11 be out as hot as ever, an' will lick up the water most as fast as it fell, — that is, if we let it lie there. Yes, in another half o' an hour that tarpolin would be as dry as the down upon a booby's back." " O dear ! what shall we do to prevent evaporating ? " " Jest give me a minute to consider," rejoined the sailor, scratching his head, and putting on an air of profound reflec- tion ; "maybe afore the rain quits comin' down, I'll think o' borne way to keep it from ewaporating ; that 's what you call the dryin' o' it up." Ben remained for some minutes silent, in the thoughtful attitude he had assumed, — while William, who was equally interested in the result of his cogitations, watched his counte- nance with an eager anxiety. Soon a joyful expression revealed itself to the glance of the boy, telling him that his companion had hit upon some promising scheme. "I think I ha' got it, Will'm," said he; "I think IVe found a way to stow the water even without a cask." A PLEASANT SHOWER-BATH. 31 * Yuu have ! " joyfully exclaimed William. " How, Ben ?" " Well, you see, boy, the tarpolin holds water as tight as if 'twere a glass bottle. I tarred it myself, — that did I, an' as I never did my work lubber-like, I done that job well. Luck^ I did, war n't it, William ? " " It was." " That be a lesson for you, lad. Schemin' work bean't the thing, you see. It comes back to cuss one ; while work as be well did be often like a blessin' arterward, — just as this tarpolin be now. But see ! as I told you, the rain would soon be over. There be the sun again, hot an' fiery as ever. There ain't no time to waste. Take a big drink, afore I put the stopper into the bottle." William, without exactly comprehending what his com- panion meant by the last words, obeyed the injunction ; and stretching forward over the rim of the improvised tank, once more placed his lips to the water, and drank copiously. Ben did the same for himself, passing several pints of the fluid into his capacious stomach. Then rising to his feet with a satisfied air, and directing his protege to do the same, he set about the stowage of the water. William was first instructed as to the intended plan, so that he might be able to render prompt and efficient aid ; for it would require both of them, and with all their hands, to carry it out. The sailor's scheme was sufficiently ingenious. I-t con- sisted in taking up first the corners of the tarpauling, then the edges all around, and bringing them together in the centre. This had to be done with great care, so as not to jumble the volatile fluid contained within the canvas, and spill it over the selvage. Some did escape, but only a very little ; and they at length succeeded in getting the tarpauling formed into a sort of bag, puckered around the mouth. While Ben with both arms held the gathers firm and fast, William passed a loop of strong cord, that had already be«u 82 THE OCEAN WAIFS. the neck of the bag. clzse under Bei other end round one of the upright oars, he pulled upon the cord with all his might. If soon tightened suffic free -jse of his ha:. ie crumpled canvas, and after a turn or two to render if more secure, the cord was made I The tarpauling now rested upon the ran. a distended mass, like the - -- animal coated with tar. It -.rough -. to keep the top w rmost; and this was effected by taking a turn or twe the rope round the upmost end of one of the : had serv -. and there making a knot. By this means the great -ucb a position that, althou contents might ■■ about at their pleasure, nor a drop could escape out either at the neck or eh Altogether they had secured water, not less than a dozen gallons, which Ben had succeeded in stowing to hi; ; a:isfaction. CHAPTER X THE PILOT-FISH. THIS opportune deliverance from the most fearful of deaths had inspired the sailor with a hope that they might still, by some further inte of Providence, escai 3 from their perilous position. Relying on this hope, he resolved I no means nntri aij'nt promise tc lead to it- They were ox shed with a stock of water which. THE PILOT-FISH. 33 if careful! y hoarded, would last them for weeks. If they could only obtain a proportionate supply of food, there would still be a chance of their sustaining life until some ship might make its appearance, — for, of course, they thought not of any other means of deliverance. To think of food was to think of fishing for it. In the vast reservoir of the ocean under and around them there was no lack of nourishing food, if they could only grasp it ; but the sailor well knew that the shy, slippery denizens of the deep are not to be captured at will, and that, with all the poor schemes they might be enabled to contrive, their efforts to capture even a single fish might be exerted in vain. Still they could try ; and with that feeling of hopeful com fidence which usually precedes such trials, they set about making preparations. The first thing was to make hooks and lines. There chanced to be some pins in their clothing ; and with these Ben soon constructed a tolerable set of hooks. A line was obtained by untwisting a piece of rope, and respinning it to the proper thickness ; and then a float was found by cutting a piece of wood to the proper dimensions. And for a sinker there was the leaden bullet with which little William had of late so vainly endeavored to allay the pangs of thirst. The bones and fins of the flying-fish — the only part of it not eaten — would serve for bait. They did not promise to make a very attractive one ; for there was not a morsel of flesh left upon them ; but Ben knew that there are many kinds of fish inhabiting the great ocean that will seize ar any sort of bait, — even a piece of rag, — without considering whether it be good for them or not. They had seen fish several times near the raft, during that very day; but suffering as they were from thirst more than hunger, and despairing of relief to the more painful appetite, they had made no attempt to capture them- Now, however, they were determined to set about it in earnest, 2* g 34 THE OCEAN WAIFS. The rain had ceased falling, the breeze no longer disturbed the surface of the sea. The clouds had passed over the canopy of the heavens, — the sky was clear, and the sub bright and hot as before. Ben standing erect upon the raft, with the baited hook in his hand, looked down into the deep blue water. Even the smallest fish could have been seen many fathoms below the surface, and far ever the ocean. William on the other side of the raft was armed with hook and line, and equally on the alert. For a long time their vigil was unrewarded. No living thing came within view. Nothing was under their eyes save the boundless field of ultramarine, — beautiful, but to them, at that moment, marked only by a miserable monotony. They had stood thus for a full hour, when an exclamation escaping from the lad, caused his companion to turn and look to the other side of the raft. A fish was in sight. It was that which had drawn the exclamation from the boy, who was now swinging his line in the act of casting it out. The ejaculation had been one of joy. It was checked on his perceiving that the sailor did not share it. On the con- trary, a cloud came over the countenance of the latter on perceiving the fish, — whose species he at once recognized. And why ? for it was one of the most beautiful of the finny tribe. A little creature of perfect form, — of a bright azure blue, with transverse bands of deeper tint, forming rings around its body. Why did Ben Brace show disap- pointment at its appearance ? " You need n't trouble to throw out your line, little Will'm," said he, " that ere takes no bait, — not it." " Why ? " asked the boy. " Because it 's something else to do than forage for itself [ dare say its master an't far off." "What is it?" THE PILOT-FISH. 85 ** That be the pilot-jish. See ! turns away from us. It '« gone back to him as has sent it." ^ "Sent it! Who, Ben?" "A shark, for sarten. Didn't I tell ye? Look yonder Two o' them, as I live ; and the biggest kind they be. Slash my timbers if I iver see such a pair ! They have fins like lug-sails. Look ! the pilot 's gone to guide 'em. Hang me if they bean't a comin' this way ! " William had looked in the direction pointed out by his companion. He saw the two great dorsal fins standing sev- eral feet above the water. He knew them to be those of the white shark : for he had already seen these dreaded monsters of the deep on more than one occasion. It was true, as Ben had hurriedly declared. The little p Jot-fish, after coming within twenty fathoms of the raft, had turned suddenly in the water, and gone back to the sharks ; and now it was seen swimming a few feet in advance of them, as if in the act of leading them on ! The boy was struck with something in the tone of his companion's voice, that led him to believe there was danger in the proximity of these ugly creatures ; and to say the truth, Ben did not behold them without a certain feeling of alarm. On the deck of a ship they might have been regarded without any fear ; but upon a frail structure like that which supported the castaways — their feet almost on a level with the surface of the water — it was not so very improbable that the sharks might attack them ! In his experience the sailor had known cases of a similar kind. It was no matter of surprise, that he should leel uneasiness at their approach, if not actual fear. But there was no time left either for him to speculate as to the probabilities of such an attack, or for his companion to question him about them. Scarcely had the last words parted from his lips, when the foremost of the two sharks was seen to lush the water with 36 THE OCEAN WAIFS. its broad forked tail, — and then coming on with a rush, id struck the raft with such a force as almost to capsize it. The other shark shot forward in a similar manner ; but glancing a little to one side, caught in its huge mouth the end of the dolphin-striker, grinding off a large piece of the spar as if it had been cork-wood ! This it swallowed almost instantaneously ; and then turn- ing once more in the water appeared intent upon renewing the attack. Ben and the boy had dropped their hooks and lines, — the former instinctively arming himself with the axe, while the latter seized upon the spare handspike. Both stood ready to receive the second charge of the enemy. It was made almost on the instant. The shark that had j ist attacked was the first to return ; and coming on with the velocity of an arrow, it sprang clear above the surface, projecting its hideous jaws over the edge of the raft. For a moment the frail structure was in danger of being either capsized or swamped altogether, and then the fate of its occupants would undoubtedly have been to become " food for sharks." But it was not the intention of Ben Brace or his youthful comrade to yield up their lives without striking a blow in self-defence, and that given by the sailor at once disembar- rassed him of his antagonist. Throwing one arm around a mast, in order to steady him- self, and raising the light axe in the other, he struck outward and downward with all his might. The blade of the axe, guided with an unswerving arm, fell right upon the snout of the shark, just midway between its nostrils, cleaving the car- tilaginous flesh to the depth of several inches, and laying it open to the bones. There could not have been chosen a more vital part upon which to inflict a wound ; for, huge as is the white shark, and strong and vigorous as are all animals of this ferocious THE PILOT-FISH. 87 family, a single blow upon the nose with a handspike or even a billet of wood, if laid on with a heavy hand, will suffice to put an end to their predatory courses. And so was it with the shark struck by the axe of Ben Brace. As soon as the blow had been administered, the creature rolled over on its back ; and after a fluke or two with its great forked tail, and a tremulous shivering through its body, it lay floating upon the water motionless as a log of wood. William was not so fortunate with his antagonist, though he had succeeded in keeping it off. Striking wildly out with the handspike in a horizontal direction, he had poked the butt end of the implement right between the jaws of the monster, just as it raised its head over the raft with the mouth wide open. The shark, seizing the handspike in its treble row of teeth, with one shake of its head whipped it out of the boy's hands : and then rushing on through the water, was seen grinding the timber into small fragments, and swallowing it as if it had been so many crumbs of bread or pieces of meat. In a few seconds not a bit of the handspike could be seen, — save some trifling fragments of the fibrous wood that floated on the surface of the water; but what gave greater gratification to those who saw them, was the fact that the shark which had thus made " mince-meat " of the piece of timber was itself no longer to be seen. Whether because it had satisfied the cravings of its appe tite by that wooden banquet, or whether it had taken the alarm at witnessing the fate of its companion, — by much the larger of the two, — was a question of slight importance either to Ben Brace or to William. For whatever reason, and under any circumstances, they were but too well pleased to be disembarrassed of its hideous presence ; and as they came to the conclusion that it had gone off for good, and >aw the other one lying with its white belly turned upwards upon fhg 58 THE OCEAN WAIFS. surface of the water — evidently dead as a herring — they could no longer restrain their voices, but simultaneously raised them in a shout of victory. CHAPTER XI. A LENTEN DINNER. fin HE shark struck upon the snout, though killed by th« I blow, continued to float near the surface of the water its fins still in motion as if in the act of swimming. One unacquainted with the habits of these sea-monsters might have supposed that it still lived, and might yet contrive to escape. Not so the sailor, Ben Brace. Many score of its kind had Ben coaxed to take a bait, and afterwards helped to haul over the gangway of a ship and cut to pieces upon the deck ; and Ben knew as much about the habits of these voracious creatures as any sailor that ever crossed the wide ocean, and much more than any naturalist that never did. He had seen a shark drawn aboard with a great steel hook in its stomach, — he had seen its belly ripped up with a jack-knife, the whole of the intestines taken out, then once more thrown into the sea; and after all this rough handling he had seen the animal not only move its fins, but actually swim off some distance from the ship ! He knew, moreover, that a shark may be cut in twain, — have the head separated from the body, — and still exhibit signs of vitality in both parts for many hours after the dismemberment ! Talk of the killing of a cat or an eel ! — a shark will stand as much killing as twenty cats or a bushel of eels, and still exhibit symptoms of life. The shark's most vulnerable part appears to be the snout, —just where the sailor had chosen to make his hit ; and a A LENTEN DINNER. 8S blow delivered there with an axe, or even a handspike, usually puts a termination to the career of this rapacious tyrant of the great deep. " I 've knocked him into the middle o' next week," cried Ben, exultingly, as he saw the shark heel over on its side. * It ain't goin' to trouble us any more. Where 's the other'n?" " Gons out that way," answered the boy, pointing in the direction taken by the second and smaller of the two sharks. u He whipped the handspike out of my hands, and he's craunched it to fragments. See ! there are some of the pieces floating on the water ! " " Lucky you let go, lad ; else he might ha' pulled you from the raft. I don't think he '11 come back again after the reception we 've gi'ed 'em. As for the other, it 's gone out o' its senses. Dash my buttons, if 'taint goin' to sink ! Ha! I must hinder that. Quick, Will'm, shy me that piecr o' sennit : we must secure him 'fore he gives clean up and goes to the bottom. Talk o' catching fish wi' hook an' line ! Aha ! This beats all your small fry. If we can secure it, we'll have fish enough to last us through the longest Lent. There now ! keep on the other edge of the craft so as to balance me. So-so ! " While the sailor was giving these directions, he was busy with both hands in forming a running-noose on one end of the sennit-cord, which William on the instant had handed over to him. It was but the work of a moment to make the noose ; another to let it down into the water ; a third to pass it over the upper jaw of the shark ; a fourth to draw it taut, and tighten the cord around the creature's teeth. The next thing done was to secure the other end of the sennit to the upright oar; and the carcass of the shark was thus kepf afloat near the surface of the water. To guard against a possible chance of the creature's recov- ery, Ben once more laid hold of the axe ; and, leaning ovel 40 THE OCEA^ WAIFS. the edge of the raft, administered a series of smart blows upon its snout. He continued hacking away, until the upper jaw of the fish exhibited the appearance of a butcher's chop- ping-block ; and there was no longer any doubt of the crea- ture being as "dead as a herring." u Now, Will'm," said the shark-killer, " this time we Ve got a fish that '11 gi'e us a fill, lad. Have a little patience, and 1 '11 cut ye a steak from the tenderest part o' his body ; and that's just forrard o' the tail. You take hold o' the sinnet, an' pull him up a bit, — so as I can get at him." The boy did as directed; and Ben, once more bending over the edge of the raft, caught hold of one of the caudal fins, and with his knife detached a large flake from the flank of the fish, — enough to make an ample meal for both of them. It is superfluous to say that, like the little flying-fish, the shark-meat had to be eaten raw; but to men upon the verge of starvation there is no inconvenience in this. Indeed, there are many tribes of South-Sea Islanders — not such savage* either — who habitually eat the flesh of the shark — both tht blue and white species — without thinking it necessary even to warm it over a fire ! Neither did the castaway English sailor nor his young comrade think it necessary. Even had a fire been possible, they were too hungry to have stayed for the process of cooking ; and both, without more ado, dined upon raw shark-meat. When they had succeeded in satisfying the cravings of hunger, and once more refreshed themselves with a draught from their extemporized water-bag, the castaways not only felt a relief from actual suffering, but a sort of cheerful con- fidence in the future. This arose from a conviction on their part, or at all events a strong impression, that the hand of Providence had been stretched out to their assistance. The flying-fish, the shower, the shark may have been accidents, it « true ; but. occurring at such a time, just in the very A LENTEN DINNER. 41 crisis of their affliction, they were accidents that had the appearance of design, — design on the part of Him to whom in that solemn hour they had uplifted their voices in prayer. It was under this impression that their spirits became naturally restored ; and once more they began to take coun- sel together about the ways and means of prolonging their existence. It is true that their situation was still desperate. Should a storm spring up, — even an ordinary gale, — not only would their canvas water-cask be bilged, and its contents spilled out to mingle with the briny billow, but their frail embarkation would be in danger of going to pieces, or of being whelmed fathoms deep under the frothing waves. In a high latitude, either north or south, their chance of keeping afloat would have been slight indeed. A week, or rather only a single day, would have been as long as they could have expected that calm to continue ; and the experienced sailor knew well enough that anything in the shape of a storm would expose them to certain destruction. To console him for this un- pleasant knowledge, however, he also knew that in the ocean, where they were then afloat, storms are exceedingly rare, and that ships are often in greater danger from the very opposite state of the atmosphere, — from calms. They were in that part of the Atlantic Ocean known among the early Spanish navigators as the Horse Latitudes, — so called because the horses at that time being carried across to the New World, for want of water in the becalmed ships, died in great numbers, and being thrown overboard were often seen floating upon the surface of the sea. A prettier and more poetical name have these same Spaniards given to a portion of the same Atlantic Ocean, — which, from the gentleness of its breezes, they have styled " La Mar de las Damas" (the Ladies' Sea). Ben Brace knew that in the Horse Latitudes storms were of rare occurrence ; and hence the hopefulness with which he was now looking forward to the future. 42 THE OCEAN WAIFS. He was no longer inactive. If he believed in the special Interference of Providence, he also believed that Providence would expect him to make some exertion of himself, — sucb ie circumstances might permit and require. CHAPTER XIL FLENSING A SHARK. THE flesh of the shark, and the stock of water so singu- larly obtained and so deftly stored away, might, if properly kept and carefully used, last them for many days ; and to Jie preservation of these stores the thoughts of the sailor anj his young companion were now specially directed. For the former they could do nothing more than had been already done, — further than to cover the tarpauling that con- tained it with several folds of the spare sail-cloth, in ordei that no ray or the sun should get near it. This precaution was at once adopted. The flesh of the shark — now dead as mutton — if left to itself, would soon spoil, and be unfit for food, even for starv- ing men. It was this reflection that caused the sailor and his protege to take counsel together as to what might be done towards preserving it. They were not long in coming to a decision. Shark-flesh, li ke that of any other fish — like haddock, for instance, or red herrings — can be dried in the sun ; and the more readily in that sun of the torrid zone that shone down so hotly upon their heads. The flesh only needed to be cut into thin slices and suspended from the upright oars. The atmosphere would soon do the rest. Thus cured, it would keep for weeks of months ; and thus did the castaways determine to cure it. FLENSIN3 A SHARK. 43 No soonei was the plan conceived, than they entered upon its execution. Little William again seized the cord ot sennit, and drew the huge carcass close up to the raft ; while Ben once more opened the blade of his sailor's knife, and commenced cutting off the flesh in broad flakes, — so thin as to be almost transparent. He had succeeded in stripping off most of the titbits around the tail, and was proceeding up the body of the shark to Jlense it in a similar fashion, when an ejaculation escaped him, expressing surprise or pleasant curiosity. Little William was but too glad to perceive the pleased expression on the countenance of his companion, — of late se rarely seen. " What is it, Ben ? * he inquired, smilingly. " Look 'ee theer, lad," rejoined the sailor, placing his hand upon the back of the boy's head, and pressing it close to the edge of the raft, so that he could see well down into the water, — " look theer, and tell me what you see." u Where ? " asked William, still ignorant of the object to which his attention was thus forcibly directed. " Don't you see somethin' queery stickin' to the belly 6 the shark, — eh, lad ? " " As I live," rejoined William, now perceiving " some- thin', " " there 's a small fish pushing his head against the shark, — not so small either, — only in comparison with the great shark himself. It 's about a foot long, I should think. But what is it doing in that odd position ? " " Sticking to the shark, — did n't I tell 'ee, lad ! " " Sticking to the shark ? You don't mean that, Ben 7 " " But I do — mean that very thing, boy. It \s as fast theer as a barnacle to a ship's copper ; an' '11 stay, I hope, till I get my claws upon it, — which won't take very long from now. Pass a piece o' rord this way. Quick ." The boy stretched out his hand, and, getting hold ot a piece of loose string, reached it to his companion Just as 44 THE OCEAN WAIFS. the snare had been made for the shark with the piece ©f Bennit, and with like rapidity, a noose was constructed on the string; and, having been lowered into the water, was passed around the body of the little fish which appeared adhering to the belly of the shark. Not only did it so ap- pear, but it actually was, as was proved by the pull neces- sary to detach it, and which required all the strength ;hat lay in the strong arms of the sailor. He succeeded, however, in effecting his purpose ; and with a pluck the parasite fish was separated from the skin to which it had been clinging, and, jerked upwards, was landed alive and kicking upon the raft. Its kicking was not allowed to continue for long. Lest it might leap back into the water, and, sluggish swimmer as it was, escape out of reach, Ben, with the knife which he still held unclasped in his hand, pinned it to one of the planks, and in an instant terminated its existence. " What sort of a fish is it ? " asked William, as he looked upon the odd creature thus oddly obtained. " Suckin'-fish," was Ben's laconic answer. " A sucking-fish ! I never heard of one before. Why is it so called ? " " Because it sucks," replied the sailor. " Sucks what ? " " Sharks. Did n't you see it suckin' at this 'un afore I pulled it from the teat ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! " " Surely it was n't that, Ben ? " said the lad, mystified by Ben's remark. " Well, boy, I an'/- going to bamboozle ye. All I know is that it fastens onto sharks, and only this sort, which are called white sharks ; for I never seed it sticking to any o' the others, — of which there be several kinds. As to its suckin' anythin' out o' them an' livin' by that, I don't believe a word o' it ; though they say it do so, and that \s what 's given it its name. Why I don't believe it is, because I've seed tb.« FLENSING A SHARK. 45 ereature stickin' just the same way to the coppered bottom o b ship, and likewise to the sides o' rocks under the water. Now, it could n't get anything out o' the copper to live upon, dot yet out o' a rock, — could it ? " " Certainly not." " Then it could n't be a suckin' them. Besides, I 've seed the stomachs o' several cut open, and they were full of little water-creepers, — such as there 's thousands o' kinds in the Bea. I warrant if we rip this 'un up the belly, we '11 find the same sort o' food in it." " And why does it fasten itself to sharks and ships, — can you tell that, Ben ? " " I ve heerd the reason, and it be sensible enough, — more so than to say that it sucks. There was a doctor as belonged in the man-o'-war where I sarved for two years, as was larned in all such curious things. He said that the suckin'- fish be a bad swimmer ; and that I know myself to be true. You can tell by the smallness o' its fins. Well, the doctor, he say, it fastens on to the sharks and ships so as to get carried from place to place, and to the rocks to rest itself. Whenever it takes a notion, it can slip off, and go a huntin' for its prey ; and then come back again and take a fresh grip on whatever it has chosen to lodge itself." " It 's that curious thing along the back of its head that enables it to hold on, is n't it ? " " That's its sticking-machine ; and, what be curious, Will'm, if you were to try to pull it off upwards or backwards you could n't do it wi' all your strength, nor I neither : you must shove it forrard, as you seed me do just now, or else pull it to pieces before it would come off." ? I can see," said William, holding the fish up to his ryes, * that there are rows of little teeth in that queer top-knot it's got, all turned towards the tail. It is they, I suppose, thai prevent its slipping backwards ? " * No doubt, lad, — no doubt it be that. But never mind 46 THE OCEAN WAIFS. what it be just now. Let us finish flensin' o' the shark ; and then if we feel hungry we can make a meal o' the sucker, — for I can tell you it's the best kind o' eatin'. I've ate 'em often in the South Sea Islands, where the natives catch 'em with hooks and lines ; but I 've seen them there much bigger * CO throi this 'un, — three feet long, and more." And so saying, the sailor returned to the operation, thus temporarily suspended, — the flensing of the shark. CHAPTER XIII. THE SUCKING-FISH. r¥lHE fish that had thus singularly fallen into their hands I was, as Ben had stated, the sucking-fish, Echeneis re- mora, — one of the most curious creatures that inhabit the sea. Not so much from any peculiarity in appearance as from the singularity of its habits. Its appearance, however, is sufficiently singular ; and looking upon it, one might consider the creature as being well adapted for keeping company with the ferocious tyrant of the deep, on whom it constantly attends. Its body is black and smooth, its head of a hideous form, and its fins short and broadly spread. The mouth is very large, with the lower jaw protruding fai beyohd the upper, and it is this that gives to it the cast c feature, if we may be permitted to speak of " features " in a fish. Both lips and jaws are amply provided with teeth; and the throat, palate, and tongue are se>* profusely with short spines. The eyes are dark, and set hij*h up. The " sucker * or buckler upon the top of its head consists of a number of booy plates, set side bj side, so as tt form an oval disc, and THE SUCKING-?ISH. 47 armed along the edges with little tentacles, or teeth, as th« boy William had observed. His companion's account of the creature was perfectly correct, so far as it went ; but there are many other points in its " history " quite as curious as those which the sailor had communicated. The fish has neither swim-bladder nor sound; and as, moreover, its fins are of the feeblest kind, it is probably on this account that it has been gifted with the power of adher- ing to other floating bodies, by way of compensation for thfl above-named deficiencies. The slow and prowling move- ments of the white shark, render it particularly eligible foi the purposes of the sucking-fish, either as a resting-place 01 a means of conveyance from place to place; and it is well- known that the shark is usually attended by several of these singular satellites. Other floating objects, however, are used by the sucking-fish, — such as pieces of timber, the keel of a ship ; and it even rests itself against the sides of submerged rocks, as the sailor had stated. It also adheres to whales, turtles, and the larger kinds of albacore. Its food consists of shrimps, marine insects, fragments of molluscous animals, and the like ; but it obtains no nutriment through the sucking-apparatus, nor does it in any way injure the animal to which it adheres. It only makes use of the sucker at intervals ; at other times, swimming around the object it attends, and looking out for prey of its own choice, and on its own account. While swimming it propels itself by rapid lateral movements of the tail, executed awkwardly and with a tortuous motion. It is itself preyed upon by other fish, — diodons and alba* cores ; but the shark is merciful to it, as to the pilot-fish, and never interferes with it. Sucking-fish are occasionally seen of a pure white color Associating with the black ones, and also attending upon foe shark. They are supposed to be merely varieties or albinos. 48 THE OCEAN WAIFS. When sharks are hooked and drawn on board a ship, the sucking-fishes that have been swimming around them will remain for days, and even weeks, following the vessel through- out all her courses. Tli3y can then be taken by a hook and line, baited with a piece of flesh ; and they will seize the bait when let down in the stillest water. In order to secure them, however, it is necessary, after they have been hooked, to jerk them quickly out of the water ; else they will swim rapidly to the side of the ship, and fix their sucker so firmiv against the wood, as to defy every attempt to dislodge them. There are two well-known species of sucking-fish, — the common one described, and another of larger size, found in the Pacific, the Echeneis australis. The latter is a better shaped fish than its congener, can swim more rapidly, and is altogether of a more active habit. Perhaps the most interesting fact in the history of the Echeneis is its being the same fish as that known to the Spanish navigators as the remora, and which was found by Columbus in possession of the natives of Cuba and Jamaica, tamed, and trained to the catching of turtles! Their mode of using it was by attaching a cord of palm sennit to a ring already fastened round the tail, at the small- est part between the ventral and caudal fins. It was then allowed to swim out into the sea ; while the other end of the cord was tied to a tree, or made fast to a rock upon the beach. The remora being thus set — just as one would set a baited hook — was left free to follow its own inclinations, — which usually were to fasten its sucking-plates against the shell of one of the great sea-turtles, — so famed at aldermanic feasts and prized by modern gourmets, and equally relished by the ancient Cuban caciques. At intervals, the turtle-catcher would look to his line ; and when the extra strain upon it proved that the remora was en rapport with a turtle, he would haul in, until the huge chelonian was brought within striking distance of liis heavy club; and thus wouhl the capture be effected, A SAIL OF SHARK-FLESH. 49 Turtles of many hundreds' weight could be taken in this way ; for the pull upon the remora being towards the tail, — and therefore in a backward direction, — the sucking-fish could not be detached, unless by the most violent straining. It is a fact of extreme singularity, that a similar method of capturing turtles is practised on the coast of Mozambique at the present day, and by a people who never could have had any communication with the aborigines of the West Indian Islands, much less have learnt from them this curious craft of angling with a fish ! A smaller species of the sucking-fish is found in the Medi- terranean, — the Echeneis remora. It was well known to the ancient writers ; though, like most creatures gifted with any peculiarity, it was oftener the subject of fabulous romance than real history. It was supposed to have the power of arresting the progress of a ship, by attaching itself to the keel and pulling in a contrary direction ! A still more ridic- ulous virtue was attributed to it : in the belief that, if any criminal in dread of justice could only succeed in inducing the judge to partake of a portion of its flesh, he would be able to obtain a long delay before the judge could pronoun e the verdict of his condemnation ! CHAPTER XIV. A SAIL OF SHARK-FLESH. IT wanted but a little while of sunset, when the sailor and his young comrade had finished flensing the shark. The raft now exhibited quite an altered appearance- Betwe^r the two upright oars several pieces of rope had been stretched transversely, and from these hung suspended ths 50 THE OCEAN WAIFS. broad thin flitches of the shark's flesh, that at a distance might have been mistaken for some sort of a sail. Indeed^ they acted as such ; for their united discs presented a com siderable breadth of surface to the breeze, which had sprung up as the evening approached, and the raft by this means moved through the water with considerable rapidity. There was no effort made to steer it. The idea of reaching land was entirely out of the question. Their only hope of salvation lay in their being seen from a ship ; and as a ship was as likely to come from one direction as another, it mat- tered not to which of the thirty-two points of the compass their raft might be drifting. Yes, it did matter. So thought Ben Brace, on reflection. It might be of serious consequence, should the raft make way to the westward. Somewhere in that direction — how far neither could guess — that greater raft, with its crew of desperate ruffians, — those drunken would-be cannibals, — must be drifting about, like themselves, at the mercy of winds and waves: perhaps more than themselves suffering the dire extreme of thirst and hunger. Perhaps, ere then, one of their own number may have been forced to submit to the horrid fate which they had designed for little William ; and which, but for the interference of his generous protector, would most certainly have befallen him. Should he again fall into their clutches, there would be but slight chance of a second escape. His protector knew that. Ben knew, moreover, that his own life would be equally sure of being sacrificed to the resentment of the ribald crew, with whom he had formerly associated. No wonder, as he felt the breeze blowing on his »heek, that he looked towards the setting sun, to ascertain in what direction the raft was being borne. No wonder that his anxious glance became changed to a look of satisfaction, when he perceived that they were moving eastward. " To the east'ard it are, sure enough," said he, " ( and tha A SAIL OF SHARK-FLESH. 01 6e curious too. 'Tan't often I've-see'd the wind blow from the westward in these latytudes. Only another catspaw in the middle o' the calm. 'T won't last long ; though it won't matter, so long *s it don't turn and blow us t' other way." The expressed wish not to be blown " t' other way " needed no explanation. William understood what that meant. The fearful scene of the preceding day was fresh in his memory. That scene, where half a score of fiend-like monsters, threat- ening his life, were kept at bay by one heroic man, — that was a tableau too terrible to be soon forgotten. Nor had he forgotten it, even for a moment. Perhaps, during that brief conflict with the sharks, the nearer danger may have driven it for an interval out of his mind ; but that over, the dread remembrance returned again ; and every now and then, — even while engaged in the varied labors that had occupied them throughout the day, — in a sort of waking dream he had recalled that fearful vision. Often — every few minutes in fact — had his eyes been turned invol- untarily towards the west, — where, instead of looking hope- fully for a ship, his anxious glance betrayed a fear that any dark object might be seen in that direction. On finishing their task, both were sufficiently fatigued, — the strong sailor as well as his feebler companion. The former still kept his feet, anxiously scanning the horizon; while the latter laid himself along the bare boards of the raft. " Little "VVill'm," said the sailor, looking down at the boy, and speaking in gentle tones, " you 'd better spread the sail under ye, and get some sleep. There be no use in both o' uj keeping awake. I '11 watch till it gets dark, an' then I '11 join you. Go to sleep, lad ! go to sleep ! " William was too wearied to make objection. Drawing the skirt of the sail over the raft, lie lay down upon it, and found «»leep almost as soon 'is he had composed himself ii sixth day he had gone to rest with a feeling c«f confidence that soon enticed his spirit into the profoundest slumbers. Not that Snowball had gone without sleep during thfl THE FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 71 othei live nights spent upon his raft. He had slept a little on each of them. Only a little, however ; for, as most of them had been moonlight nights, he had kept awake during the greater portion of each, on the lookout over the sur- face of the ocean, lest some ship, sailing near, might glide past silently and unseen, and so deprive him of a chance of being picked up. The little Lalee had also borne part in these nocturnal vigils, — taking her turn when Snowball became too weary to keep awake ; and so, in alternate watches, had the two been in the habit of tiring out the long hours of the night. To this practice the sixth night had proved an exception. There was no moon in the sky ; there were no stars ; not a glimmer of light, either in the firmament of the heavens or on the face of the deep. The sky above and the sea below were both of one color, — the hue of pitch. On such a night it was idle to keep watch. A ship might have passed within a cable's length of the raft, and still remained un- seen ; and, filled with this conviction, both Snowball and his companion, after the night had fairly closed over them, 6tretched their bodies along the pieces of sail-cloth that formed their respective couches, and surrendered their spirits to the sweet enchantment of sleep. CHAPTER XX. THE FLASH OP LIGHTNING. SNOWBALL began to snore almost as soon as he had closed his eyelids, and as if the shutting of his eyes had either occasioned or strengthened the current of breath through his nostrils. 72 THE OCEAN WAIFS. And such a sound as the snore of the Coromantee waa rarely heard upon the ocean, — except in the "spouting" of a whale or the "blowing" of a porpoise. It did not wake the little Lalee. She had become accus- tomed to the snoring of Snowball, — which, instead of being a disturber, acted rather as a lullaby to her rest. It was only after both had been asleep for many hours after midnight, — in fact when Lalee was herself sleeping less soundly, and when a snore, more prolonged and pro- digious than any that had preceded it, came swelling through the nostrils of the sea-cook, — it was only then that the young girl was awakened. Becoming aware of what had awakened her, she would have gone to sleep again; but just as she was about re- composing herself upon her sailcloth couch, a sight came before her eyes that caused her not only to remain awake, but filled her with a feeling of indescribable awe. On the instant of opening her eyes, the sky, hitherto dark, had become suddenly illumined by lightning, — not in streaks or flashes, but as if a sheet of fire had been spread for an instant over the whole canopy of the heavens. At the same time the surface of the sea had been equally lighted up with the vivid gleam ; and among the many ob- jects drifting around the raft, — the remnants of the wreck, with which the eyes of the little Lalee had now become familiarized, — she saw, or fancied she saw, one altogether new to her. It was a human face and figure, in the likeness of a beau- tiful boy, who appeared to be kneeling on the water, or on some slight structure on a level with the surface of the sea! The lightning had revealed other objects beside him and over him. A pair of slender sticks, standing some feel apart, and in a perpendicular position, with some whita strips suspended between them, in the gleam of the light ning shone clear and conspicuous. THE FLASH OF LIGHTNING 73 It is not to be wondered at thai the little Lake should feel surprise at an apparition, — so unexpected, in such a place, and under such circumstances. It is not to be won- dered at that her first impulse should be to rouse her companion out of his snoring slumbers. She did so upon the instant, and without waiting for an- other flash of lightning either to confirm her belief in what she had seen, or convince her that it was only an apparition, — which her fancy, disturbed by the dreams in which she had been indulging, had conjured up on the instant of her awaking. " Wha's dat you say ? " inquired Snowball, abruptly awak- ened in the middle of a superb snore ; " see something ! you say dat, ma pickaninny ? How you see anyting such night as dis be ? Law, ma lilly Lally, you no see de nose Tore you own face. De 'ky 'bove am dark as de complex- yun ob dis ole nigga; you muss be mistake, lilly gal! — dat you muss ! " "No, indeed, Snowball!" replied Lalee, speaking in gumbo Portuguese, " I am not mistaken. It was n't dark when I saw it. There was lightning ; and it was as clear as in daylight for a little while. I 'm sure I saw some one ! " "What was de some one like?" interrogated Snowball, in an accent that proclaimed incredulity. " Was 'urn a man or a woman ? " "Neither." "Neider! Den it muss ha* been, — ha! maybe it war a mermaid ! " "What I saw looked like a boy, Snowball. O, now I think of it, like that boy." " What boy you 'peak 'bout ? " " He who was aboard the ship, — the English boy who was one of the sailors." u Ah 1 you mean de little Will'm, I 'pose. I reck'n dat 74 THE OCEAN WAIFS. 'ere lad hab gone to de bott'm ob de sea long afore dis, of else he get off on de big raff. I know he no go 'long wi' de cappen, 'caze I see de little chap close by de caboose attei de gig row 'way. If he hab go by de raff dem ruffins sure eat him up, — dat be if dey get hungry. Dey sure do dat ! Hark ! what 's dat I heer ? Sure 's my name be Snowball, I hear some 'un 'peak out dere to win'ard. D' you hear anything, lilly Lally?" " Yes, Snowball : I think I did." " What you tink you ? " "A voice." " What sort o' voice ? " " Like a boy's voice, — just like Ms." " Who you mean ? " " The boy sailor aboard the ship. O, listen ! There it is again ; and surely I hear another ? " " Gorramity ! little gal, you 'peak de troof. Sure 'nuff dere am a voice, — two ob dat same. One am like de boy we 'peak 'bout, — odder more like a man o' full groaf. I wonder who dey can be. Hope 't an't de ghoses of some o' de Pandora's dat ha' been drowned or eat up by de sharks. Lissen 'gain, Lally, an try make dem out." Having imparted this injunction, the negro raised himself into a half-erect attitude ; and facing to windward with his arms resting upon one of the empty casks, — which, as already stated, formed a sort of circular parapet around his raft, — he remained silent and listening. The little Lalee had also assumed a half-erect attitude ; and, by the side of her sable companion, kept peering out into the darkness, — in the hope that another flash of light- ning might again reveal to her eyes the features of that beautiful boy, who, alone of all upon that fated ship, had made upon her mind an impression worthy of tieing remem- bered. TO THE OARS. Ih CHAPTER XXI. TO THE OARS. aXTTE'VE got to die 1" As the sailor gave utterance to these words of fearful import, he started from his recumbent position, and, half erect upon the raft, remained listening, — at the sami time endeavoring with his glance to pierce the darkness that shrouded the surface of the deep. Little William, terrified by the speech of his protector, made no rejoinder, but with like silence continued to look and listen. There was nothing visible save sea and sky ; and these, in the dim obscurity, were not to be distinguished from each other. A raft or boat, — even a large ship, — could not have been seen at two cables' distance from that on which they were drifting along ; and the only sounds now heard were the sighing of the night breeze, and the " swish " of the water as it swept along the sides of their slight embar- kation. For five minutes or more there was nothing to interrupt this duetto of winds and waves, and Ben was beginning to believe he had been mistaken. It might not have been the voice of a man, nor a voice at all. He was but half awake when he fancied hearing it. Was it only a fancy, — an illu- sion ? It was at the best very indistinct, — as of some one speaking in a muttered tone. It might be the " blowing ' of a porpoise, or the utterance of some unknown monster of the sea : for the sailor's experience had taught him that there are many kinds of creatures inhabiting the ocean that are only seen at rare intervals even by one who is constantly traversing it, and many others one may never see at all. Could the sounds have proceeded from the throat of soma 76 THE OCEAN WAIFS. \ of these human-like denizens of the deep, known as du gongs, lamantins, manatees, and the like ? It was strangest of all that William had heard the voice of a girl : for the lad still adhered to the belief that he had done so. That might have been the cry of a bird, or a mer- maid ; and Ben would have been ready enough to accept *he latter explanation. But the voice of a young girl, coupled with that of a man, rendered the circumstance more mysterious and altogether inexplicable. > "Did n't you hear a man's voice, lad ? " he asked at length, with a view either of dissipating his doubts or confirming them. " I did," replied the boy. " Yes, Ben ; I 'm sure I did , not loud, but muttered like. But I don't know whether it was Le Gros. O, if it was ! " " Thee have good reason to know his ugly croak, the parley vooin' scoundrel ! That thee have, Will'm ! Let 's hope we are both mistaken : for if we 're to come across them ruffins on the big raft, we needn't expect mercy at their hands. By this time they '11 be all as hungry as the sharks and as ravenin' too." " Oh ! " exclaimed William, in accents of renewed fear, " I hope it 's not them ! " " Speak low, lad ! " said the sailor, interrupting him, " only in whispers. If they be near, the best thing for us are to keep quiet. They can't see us no more than we can them ; anyhow, till it come mornin'. If we could hear the sound again so as to make out the direction. I did n't notice that." " I did," interrupted William. " Both the voices I heard srere out this way." The boy pointed to leeward. " To leuart, you think they wur ? " " I 'm sure they came from that quarter." "That be curious, hows'ever," said the sailor. "If't be them on the big raft they must a passed us, or else the wind TO THE OARS. 7? mua* a veered round, for we've been to ieuart o' them evei since partin' wi' 'em. Could the wind a gone round I won- der ? Like enough. It be queer, — and it 's blowing from the west in this part o' the Atlantic ! 'T an't possible to saj what point it be in, hows'ever, — not without a compass. There bean't even the glimmer o' a star in the sky ; and if there wur we could n't make much o' it ; since the north star bean't seen down in these latitudes. Thee be sure the sound come from leuart ? " " 0, I am quite sure of it, Ben ; the voices came up the wind." " Then we 'd best go the same way and gie 'em as wide a berth as possible. Look alive, lad ! Let 's down wi' them flitches o' the shark-meat : for it 's them that 's driftin' us along. We '11 take a spell at the oars, and afore daylight we may get out o' hearin' o' the voices, and out of sight o' them as has been utterin' o' them." Both rose simultaneously to their feet, and commenced taking down the slices of half-dried shark -flesh, and placing them upon the sail-cloth, — with the intention, as the sailor had counselled it, to unship the oars that had been doing duty as masts, and make use of them in their proper manner. While engaged in this operation both remained silent, — at intervals stopping in their work to listen. They had got so far as to clear away the suspended flitches, and were about unfastening the cords where they were looped around the upright oars, when another cord, attached to one of the latter, caught their attention. It was the piece of rope which closed the mouth of their tarpauling water-bag, and held the latter in such a position as io keep the " cask " from leaking. Fortunately they were doing things in a deliberate man- ner. If they had been acting otherwise, and had rashly "unstepped" the mast to which that piece of rope was attached, their stock of fresh water would have been rapvli/ 78 THis. OCEAN WAIFS. diminished, — perhaps altogether spilled into the salt sea, before they should have become aware of the disaster. As it was, they perceived the danger in good time ; and, instead of taking down the oar, at once desisted from their intention It now became a question as to whether they should pro ceed any furthei in the design of rowing the raft to wind- ward. With a single oar they could make but little way ; and the other was already occupied in doing a duty fronr which it could not possibly be spared. It is true there were still left the fragments of the hand- spike that had been ground between the teeth of the sur- viving shark, and afterwards picked up as they drifted past it. This might serve instead of the oar to support the mouth of the water-bag ; and as soon as this idea occurred to them they set about carrying it into execution. It took but a few minutes of time to substitute one stick for the other ; and then, both oars being free, they seated themselves on opposite sides of the raft, and commenced pro- pelling it against the wind, — in a direction contrary to that in which the mysterious voices had been heard. CHAPTER XXII. ship ahoy! ri^HEY had not made ove? a dozen strokes of their oars, JL — which they handled cautiously and in silence, all the while listening intently, — when their ears were again saluted by sounds similar to those first heard by little William, and which he had conjectured to be the voice of a young girL As before, the utterance was very low, — murmured, as if repeating a series of words, — in fact, as if the speaker wai engaged in a quiet conversation. SHIP AHOY! 79 "Shivw my timbers!" exclaimed the sailor, as soon as the voice again ceased to be heard. "If that bean't the palaver o' a little girl, my name wur never Ben Brace on a ship's book. A smalley wee thing she seem to be; not bigger than a marlinspike. It sound like as if she wur talkin' to some un. What the Ole Scratch can it mean, Will'm?" " I don't know. Could it be a mermaid ? " " Could it ? In course it could." " But are there mermaids, Ben ? " "Maremaids! Be theer maremaids? That what ye say? Who denies there ain't? Nobody but disbelevin' land-lubbers as never seed nothin' curious, 'ceptin' two- headed calves and four-legged chickens. In coorse there be maremaids. I've seed some myself; but I've sailed with a shipmate as has been to a part o' the Indyan Ocean, where there be whole schools o' 'em, wi' long hair hangin' about their ears an' over their shoulders, just like reg'lar schools o' young girls goin' out for a walk in the outskirts o' Ports- mouth or Gravesend. Hush ! theer be her voice again ! " As the sailor ceased speaking, a tiny treble, such as might proceed from the tongue of a child, — a girl of some eight or ten years old, — came trembling over the waves, in tones that betokened a conversation. A moment or two elapsed ; and then, as if in reply to the words spoken by the child, was heard another voice, — evi- dently that of a man ! " If the one be a maremaid," whispered Ben to his com- panion, " the other must be a mareman. Shiver my tim- bers, if it ain't a curious confab! Moonrakers and sky scrapers ! what can it mean ? " " I don't know," mechanically answered the boy. " Anyhow," continued the sailor, apparency relieved by the reflection, "It ain't the Kg raft. There 's no voice like that little 'un among its crew o' ruffins; and that man. who 80 THE OCEAN WAirS. iomever he be, don't speak like Le Gros. I only thought so at first, bein' half asleep. " If it be a school o' mareraaids," pursued he, " theer an't no danger, even wi' theer men along wi' 'ern. Leastwise, I never heerd say there wur from maremaids more 'n any other weemen ; an' not so much, I dare say. Sartin it bcan't the Frenchman, nor any o' that scoundrel crew. Lord o' mercy ! It might be a ship as is passing near us ! " As this thought occurred to the speaker, he raised himsell into an erect attitude, as if to get a better view. " I '11 hail, Will'm," he muttered ; " I '11 hail 'em. Keep your ears open, lad; and listen for the answer. Ship ahoy ! " The hail was sent in the direction whence the mysterious sounds appeared to have proceeded. There came no re- sponse ; and the sailor, after listening attentively for a second or two, repeated the " Ship ahoy ! " this time in a louder key. Quick as an echo the words came back, though it could not be an echo. There are no echoes upon the ocean ; be- sides, the voice that repeated the well-known phrase was quite different from that of him who had first pronounced it. Though different both in tone and accent, it was evi- dently a human voice ; and, as evidently, that of a man. A rude, rough voice it was ; but it is superfluous to say that, to the ears of Ben Brace and his youthful companion, it sounded sweeter than any music to which they had ever listened. The words " Ship ahoy ! " were soon succeeded by others, proceeding from the same lips. " Gorramity ! " spoke the strange voice, " who de deb- bil call dar ? Dat some'dy in de boat ? Dat you, Cap ten ? Am it you, Massa Grow ? " "A negro," muttered Ben to his companion. " It* f Snowball, the cook. It can't be anybody but him. In the name o' Neptune how has the darkey got there J SHIP AHOY! 81 What 's he aboard o' ? He war n't on the great raft wi the rest. I thought he'd gone off in the captain's gig. If that wur so, then it 's the boat that 's near us." "No," replied William, "I'm sure I saw Snowball by the caboose after the gig had rowed away. As he was n't with them on the big raft, I supposed he 'd been drowned, or burned up in the ship. Surely it 's his voice ? There it is again ! " "Ship ahoy — hoy — hoy !" once more came the words pealing over the water in a loud prolonged drawl. " Ship ahoy, some'dy call out dar ? What ship am dat ? Am it a ship at all ? Or am it some o J de wreck Pandoray ? " " Castaways," responded Ben. " Castaways of the bark Pandora. Who calls ? Snowball ! Be it you ? " " Dat same chile, — who am you ? Am it you, massa Capten, — in de gig ? " " No." " Massa Grow, den, on de big raff ? " " Neither," responded the sailor. " It's Ben, — Ben Brace." " Golly ! you say so, Massa Brace ! How you be dar, unless you on de big raff?" " I 'm on a raft of my own. Have you one, Snowball ? " " Ya, massa Ben, ya ! I make um out o' de wreck an de water-cask." " Are ye all alone ? " " Not 'zackly dat. The pickaninny be long wi' me, — de eabing gal. You know de lilly Lalee ? " " Oh ! she it be ! " muttered Ben, now remembering the little cabin passenger of the Pandora. " You bean ; t movin , be you ? " " No," responded Snowball, " lying on de water like a log o' 'hogany wood. Han't move a mile ebba skrce de bustin' ob de powder ball." "Keep your place then. We've got oars. We'll ro* down to you." 4* r 82 THE OCEAN WAIFS. « We — you say we ? You got some'dy sides yaself 01 dat raff?" " Little Will'm." " Lilly Willum, — ah ? dat ere brave lilly lad. See 'im jess as I go down in de cabin fo' get de pickaninny. See 'im forrard with axe, — he knock off de gratin' ob de fore-hatch, — he set all dern 'ere niggas free. It war n't no use, — not bit good o' dem. Dey all got eat up by de shark, or dey go down straight to de bottom. Gorramity ! how dey s'riefe an' 'cream, an' jump overboard into de water ! " Neither the sailor nor Little William paid any heed to the negro's half-soliloquized narrative, further than to make use of his voice to guide them through the darkness towards the spot whence it proceeded. On discovering that it was Snowball who was near, both had turned upon their own craft, and were now rowing it in the opposite direction to that in which, but the moment before, they had been so eagerly propelling it. As they now pulled to leeward, they had the wind in their favor ; and by the time the negro arrived at the end of his disjointed narrative, they were within half a cable's length of him, and, through the darkness, were beginning to distin- guish the outlines of the odd embarkation that carried Snow- ball and his protege. Just then the lightning blazed across the canopy of heav- en, discovering the two rafts, — each to the other. In ten seconds more they were en rapport, and their respective crews congratulating each other, with as much joyfulness as if the unexpected encounter had completely delivered them from death and its dangers! THE RAFTS EN RAPPORT. • CHAPTER XXIII. THE RAFTS EN RAPPORT. TWO travellers meeting in the midst of a lone wilder- ness, even though strangers to each other, would noi be likely to pass without speaking. If old acquaintances, then would they be certain to make the longest pause pos- sible, and procrastinate their parting till the last moment allowed by the circumstances. If these circumstances would permit of their reaching their respective destinations by the same route, how sorry would each be to separate, and how happy to enter into a mutual alliance of co-operatior fast there, Snowey! I dare say we can lay alongside safe enough till daylight ! After that we '11 splice together in a better sort o* way." The ex-cook, obedient to the injunctions of the seaman* seized hold of the end of rope thrown to him, and made it fast to one of the spars which comprised his singular craft ; while at the same time Ben busied himself in tying the other end to the piece of handspike erected upon his own. Soon each completed his task ; and after some time spent in a mutual detail of the adventures that had befallen them since the hour of separation on the deck of the ill-fated Pandora, it was agreed that all should go to rest for the remainder of the night, and with the earliest light of day take measures to perpetuate the union of the two wandering waifs thus unexpectedly brought into companionship. CHAPTER XXIV. RECONSTRUCTING THE RAFT. THE crews of both rafts were astir by early dawn, the sailor arousing one and all from their slumbers. The ris ing sun, as it shone over the ocean, fell upon four faces, all wearing a very different expression from that which they had exhibited at his setting on the day before. If not positively cheerful, there was at least hopefulness in their looks : foi their renewed companionship had mutually inspired one and 86 THE OCEAN WAIFS. all with renewed hopes of deliverance. Indeed, it waa evident even to the youngest of the party, that this unex- pected union of strength would materially increase the chances of escape from the common danger ; since the twc strong men working together could do many things that would have been impossible to either of them alone, — to say nothing of the encouragement and confidence always spring- ing from concerted action. The very fact of their having come together in the way they had done seemed something more than accidental. It looked less like mere accident than that they had been favored by the hand of Providence ; and even the rude sea- man, and the still ruder sea-cook, were only too glad to give way to the fancy that Providence was interfering on their behalf. Certainly, the succession of fortunate events with which both had been favored, — and which had not only hitherto sustained them, but promised to preserve their lives for a still longer period, — certainly, these circumstances were sufficient to beget the belief that they were specially under the protection of some power less capricious than mere chance. The fact of their having encountered each other — even when one of them had been in the act of taking measures to avoid the encounter — was of itself something to strength- en this conviction, and increase their hopefulness for the future. This very effect it produced ; and it was for that reason that Ben Brace was so early astir, and so early in arousing the others. The sailor had had too much experience in the capacious- ness of the wind to believe that such calm weather as they had been enjoying for days would last much longer ; and he had got up betimes with a view of uniting the two rafts, and strengthening the structure that might spring out of RECONSTRUCTING THE RAFT. 87 their union, so that it might resist whatever storm should threaten. To attempt constructing a craft of such capability did not seem so hopeless to the skilful seaman. Before it had ap- peared so ; but now, with the materials composing the two rafts, and others which the morning sun disclosed drifting about upon the surface of the sea, the thing looked less of an impossibility. In fact, it did not appear at all impossible ; and for this reason Ben and the black at once came to the determination to attempt it. After a short time spent in deliberation, it was resolved to break up the lesser raft, — that which had hitherto carried the sailor and little William. The planks composing it could be transferred to the larger and better structure which Snowball had got together ; and this was furthermore to be reconstructed and considerably enlarged. It was not designed to make any great alteration in the shape or fashion which Snowball had chosen for his craft, which displayed great ingenuity on the part of its designer. As it was deemed proper enough, his design was to be re- tained, — only the construction was to be on a larger scale. Before setting to work, it was essential that something in the shape of a breakfast should be swallowed. This was drawn from the stores which Snowball had been engaged for days in accumulating, and consisted simply of biscuit and dried "bonito." In the absence of any fire, the ex-cook had no opportu- nity to exercise his peculiar vocation, else the meal might have been more palatable. The biscuits from having had a salt bath were a little briny to the taste ; but that signified little to such sharp appetites as they were called upon to satisfy ; and it was not such a bad breakfast, when washed down, as it was, with a little wine and water. You may be asking whence came the wine ; and this was the very question which the sailor addressed to Snowball) on discovering such a commodity upon his craft. $8 THE OCEAN WAIFS. The answer w as easy enough. A small cask of u Ca nary" liad been one of the items among the cabin stores. At the explosion it had been pitched into the sea; and not being quite full had freely floated on the surface. Snowball had taken possession of it by attaching it to his timbers. Breakfast over, the work of reconstruction commenced. As a preliminary, the flitches of shark-meat were removed from the little raft, now doomed to destruction ; while tliat ingenious contrivance of the sailor, — the canvas water- cask, — now no longer required, was emptied of its con- tents ; which, with the greatest care, were decanted into the safe depository of one of the empty hogsheads that had been hitherto acting as supports to the embarkation of Snowball. The oars, sail-cloth, piece of handspike, axe, and tarpaul- ing were also transferred to the latter ; and then the planks, and fragments of yards and spars, were loosed from their lashings, and one by one distributed into their proper places in the new structure. AU day long did the work continue, — only an interval of an hour being appropriated to the midday meal. Ex- cursions, too, were made from point to point, — the oars serving to propel the half-constructed craft: the object of these excursions being to pick up such pieces of timber, ropes, or other articles as Snowball had not already se- cured. The aid of the others now rendered many items available which Snowball had formerly rejected as useless, — because unmanageable by himself while acting alone. The sun set upon their task still unfinished ; but they re- tired hopefully to rest : for the sky promised a continuance of the calm weather, and they knew that if the promise was kept, a few hours in the morning of the following day would suffice to complete the construction of a raft, — one that would not only give them ample accommcdation for the stow THE CATAMARAN. 89 age both of themselves and their stores, but would in all probability ride out any gale likely to be encountered in that truly pacific part of the Atlantic Ocean. CHAPTER XXV. THE CATAMARAN. NEXT morning, as soon as there was light enough for them to see what they were about, the work was re- sumed; and the timbers having been put together in a fashion to satisfy all hands, were lashed to one another as tightly as the united strength of the sailor, Snowball, and Little William could draw the ropes around them. The structure when completed was of an oblong shape, — somewhat resembling a punt or flat-bottomed ferry-boat, — nearly twenty feet in length by about half as much in breadth of beam. The empty hogsheads were placed around the edge in a regular manner. One lay crosswise at the head, while another was similarly situated as re- garded the stern. The other four — there were six in all — were lashed lengthwise along the sides, — two of them opposite each other on the larboard and starboard bows, while the other two respectively represented the " quar- ters." By this arrangement a certain symmetry was ob tained; and when the structure was complete, it reallj looked like a craft intended for navigation, and by Ben Brace, — its chief architect, — it was facetiously christened The Catamaran. By noon of the second day the Catamaran was com pleted, — so far as the hull was concerned. Had Snowball been by himself he would have left it in that state : for th* 90 THE OCEAN WAIFS. black did not yet believe that there was the slightest proba bility of reaching land by means of such an embarkation. But the sailor, — more skilled in such matters, — was of a different way of thinking. He believed it not only possible, but probable enough, that this feat might be accomplished. He knew that they were in the very centre of the southern trade-wind ; and that the raft, even if left to itself, would in time drift onward to some point on the coast of South America. With a sail its speed would be accelerated ; and although, thus furnished, such a clumsy structure could not sail very swiftly, there was still a chance of its carrying them safely, — if slowly, — to land. Ben knew it was simply a question of time, — dependent upon how long their provisions might last them, — but more especially their supply of water. Having formed in his own mind a sort of rough calcula tion as to the chances, and finding them rather in favor of the scheme, he determined on making trial of it, by erect- ing a mast upon the raft, and to this bending a sail. At the worst, their chances of being picked up would be quite as good while sailing with the wind, as if they allowed them- selves to lie adrift upon the ocean. Fortunately the materials for both mast and sail were on hand, and in abundance. They had found the " spanker " of the Pandora floating about, with its boom and all the cordage attached. By using the boom as a mast, and another smaller spar as a boom, they could rig up such a sail as would carry the Catamaran through the water with considerable velocity. As soon as he had fully considered it in his own mind, the sailor, aided by Snowball and Little William, proceeded to rig th6 Catamaran, and by the close of the third day from the commencement of their labors a tall mast stood up out of the centre of that curious craft, midships between stem and stern, with boom and guy, and a broad sail hangng THE CATAMARAN. 91 toosely along its yard, — ready to be spread to the first breath of wind that might blow westward over the ocean. The breeze which had brought Ben and little William back among the wreck-drift of the slave bark, leading to a renewal of intercourse with their old shipmate, Snowball, had been blowing in the contrary direction to that in which the sailor intended to steer. This breeze, however, was not such as was to be looked for in that latitude. It was only a mere puff, — a cat's-paw, — in the midst of the calm that had continued for many days after the destruction of the slaver. It had lulled again on the same night in which the rafts had become united ; and ever since, — during the three days they had been at work in the construction of the (7a- tamaran, — the calm had continued without intermission. On the fourth day things remained the same, — not a breath stirring from any quarter to ruffle the glassy surface of the sea ; which, like a mirror, reflected the odd image of the Catamaran, with her six hogsheads set like bulwarks around her sides, and her stout mast tapering tall and soli- tary out of her midst. Neither her captain, — Ben Brace of course, — nor those of her crew who were capable of reflecting on the future, and providing for its probable contingencies, regretted tmV inaction, — forced upon them by the continuance of the calm. Indeed, although becalmed, the " Catamarans " were not inactive. There was work worthy of their activity, an8i pretty, sweet face, not a ringlet in her jetty curling hair, with which his eyes were not perfectly familial Ofttimes had he stood, — half-screened behind the sails, -— gazing upon her as she loitered by the cabin hatch, sur- rounded by rude ruffian forms, like a little white lamb in the midst of so many wolves. Ofttimes had the sight caused his pulse to beat and hi? heart to throb with throes in which pain and pleasure were equally commingled, but the cause of which he could not comprehend. Now, seated side by side with this young creature on board the Catamaran, — even on that frail embarkation, which at any moment might be scattered to the winds, or whelmed under the black billows of the sea, — the sailor-boy no longer felt pain while gazing in her face, but only that sweet incomprehensible pleasure. CHAPTER XXVII. TOO LATE ! NEARLY two hours had transpired since the starting of the Catamaran, — during which time but little change took place in the relative positions of those on board. Then, however, Snowball having finished the stowage of his Btores, proposed taking his turn at steering. The offer was willingly accepted by the sailor, who, relinquishing his hold apon the oar, went forward amidships. There he had placed his old sea-chest; and, kneeling in front of it, he commenced rummaging among its contents, with the design of making himself more familiar with them, and seeing whether he might not discover some article insMe that would be serviceable under the circumstances. 06 THE OCEAN WAIFS. William and Lilly Lalee still remained by the head,— the boy habitually keeping a lookout over the ocean, but at frequent intervals turning his glances towards her who sat by his side, and endeavoring to interest her with his con- Tersation. The girl could not speak English, — only a few phrases which she had picked up from English or American seamen, who had visited her father's fort upon the African coast. These, though by her repeated in all innocence, were neither of the most refined character, nor yet sufficiently comprehensive to enable her to hold any lengthened di- alogue. It was in her own tongue that the conversation between her and William was carried on : for the lad had picked up a somewhat extensive vocabulary of Portuguese among the sailors of the Pandora, — many of whom were of that nation. It was a sort of " lingoa geral " spoken along the seaboard of Africa, — not unlike a similar Por- tuguese patois, current on the coasts and large rivers of tropical South America. In this language, little William, by the aid of signs and gestures, was able to keep up an occasional conversation with Lilly Lalee. During the two hours which the sailor had remained at the steering oar, — and for some time after, — no incident occurred to interrupt the tranquillity of the Catamaran's crew. A very odd sort of fish, swimming about a cable's length ahead of the craft, had attracted the attention of William and the girl, — exciting their curiosity so much as to cause them tc rise to their feet and stand watching it. The interest which this creature had inspired was not, however, of a pleasant kind. On the contrary, both looked upon it with feelings of repugnance, almost amounting to awe ; for it was in reality one of the ugliest monsters to b« niet with in the great deep TOO LATE! 97 In size it \* as about equal to the body of a man ; but much more elongated, and lessening gradually towards the tail. It seemed to possess a double quantity of fins, — lunat- ed along their outer margins, and set thickly over its body, bo as to give it a bristling aspect. Unlike other fishes, ita neck was more slender than its head and shoulders, — * im- parting to it a sort of human shape. But it was in its head that the hideousness of the creature was more especially conspicuous ; the skull being prolonged on each side out- wards to the distance of several inches, and set upon its neck after the fashion of a mallet upon its shaft ! At the end of these lateral protuberances appeared the eyes, with gleaming golden irides, glancing horridly to the right and left. The mouth was not less abnormal in shape and position. Instead of being in the hideous head already described, it was in the breast, — where at intervals it could be seen yawning wide open, and displaying a quadruple row of sharp serrated teeth, that threatened instant destruction to any sub- stance, however hard, that might chance to come between them. Little William knew not what sort of fish it was ; for though common enough in some parts of the ocean, he had not had the good or ill fortune to see one before. As his companion had put the question, however, — and also to satisfy his own curiosity, — he appealed to Ben. The latter, raising his eyes above the top of his chest, and looking in the direction pointed out by the lad, at once recog- nized the animal which appeared to have attached itself as an escort to the Catamaran. " Hammer-head ! " said Ben ; " a shark he be ; an' the agliest o' his ugly tribe." Saying this, the sailor once more ducked his head under the lid of the chest, and continued his exploration, — alto- gether heedless of the " hammer-head," from whose pioxirait* they had nothing to fear. So believed Ben Brace at the moment. 5 « 98 THE OCEAN WAIFS. It proved a feeling of false security. In less than te* minutes from that time the sailor was within six feet of the "hammer-head's" open mouth, — in imminent danger of being craunched between those quadruple tiers of terrible teeth, and taken into the monster's capacious maw. By the phrase * hammer-head," so laconically pronounced by the captain of the Catamaran, little William recognized *n the fish a creature which, although never seen by him before, he had read of in books, both of travel and natural History. It was the " hammer-head " shark, or balance-fish, so called from the peculiar formation of its head, — the zygana of the naturalists, and one of the most voracious of that devouring tribe to which generically it belongs. The individual in question was, as is already stated, about a cable's length from the raft, right ahead ; and through the translucent water its form could be distinctly traced in all its hideous outlines. Swimming in the same direction, and at a like rate of speed, it preserved a regular distance from the raft ; and appeared like some guide or avant courier con- ducting the Catamaran across the Atlantic ! William and Lalee watched the fish for a considerable time ; but as no change took place either in its movements or the position it held in relation to the raft, their curiosity at length became satisfied, and their eyes were turned in a different direction. But the gaze of the boy-sailor soon became fixed; and upon an object which caused him to give utterance to two distinct exclamations, — distinct in point of time, as different m signification. The first was an ejaculation, or rather a series of phrases expressing a jocular surprise, — the second a cry of serious alarm. " Ho ! " cried he, on turning round and glancing towards the stern of the Catamaran, " Snowball asleep ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! See the old sea-cook ! Verily, fch« steering oar hai escaped from his hand!" fifel A [ , ■ ' "tfff M OVERBOARD ! " 9if Almost Instantly succeeded the shout that betokened alarm, followed by a series of hurried phrases, indicating the danger itself. " The boom, — the boom ! 'T is coming round ! Look out, Lalee ! look out ! " As he gave utterance to these words of warning, the boy sprang towards his companion, with arms outstretched, to protect her. The action came too late. The steering oar, held in the hands of the sleeper, hung suspended high above the water. The Catamaran, left without control, luffed suddenly round beam-end to the wind ; the boom obeyed the impulse of the breeze ; and Lilly Lalee, uplifted upon its end, was brushed off from the craft, and jerked far out upon the blue bosom of the ocean ! CHAPTER XXVI11. " OVERBOARD ! " THE cry came from little William, as the Portuguese girl, lifted on the end of the boom, was pitched far out into the sea. The utterance was merely mechanical ; and as it escaped from his lips, the sailor-lad rushed towards the edge of the raft, and placed himself in an attitude to plunge into the water, — with the design of swimming to the rescue of Lalee. Just then the boom, suddenly recoiling, came back with a rapid sweep ; and, striking him across the shins, sent him sprawling over the shoulders of Ben Brace, and right into the sea-chest, in front of which the sailor was still kneeling. Ben had hsard that significant crv of a\arm, and almost 100 THE OCEAN WAIFS. simultaneously the "plash" made by the little Por'uguesi as her body dropped down upon the water. Ho had slewed himself ro jnd, and was making a hurried effort to get to hii feet, when the boy, flung with violence upon his stooping back, once more brought him to his knees. As William was chucked right over him into the chest thu sailor uoon recovered from the shock, and rising erect, cn*d oui in a half-confused manner, — " Overboard ! Who ? W.ueie ? Not you, Will'm ! What is 't, boy ? » <• O Aeu I Ben ! " answered William, as he lay kicking among the contents of the kit, " Lilly Lalee, she 's knocked overbo.«ra Oy the boom ! Save her ! save her ! " The sa Vol needed neither the information nor the appeal thus addieise? to him. His interrogations had been alto- gether mecha vical, for the plunge he had heard, and the absence of the gh 1 from the raft, — ascertained by a single glance, — told tdtn which of the Catamaran's crew it was who had fallen overboard. The circling eddies in the water showed him the spot where the girl \ ad gone down ; but, just as he got to his feet again, she had /eturned to the surface ; and, uttering half- stifled screams, commenced buffeting the water with her tiny hands, in an inst.nctive endeavor to keep herself afloat. In a crisis of this character, the brave English sailor was obstructed by no ambiguity as to how he should act. A single bound carried him across the Catamaran, — another landed him upon the top of one of the casks, and a third launched him six feet outward into the sea. Had he been apprised of the accident only a score of seconds sooner, less than that number of strokes would have sufficed him to reach the spot where the child had first fallen into the water. Unfortunately in the collision with little William, that had brought him back to his knees, some time had been expended. During this interval — short as it was — the waft, though under an uncontrolled sail, was still making " OVERBOARD \" 101, considerable way ; and when the rescuer at length succeeded in leaping from the cask, the struggling form. hud fallen iv to the wake of the Catamaran to the distance of nearly a cable's length. If the girl could only keep afloat for a few minutes, there need be no great danger. The sailor knew that he could swim, sustaining a heavier weight than was the little Lalee* But it was evident the child could not swim a stroke, and was every moment in danger of sinking for the second time. H«r rescuer perceived this danger as he started to her aid ; and therefore pressed rapidly towards her, cleaving the water with all the strength that lay in his muscular arma and limbs. Meanwhile little William had also regained his feet ; and, having extricated himself from the chest in which he had been temporarily encoffined, ran towards the after part of the raft. Quickly mounting upon the water-cask at the stern, he stood astride the steering oar, — an anxious and trembling spectator, — his eyes alternately fixed on the strong swimmer and the struggling child. Snowball was still dormant, buried in a slumber profound and unconscious, — such as only a "darkey" can enjoy The cry " Overboard ! " uttered by little William had made no impression upon the tympanum of his wide-spread ears, — nor the exclamations that succeeded in the harsher voice of the sailor. Equally unheard by him had been the scream coming across the water, though along with it he might have heard the utterance of his own name ! As none of these sounds had been sufficient to arouwe him from his torpor, he was likely to remain for some time longer unconscious of what was occurring. The sailor swam in silence, — the cries of the child, now more distant, were growing feebler and feebler ; while little William — Snow- ball's only companion upon the raft — was too much ab- 102 THE OCEAN WAIFS. lorbed in the scene and its issue to allow even a breath U escape fiim- «"< In this moment of agor.y, — intense to all the others of the Catamaran's crew, — Snowball was sleeping as soundly and sweetly as if he had been stretched along the bench of his cabocse, and rocked to rest by the undulations of a good ship going at easy sail. Up to this time, William had not thought of awakening him ; for, to say the truth, the boy had not yet quite re- covered his presence of mind. The shock of consternation caused by the accident was still vibrating through his brain ; and his actions, in running aft, and springing up on the cask, were half mechanical. There, enchained by the spectacle, and waiting with intense anxiety for its denouement, he had not a thought to give either to Snowball or his slumberings. The silence continued only for a short period of time, though it may have seemed long enough both to actors and spectator in that thrilling drama. It was terminated by a cry of joyous import from the lips of little William, — in short, a loud hurrah, evoked by his seeing the swimmer come en rapport with the child, raise her sinking form above the surface, and holding it in one hand, strike out with the other in the direction of the raft. CHAPTER XXIX. SAVED ! « TT>RAVE Ben! — brave fellow! he tas sa\ed her I Jj Hurrah!" Whether it was the violent gestures that accompanied this sbullition of feeling that caused the water-cask to lurcb SAVED- 103 from under his feet, — or whether it arose from his nervous system suddenly becoming relaxed after such a spell of intense anxiety, — certain it is that the sailor-lad, as he repeated the final "Hurrah!" lost his balance upon the Mask, and, staggering over, he fell with all his weight upon the prostrate body of the slumbering sea-cook. The latter, in his sleep more sensible to touch than hear- ing, was at length aroused. " Gorramity ! " cried he, suddenly starting to his knees, and endeavoring to disembarrass himself of the weight of little William, still scrambling upon his back. "Gorramity! What all dis fraca 'bout ? Someb'dy shout ' Hurrah ? * — Ha ! you, lilly Willy ? you shout dat jess now ? I tink I hear ye in ma 'leep. What for you hurrah ? Golly ! am dar a ship in sight? I hope dar am — Wha's Mass' Brace? — wha's de lilly gal? Augh ? " This string of interrogations was put in such rapid succes- sion as to give the lad no opportunity of replying to them. But, indeed, a reply was not needed, as may be deduced from the final ejaculation of the questioner. Snowball, having swept the surface of the Catamaran with a quick, searching glance, and missing from it not only its captain, but — what was of greater moment — his own protege, became equally the victim of surprise and conster- nation. His eye was at once turned towards the water ; and, like all men accustomed to the sea, was intuitively directed stern- ward. The missing individuals could not be elsewhere than in the wake of the craft going under sail. He was soon satisfied of the correctness of his conjecture. On the instant of his turning he beheld Ben Brace, — or rather, only the head of that individual, — just visible above the rippling surface of the sea. Close by was another head of smaller size, with dark ringlets floating on both sides of it, and a tiny arm stretched out and apparently clinging to the shoulder of the seaman. 104 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Snowball needed no one — not even little William-^ tc interpret what he saw. At a glance he comprehended what had occurred during his sleep, — all except the cause. Lit- tle did lie suspect that the disaster had its origin in his own negligence. But it did not need that thought to beget within him a feeling of anxiety, — or, rather, of intense alarm. This feeling did not arise on the instant. Seeing the girl sustained by such a strong swimmer as he knew his old shipmate to be, he had but little fear for the result, — so little that he checked his first impulse, which was to leap overboard and swim to the assistance of both. A moment's reflection, however, satisfied him that there was still danger both for Lalee and her brave rescuer, — a danger which little William while giving utterance to that joyful " Hurrah ! " had not taken into account. The lad had seen the girl picked up by the strong seaman; and, having an unlimited faith in the prowess of his own protec- tor, he had no other thought than that the latter would soon 6wim back to the Catamaran, bearing his light burden along with him. In his joy little William had overlooked the circumstance that the Catamaran was under sail, and moving through the water at a rate of speed that the swiftest swimmer, un- embarrassed with the slightest weight, might in vain attempt to overtake her ! This sinister circumstance, in the excitement of the hour overlooked by the youthful sailor, was even, for a moment, unthought of by the more experienced mariner, — for Snow- ball, in addition to being a sea-cook, was also a competent seaman. Not for long, however, did the latter continue unconscious of the danger. Almost on the instant did he perceive it; and quickly squatting himself in front of the cask, he took hold of the steering-oar, — which he had so culpably neglected, — and, although still ignorant of the fact that his own negligence had caused the disaster, he bent all bis energies towards remedying it THE ZYGJINA. 105 Under the strong arm of the Ooromantee, the Catamaran was fast coming round towards the wind, — and so shorten ing the distance between the swimmer and the craft, — when an object came under the eye of her steersman that caused him to drop the oar as if either his arm had become sud- denly paralyzed, or the piece of rounded ash grasped be- tween his hands had become transformed into a bar of red- hot iron! The former it could not be ; since paralyzed arms could not act, as did those of Snowball on that instant. On drop- ping the oar, his right hand was suddenly carried towards his left thigh, where a long knife hung suspended in its sheath. Upon the hilt of this his fingers rested for a mo- ment, evidently not with the intention of drawing it, but apparently to assure himself that the knife was in its place. In an instant the hand was withdrawn; but during the action the negro had hastily risen to his feet ; and, having already abandoned the oar, he rushed towards the edge of the raft and leaped overboard into the water ! CHAPTER XXX. THE ZYG^ENA. rTIHE conduct of the Coromantee in thus relinquishing JL the rudder and springing overboard into the sea was inexplicable, — at least, to little William it seemed so for the time. What could be Snowball's object in taking to the water ? The sailor's strength was sufficient to sustain both himself and the little girl. He appeared to have no diffi- culty in holding her above the surface ; and as to getting 5* 10G THE OCEAN WAIFS. back to the raft, Snowball was surely doing more sei v ice in steering the raft towards them ? Had he continued at the rudder a few minutes longer, the Catamaran must have come very near where the swimmer was struggling ; where- as, on his dropping the oar, she once more luffed round, and began to make way in the opposite direction. Little William, however, did not observe this sinister cir- cumstance ; or if he did, it was for the moment driven oul of his mind by one still more sinister, that just then came under his observation. Only for a few seconds had he remained watching the ne- gro, and wondering, with unpleasant thoughts, why the latter before leaping overboard had half drawn the knife from his belt and then resheathed it. Something like a suspicion passed through the mind of the youth. What could the ne- gro want with a knife, if his object was to give help to the swimmer? Could a fiendish conception have occurred to the Coromantee, to lessen the number of those who might require food and water? It is true the suspicion had barely shaped itself in the brain of the boy. Still, it had shaped itself, to be succeeded by a feeling of remorse for the wrong which he had done to Snowball in entertaining it. Almost on the instant did he become conscious of this wrong, by an object coming under his eyes and which at once accounted for the conduct of the Coromantee, that had seemed strange. Snowball was swimming towards Ben Brace, — not to destroy, — but with the intention of saving him. From what ? Was the sailor really in danger of sinking, so as to stand in need of support both for himself and his burden ? Little William did not put such an interrogatory. AH his conjectures were ended. The peril threatening hia patron, — and little Lalee as well, —was plainly outlined THE ZYG^NA. 107 before his eyes, in all its frightful reality. That ilattish. dark disc, with lunetted edge, rising erect above the surface, and cutting keenly through the rippling water, was an object not to be mistaken for any moving thing met with amid the ocean, save the dorsal fin of a shark , and William knew at a glance that such in reality it was. He saw, moreover, it was the same he .wid little Lalee had so late been contemplating in security, — the dreaded zygaena: for through the translucent water he could dis- tinguish its hammer-shaped head, and lurid eyes gleaming out from their protuberant sockets, — hideous to behold! The boy now became spectator, — sole spectator, — of a scene of thrilling, even terrible interest. The characters in the drama were Snowball, the zygaena, and Ben Brace with his burden. Just as William had arrived at the comprehension of the Coromantee's behavior, the dramatis persona were placed relatively to each other in a triangular position, — an isosce- les triangle, in which Snowball 'and the shark represented the angles at the base, while Ben with his charge occupied the apex. The latter point was almost stationary, while both the former were moving towards it in converging lines, fast as shark and man could swim. The situation was easily explained. The zyga3na, hith- erto holding its course ahead of the Catamaran, had become apprised of the catastrophe occurring among the crew. The plash occasioned by little Lalee as she was flung upon the water, and the heavier concussion of Ben's body as he plunged overboard, had reached the monster's ears; and, with that fell instinct peculiar to its tribe, it had suddenly turned in the water, and commenced swimming towards the tfake of the craft ; where it knew that anything, whether human or otherwise, falling overboard, must inevitably drift. While passing the Catamaran towards the wake, Snow- ball had caught sight of its fan-like fin, — whi white man felt more certain of the proximity of his end than did the negro. It is not easy to tell why it was sa Thu 126 THE OCEAN WAIFS. reason may, perhaps, be found in the fact, that the latter had been so often on the edge of the other world, had so ofter escaped entering it, that, despite the impossibility of escaping from his present peril, — to all appearance absolute, — there still lingered in his breast some remnant of hopefulness. Not so with the sailor. From the bosom of Ben Brace every vestige of hope had vanished. He looked upon life as no longer possible. Once or twice the thought had actu- ally entered his mind to put an end to the struggle, and, along with it, the agony of that terrible hour, by suspending the action of his arms, and suffering himself to sink to the bottom of the sea ' He was only restrained from the suicidal act, by the influence of that instinct of our nature, which ab- hors self-destruction, and admonishes, or rather compels us, to abide the final moment when death comes to claim as as its own. Thus, by different circumstances, and under different in fluences, were the three castaways of the Catamaran sus- tained upon the surface of the water, — Lilly Lalee by Snowball, — Snowball, by the slightest ray of hope still lingering in a corner of his black bosom, — the sailor by an instinct causing him to refrain from the committal of that act which, in civilized society, under all circumstances, u considered as a crime. A CHEST AT SEA. ltt CHAPTER XXXVI. A CHEST AT SEA. ALL conversation had come to an end. E\ en the fe* phrases at intervals exchanged between Snowball and the sailor, — the solemn import of which had been zeal- ously kept from the child by their being spoken in French, — were no longer heard. The swimmers, now wellnigh exhausted, had for a long interval preserved this profound silence, partly for the rea- son of their being exhausted, and partly that no change had occurred in the circumstances surrounding them, — nothing that required a renewal of the conversation. The awe of approaching death, — now so near, that twenty minutes or a quarter of an hour might be regarded as the ultimate mo- ment, — held, as if spell-bound, the speech both of Snowball and the sailor. There were no other sounds to interrupt the silence of that solemn moment, — at least none worthy of being men- tioned. The slightest ripple of the water, stirred by a zephyr breeze, as it pkyed against the bodies of the languid swim- mers, might have been heard, but was not heeded. No more did Ihe scream of the sea-mew arrest the attention of any of them, or if it did, it was only to add to the awe which reigned above and around them. In this moment of deep silence and deepest misery, a voice fell upon the ears of the two swimmers that startled both of them, as if it had been a summons from the other world. It sounded sweet as if from the world of eternal joy. There was no mystery in the voice ; it was that of the Lilly Lalee. The child, sustained upon the shoulder of the buoyant black, was in such a position that her eyes were elevated J 28 THE OCEAN WAIFS. over the surface of the water several inches above t.hos* either of him who supported her or the sailor who swam by her s'de. In this situation she had a better view than either; and, as a consequence of this advantage, she saw what was visible to neither, — a dark object floating upon th»t surface of the sea at no great distance from the spot where the exhausted swimmers were feebly struggling to sustain themselves. It was the announcement of this fact that had fallen with such startling effect upon the ears of the two men, simul- taneously rousing both from that torpor of despair which for some time had held possession of them. " Who you see, Lilly Lally ? Who you see ? " exclaimed Snowball, who was the first to interrogate the girl. " Look at 'im 'gain, — look, good lilly gal ! " continued he, at the same time making an effort to elevate the shoulder which gave support to his protege. « Wha be it ? 'T ain't de raff, — de Catamaran ? Eh ? " " No, no," replied the child. " It is n't that. It's a small thing of a square shape. It looks like a box." " A box ? how come dat ? A box ! what de debbel " Shiver my timbers if 't ain't my old sea-kit," interrupted the sailor, rearing himself aloft in the water like a spaniel in search of wounded waterfowl. " Sure as my name 's Ben Brace it be that, an' nothing else ! " "Your sea-chess ?" interrogated Snowball, elevating his woolly cranium above the water, so as also to command a view. " Golly ! I b'lieve it am. How he come dar ? You leff 'im on de raff? " "I did," replied the sailor. "The very last thing I had my hands upon, afore I jumped overboard. Sure I bean't mistaken, — ne'er a bit o' it. It be the old k'lt to a sar tainty." This conversation was carried on in a quick, hurried tonej AN IMPROVISED LIFE-PRESEBVER. 12S und long before it ended, — in fact at the moment of its be- ginning, — the swimmers had once more put themselves in motion, and were striking out in the direction of the object thus unexpectedly presented to their view. CHAPTER XXXVII. AN IMPROVISED LIFE-PRESERVER. WHETHER it should turn out to be the sea-chest of Ben Brace or no, it appeared to be a chest of some sort ; and, being of wood, buoyantly floating on the water, it promised to help in supporting the swimmers, — now so utterly exhausted as to be on the point of giving up, and going to the bottom. If the sailor had entertained any doubts as to the char- acter of the object upon which they were advancing, they were soon brought to an end. It was a sea-chest, — his own, — to him easy of identification. Well knew he that close-fitting canvas cover, which he had himself made for it, rendered waterproof by a coat of blue paint, — well knew he those hanging handles of strong sennit, he had himself plaited and attached to it ; and, as if to provide against any possible dispute about the ownership of the chest, were the letters " B. B.," — the unmistakable initials of Ben Brace, — painted conspicuously upon its side, just under the keyhole, with a " fouled anchor " beneath, with stars and other fan- tastic emblems scattered around, — all testifying to the artistic skill of the owner of the hit. The first thought of the sailor, on recognizing his chest, was that some misfortune had happened to Ihe raft, and that it had gone to pieces. 6* I 130 THE OCEAN WAIFS. ■ Poor little WilFm ! " said he. ■ K that be BO, fan I be all over wi" him." This belief was but of short duration, and was followed bv ■ reflection of a more pleasant kind. "No!" he exclaimed, contradicting his first hypothesis, .n't be that. What could a broke up the raft 3 There 's been no wind, nor rough is could 'a done it. Ha : I have it, S I: 's WUTm 's did this. He 's throwed over the chest in the behopes it might help fl That 's how it 's got here. Huzza for that brave Let's ding on to the kit. There may be hope for us ; Thi> - -- - n was superfluous: for the idea of clinging to the kit was intuitive, and had entered the minds of both swimmers on their first perceiving i:. I: was with tha: thev had simultaneously set themselves in moiion. and com- menced swimming towards it. The chest certainl; to men circumstanced as they were at that moment — 8 more than a straw to be clutched at It was floating I downwards and lid upwards, — just as it might have been placed op^ sown bunk in the :. Fai gaU — and it appeared to be kept steadily balanced in this tion bv the weight of some iron cleeting along the bottom, which acted as ballast. Otherwise the best sat s upon the water, as to show that it mus: - quite - : for the sennit hand'.- - i ■■■■■ tnre those of human beings. Snowball believed them to b( so, and em- 204 THE OCEAN WAIFS. phatically asserted his belief; but Ben was slightly incredu lous and undecided, notwithstanding that he had several times " shivered his timbers " in confirmation of the fact. It was not the possibility of the existence of an island that the sailor disputed. That was possible and probable enough. At the time of which we speak, new islands were constantly turning up in the ocean, where no land was sup- posed to exist; and even at the present hour, when one might suppose that every inch of the sea has been sailed over, the discovery of rocks, shoals, and even unknown islands, is far from unfrequent. It was not the island, therefore, that now puzzled the ex-man-o'-war's-man, but the number of people appearing upon it. Had there been only a score, or a score and a half, he could have explained the circumstance of its being in- habited ; though the explanation would not have been pro- ductive of pleasure either to himself or his companions. In that case he would have believed the moving forms to be the shipwrecked crew of the Pandora who on this ocean islet had found a temporary resting-place ; while the pick- axes, which were being freely employed, would have indi- cated the sinking of wells in search after fresh water. The number of people on the island, however, with other circumstances observed, at once contradicted the idea that it could be the crew of the shipwrecked slaver; and the certainty that it was not these ruffians whom they saw em- boldened the Catamarans in their approach. In spite of appearances, still was the sailor disposed to doubt the existence of an island ; or, at least, that the forma moving to and fro over its surface were those of human beings. Nor could he be cured of his incredulity until the Ca* tamarcw, approaching still nearer to the shore of the doubt- ful islet, enabled him to see and distinguish beyond the THE KING OF THE CANN1I AL ISLANDS. 205 possibility of doubt a flag floating frc m the top of its staff, which rose tall and tapering from the very highest point of land which the place afforded! The flag was of crimson cloth, — apparently a piece of bunting. It floated freely upon the breeze ; which the filmy mist, though half disclosing, could not altogether conceal. The deep red color was too scarce upon the ocean to be mistaken for the livery of any of its denizens. It could not be the tail-feathers of the tropic bird so prized by the chiefs of Polynesia ; nor yet the scarlet pouch of the sea- hawk. It could be nothing else than a " bit o' buntin'." So, at length, believed Ben Brace, and his belief, ex- pressed in his own peculiar patois, produced conviction in the minds of all, that the object extending along a hundred fathoms of the horizon, " must be eyther a rock, a reef, or a island ; and the creeturs movin over it must be men, weemen, an' childer ! " CHAPTER LVII. THE KING OP THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS. TT1HE emphatic declaration of the sailor, — that the dark I disc before them must be an island, and that the up- right forms upon it were those of human beings, — dispelled all doubts upon the subject ; and produced a feeling of wild excitement in the minds of all three of his companions. So strong was this feeling, that they could no longer con- trol themselves ; but gave vent to their emotions in a simul* taneous shout of joy. Acting prudently, they would have reswained that mirth* THE OCEAN WAIFS. .^hibition, for although, for reasons already stated, th« people appearing upon the island could not be the wiaked castaways who had composed the crew of the Pandora, still might they be a tribe of savages equally wicked and mur- derous. Who could tell that it was not a community of Cannibals * No one aboard the Catamaran. It may seem singular that such a thought should have entered the mind of any of the individuals who occupied the raft. But it did occur to some of them ; and to one ot' the four in particular. This was Ben Brace himself. The sailor's experience, so far from destroying the ere deuces of boyhood, — which included the existence of whole tribes of cannibals, — had only strengthened his belief in such anthropophagi. More than strengthened it : for it had been confirmed in every particular. He had been to the Fiji islands, where he had seen their king, Thakombau, — a true descendant of the lineage of " Hokey-Pokey-Winkey-Wum," — with other dignitaries of this man-eating nation. He had seen their huge caldronr; for cooking the flesh of men, — their pots and pans for stew- ing it, — their dishes upon which it was served up, — the knives with which they were accustomed to carve it, — their larders stocked with human flesh, and redolent of human blood! Nay, more; the English sailor had been an eye- witness of one of their grand festivals ; where the bodies of men and women, cooked in various styles, — stewed, roasted and boiled, — had been served out and partaken of by hun- dreds of Thakombau's courtiers ; the sailor's own captain, — the captain of a British frigate, — ay, the commodore of a British squadron, — with cannon sufficient to have blown the island of Viti Vau out of the water, — sitting along side, apparently a tranquil and contented spectator of the horrid ceremonial ! THE KING OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS. 20? It is difficult to account for the behavior of this English- man, the Hon. by name. The only explanation of his conduct one can arrive at is, to believe that his weak mind was fast confined by the trammels of that absurd, but often too convenient, theory of international non-interference, — the most dangerous kind of red-tape that ever tethered tke squeamish conscience of an official imbecile. How different was the action of Wilkes, — that Yankee commander we are so fond of finding fault with ! He, too, paid a visit to the cannibal island of Viti Vau ; and while there, taught both its king and its people a lesson by the fire of his forty-pounders that, if not altogether effective in ex- tinguishing this national but unnatural custom, has terrified them in its practice to this very day. Non-interference, indeed ! International delicacy in the treatment of a tribe of cruel savages ! A nation of man- eaters, — forsooth, a nation ! Why not apply the laws of nationality to every band of brigands who chances to have conquered an independent existence ? Bah I The world is full of frivolous pretences, — drunk with the poison -cup of political hypocrisy. It was not Ben Brace who thus reasoned, but his biogra- pher. Ben's reflections were of a strictly practical character. His belief in cannibalism was complete ; and as the craft to which he had so involuntarily attached himself drifted on towards the mysterious islet, he was not without some misgiv- ings as to the character of the people who might inhabit it. For this reason he would have approached its shores with greater caution ; and he was in the act of enforcing this upon his companions, when his intention was entirely frustrated by the joyous huzza uttered by Snowball ; echoed by little Wil liam ; and chorussed by the childish, feminine voice of Lilly Lalee. The sailor's caution would have come too late, — ev( n had it been necessary to the safety of the Catamaran 7 crew, 208 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Fortunately it was not : for that imprudent shout produced an effect which at once changed the current of the thoughts, not only of Ben Brace, but of those who had given utter ance to it. Their united voices, pealing across the tranquil bosom of the deep, caused a sudden change in the appearance of the island ; or rather among the people who inhabited it. If human beings, they must be of a strange race, — very strange indeed, — to have been furnished with wings! How otherwise could they have forsaken their footing on terra firma, — if the island was such, — and soared upward into the air, which one and all of them did, on hearing that shout from the Catamaran ? There was not much speculation on this point on the part of the Catamaran's crew. Whatever doubts may have been engendered as to the nature of the island, there could be no longer any about the character of its inhabitants. " Dey am birds ! " suggested the Coromantee ; " nuffin more and nuffin less dan birds ! " " You 're right, Snowy," assented the sailor. " They be birds ; and all the better they be so. Yes ; they 're birds, for sartin. I can tell the cut o' some o' their jibs. I see frig- ates, an' a man-o'-war's-man, an' boobies among 'em ; and I reckon Old Mother Carey has a brood o' her chickens there. They be all sizes, as ye see." It was no more a matter of conjecture, as to what kind of creatures inhabited the island. The forms that had been mystifying the crew of the Catamaran, though of the biped class, were no longer to be regarded as human beings, or even creatures of the earth. They had declared themselves denizens of the air ; and, startled by the shouts that had reached them, — to them, no doubt, sounds strange, and never before heard, — they had sought security in an ele- ment into which there was no fear of being followed by their enemies, either of the earth or the water. VERY LIKE A WHALE. 201 CHAPTER LVIII VERY LIKE A WHALE. THOUGH the birds by their flight had dissolved one half of the speculative theory which the crew of the Catamaran had constructed, the other half still held good. The island was still there, before their eyes ; though com- pletely divested of its inhabitants, — whose sudden eviction had cost only a single shout ! The flag was still waving over it ; though, to all appear- ance, there was not a creature on shore that might feel pride in saluting that solitary standard ! There could be no one ; else why should the birds have tarried so long undisturbed, to be scared at last by the mere sound of human voices ? Since there was nobody on the island, there was no need to observe further caution in approaching it, — except so far as regarded the conduct of their craft ; and in the belief that they were about to set foot upon the shores of a desert isle, the sailor and Snowball, with little William assisting them, now went to work with the oars and hastened their approach to the land. Partly impelled by the breeze, and partly by the strength of the rowers, the Catamaran moved briskly through the water ; and, before many minutes had elapsed, the craft was within a few hundred fathoms of the mysterious island, and still gliding nearer to it. This proximity, — along with the fact that the morning mist had meanwhile been gradually becoming dispelled by the rays of the rising sun, — enabled her crew to obtain a clearer view of the object before them ; and Ben Brace, suspending his exertions at the oar, once moxe slewed him« self round to have a fresh look at the sup] vsed land 210 THE OCEAN WAIFS. " Land ! he exclaimed, as soon as his eyes again rested npon it. " A island, indeed ! Shiver my timbers if 't be a island after all! That be no land, — ne'er a bit o't. It look like a rock, too ; but there be something else it look liker; an' that be a whale. Tis wery like a whale!" "Berry, — berry like a whale!" echoed Snowball, not too well satisfied at discovering the resemblance. " It be a whale ! " pronounced the sailor, in a tone of em phatic confidence, — "a whale, an' nothin' else. Ay," he continued speaking, as if some new light had broken upon him, " I see it all now. It be one o' the great spermacety whales. I wonder I did n't think o't afore. It 's been killed by some whaling-vessel ; and the flag you see on its back's neyther more nor less than one o' their ivhifls. They 've stuck it there, so as they might be able to find the sparmacety when they come back. Marcy heaven ! I hope they will come back." As Ben finished this explanatory harangue, he started into an erect attitude, and placed himself on the highest part of the Catamaran's deck, — his eyes no longer bent upon the whale, but, with greedy glances, sweeping the sea around it. The object of this renewed reconnoissance may be under- stood from the words to which he had given utterance, — the hope expressed at the termination of his speech. The whale must have been killed, as he had .-aid. He was look- ing for the whaler. For full ten minutes he continued his optical search over the sea, — until not a fathom of the surface had escaped h'j- scrutiny. At first his glances had expressed almost a confident hope ; and, observing them, the others became excited to a high degree of joy. Gradually, however, the old shadow returned over the sailor's countenance, and was instantly transferred to the faces of his companions VERY LIKE A WHALE 211 The sea, — as far as his eye could command a view of it, — showed neither sail, nor any other object. Its shining surface was absolutely without a speck. With a disappointed air, the captain of the Catamaran descended from his post of observation; and once mor6 turned his attention to the dead cachalot from which they were now separated by less than a hundred fathoms, — a distance that was constantly decreasing, as the raft, under sail, continued to drift nearer. The body of the whale did not appear anything like as large as when first seen. The mist was no longer producing its magnifying effect upon the vision of our adventurers ; but although the carcass of the cachalot could no more have been mistaken for an island, still was it an object of enormous dimensions ; and might easily have passed for a great black rock standing several fathoms above the surface of the sea. It was over twenty yards in length ; and, seen sideways from the raft, of course appeared much longer. In five minutes after, they were close up to the dead whale ; and, the sail being lowered, the raft was brought to. Ben threw a rope around one of the pectoral fins ; and, after making it fast, the Catamaran lay moored alongside the cachalot, like some diminutive tender attached to a huge ship of war ! There were several reasons why Ben Brace should mount up to the summit of that mountain of whalebone and blubber; and, as soon as the raft had been safely secured, he essayed the ascent. It was not such a trifling feat, — this climbing upon the carcass of the dead whale. Nor was it to be done without danger. The slippery epidermis of the huge leviathan, — lubricated as it was with that unctuous fluid w 7 hich the skin of the speim- whale is know r n to secrete, — rendered footing upon it extremely insecure. It might be fancied no great matter for a swinuoer lik* 212 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Ben Brace; to slide off: since a fall of a few feet into the water could not cause him any great bodily hurt. But when the individual forming this fancy has been told that there was something like a score of sharks prowling around the carcass, he will obtain a more definite idea of the danger to which such a fall would have submitted the adventurous seaman. Ben Brace was the last man to be cowed by a trifling danger, or even one of magnitude ; and partly by Snowball's assistance, and using the pectoral flipper to which the raft was attached as a stirrup, he succeeded in mounting upon the back of the defunct monster of the deep. As soon as he had steadied himself in his new position, a piece of rope was thrown up to him, — by which Snowball was himself hoisted to the shoulders of the cachalot; and then the two seamen proceeded towards the tail, — or, as the sailor pronounced it, the " starn " of this peculiar craft. A little aft of " midships " a pyramidal lump of fatty substance projected several feet above the line of the ver- tebrae. It was the spurious or rudimentary dorsal fin, with which the sperm-whale is provided. On arriving at this protuberance, — which chanced to be the highest point on the carcass where the flag was elevated on its slender shaft, — both came to a halt ; and there stood together, gazing around them over the glittering surface of the sunlit sea. ABOARD THE BODY OF A WHALE. 213 CHAPTER LIX. , ABOARD THE BODY OF A WHALE. THE object of their united reconnoissance was the same which, but a few moments before, had occupied the attention of the sailor. They weie standing on the dead body of a whale that had been killed by harpoons. Where were the people who had harpooned it ? After scanning the horizon with the same careful scrutiny as before, the sailor once more turned his attention to the huge leviathan, on whose back they were borne. Several objects not before seen now attracted the atten- tion of himself and companion. The tall flag, known among whalers by the name of " whift," was not the only evidence of the manner in which the cachalot had met its death. Two large harpoons were seen sticking out of its side, their iron arrows buried up to the socket in its blubber; while from the thick wooden shanks, protruding beyond the skin, were lines extending into the water, at the ends of which were large blocks of wood floating like buoys upon the surface of the sea. Ben identified the latter as the " drogues," that form part of the equipment of a regular whale-ship. He knew them well, and their use. Before becoming a man-o'-war's-man, he had handled the harpoon ; and was perfectly au fait to all connected with the calling of a whaler. " Yes," resumed he, on recognizing the implements of his ti-devant profession, "it ha' been jest as I said. A whaler's been over this ground, and killed the spermacety. Maybe I'm wrong about that," he added, after reflecting a short while. " I may be wrong about the ship being over this very ground. I don't like the look o' them drogues." a De drogue?" inquired the Coromantee. " Dem block 214 THE OCEAN WAIFS. »' wood dat am drimn' about ? Wha' for you no like dem, Massa Brace?." " But for their bein' thear I could say for sartin a ship had been here." " Must a' been ! " asserted Snowball. " If no', how you count for de presence ob de flag and de hapoons ? " " Ah ! " answered the sailor, with something like a sigh ; * they kud a' got thear, without the men as throwed 'em bein' anywhere near this. You know nothin' o' whalin', Snowy." This speech put Snowball in a quandary. " You see, nigger," continued the sailor, " tne presence o' them drogues indercates that the whale war n't dead when the boats left her." (The ci-devant whaler followed the fashion of his former associates, in speaking of the whale, among whom the epicene gender of the animal is always feminine.) " She must a' been still alive," continued he, " and the drogues were put thear to hinder her from makin much way through the water. In coorse there must a' been a school o' the spermacetys ; and the crew o' the whaler did n't want to lose time with this 'un, which they had wounded. For that reason they have struck her with this pair o' droguei harpoons ; and stuck this whift into her back. On fust seem' that, I war inclined to think different. You see the whift be stickin' a'most straight up, an' how could that a' been done by them in the boats? If the «rhale had n't a' been dead, nobody would a' dared to a clombed on to her an' fix the flag that way." u You are right dar," interrupted Snowball. "No," rejoined the sailor, "I ain't. I thought I war; but I war wrong, as you be now, Snowy. You see the flag-spear ain't straight into the back o' the anymal. It 's to one side, though it now stand nearly on top ; because the bodj o' the whale be canted over a bit. A first-rate ' heads- man o' a whale-boat could easily a' throwed it that way ABOARD THE BODY OF A WUALE. 2U from the bottom o bis boat, and that 's the way it ha' been done." " Spose 'im hab been jest dat way," assented Snowball. u But wha' matter 'bout dat ? De whale ham been kill all de same." " What matter ? Everything do it matter." "'Splain, Massa Brace!" " Don't ye see, nigger, that if the spermacety had been dispatched while the boats were about it, it would prove that the whale-ship must a' been here while they were a killin' the creature ; an' that would go far to prove that she could n't be a great ways off now." " So dat wud, — so im wud, fo' sa'tin sure." " Well, Snowy, as the case stands, thear be no sartinty where the whaler be at this time. The anyraal, after being drogued, may a' sweemed many a mile from the place where she war first harpooned. I 've knowed 'em to go a score o' knots afore they pulled up; an' this bein' a' old bull, — one o' the biggest spermacetys I ever see, — she must a* sweemed to the full o' that distance afore givin' in. If that 's been so, thear ain't much chance o' eyther her or we bein' overhauled by the whaler." As the sailor ceased speaking he once more directed his glance over the ocean ; which, after another minute and careful scrutiny of the horizon, fell back upon the body of the whale, with the same expression of disappointment that before had been observable. 216 THE OCEAN WAIFS. CHAPTER LX. A CURIOUS CUISINE. DURING all that day, the sailor and the ex -cook of the Pandora kept watch from the summit of the dead cachalot. It was not altogether for this purpose they remained there, — since the mast of the Catamaran would have given them an observatory of equal and even greater elevation. There were several reasons why they did not cast off from the carcass, and continue their westward course : the most important being the hope that the destroyers of the whale might return to take possession of the valuable prize which they had left behind them. There was, moreover, an undefined feeling of security in lying alongside the leviathan, — almost as great as they mi"ht have felt if anchored near the beach of an actual island, — and this had some influence in protracting theii stay. But there was yet another motive which would of itself have caused them to remain at their present moorings for a considerable period of time. During the intervals of their protracted vigil, they had not been inattentive to the objects immediately around them: and the carcass of the whale had come in for a share of their consideration. A consultation had been held upon it, which had resulted in a determination not to leave the le- viathan until they had rendered its remains, or at least a portion of them, useful for some future end. The old whaleman knew that under that dark epidermis over which, for two days, they had been recklessly treading, there were many valuable substances that might be made available to theii use and comfort, on board the Catamaran. A CURIOUS COSINE. 217 First, there was the " blubber," which, if boiled or " tried," tfould, from the body of an old bull like that, yield, at the very least, a hundred barrels of oil. This they cared nothing about : since they had neither the pots to boil, the casks to hold, nor the craft tr carry it, — even if rendered into oil for the market. But Ben knew that within the skull of the cachalot there wa3 a deposit of pure sperm, that needed no preparation, which would be found of service to them in a Avay they had already thought of. This sperm could be reached by simply removing the "junk" which forms the exterior portion of a cachalot's huge snout, and sinking a shaft into the skull. Here would, or should, be found a cavity filled with a delicate cellular tissue, containing ten or a dozen large barrels full of the purest spermaceti. They did not stand in need of anything like this quantity. A couple of casks would suffice for their need ; and these they desired to obtain for that want which had suggested itself to both Snowball and the sailor. They had been long suffering from the absence ef fuel, — not wherewith to warm themselves, — but as a means of enabling them to cook their food. They need suffer no longer. With the spermaceti to be extracted from the " case " of the cachalot, they could lay in a stock that would last them for many a day. They had their six casks, — five of them still empty. By using a couple of them to contain the oil, the raft would still be sufficiently buoyant to carry all hands, and not a bit less worthy of the sea. Both of these brave men had observed the repugnance with which Lilly Lalee partook of their raw repasts. Nothing but hunger enabled her to eat what they could set before her. It had touched the feelings of both ; and rendered them desirous of providing her with some kind of food more congenial to the delicate palate of the child. 10 218 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Long before they had any intention of abandoning th« dead body of the whale, — in fact shortly after taking pos- session of it, — Ben Brace, assisted by Snowball and little William, — the latter having also mounted upon the mon- oter's back, — cut open the great cavity of the " case " with the axe ; and then inserting a large tin pot, — which had turned up in the sailor's sea-kit, — drew it out again full of liquid spermaceti. This was carried down to the deck of the Catamaran^ when the process of making a fire was instantly proceeded with. By means of some untwisted strands of tarry rope, in- geniously inserted into the oil, the pot was converted into a sort of open lamp, — which only required to be kindled into a flame. But Ben Brace had not been smoking a pipe for a period of nearly thirty years, without being provided with the means of lighting it. In the same depository from which the tin pot had been obtained was found the proper imple- ments for striking a light, — flint, steel, and tinder, — and, as the latter, within the water-tight compartment of the man-o'-war's-man's chest, having been preserved perfectly dry, there was no difficulty in setting fire to the oil. It was soon seen burning up over the rim of the pot with a bright clear flame ; and a large flake of the dried fish being held over the blaze, in a very short space of time be- came done to a turn. This furnished all of them with a meal much more palit able than any they had eaten since they had been forced tc flee from the decks of the burning Pandcra. AN ASSEMBLY OF SHARKS. 219 CHAPTER LXI. AN ASSEMBLY OF SHARKS. AS the spermaceti in the pot still continued to blaze up, — the wick not yet having burnt out, — it occurred to Snowball to continue his culinary operations, and broil a sufficient quantity of the dead fish to serve for supper. The ex-cook, unlike most others of his calling, did not like to see his fuel idly wasted : and therefore, in obedience to the thought that had suggested itself, he brought forth another flake of shark flesh, and submitted to the flames, as before. While observing him in the performance of this pi evident task, a capital idea also occurred to Ben Brace. Since it was possible thus to cook their supper in advance, why not also their breakfast for the following morning, then dinner for the day, their supper of to-morrow night, — in short, all the raw provisions which they had on their hands ? By doing this, not only would a fire be no longer necessary, but the fish so cooked, — or even thoroughly dried in the blaze and smoke, — would be likely to keep better. In fact, fish thus preserved, — as is often done with herrings, ling, cod- fish, mackerel, and haddock, — will remain good for months without suffering the slightest taint of decomposition. It was an excellent idea; and, Ben having communicated it to the others, it was at once determined that it should be carried out. There was no fear of their running short in the staple article of fuel. Ben assured them that the " case " of a cachalot of the largest size, — such as the one beside them, — often contained five hundred gallons of the liquid sper- maceti ! Besides, there was the enormous quantity of junk and blubber, — whole mountains of it, — both of which could be rendered into oil by a process which the whaleri 220 THE OCEAN WAIFS. term "trying." Other inflammable substances, too, are found in the carcass of the sperm-whale : so that, in the article of fuel, the crew of the Catamaran had been unex- pectedly furnished with a stock by which they might keep up a blazing lire for the whole of a twelvemonth. It was no longer any scarcity of fuel that could hinder them from cooking on a large scale, but a scantiness of the provisions to be cooked ; and they were now greatly troubled at the thought of their larder having got so low. While Ben Brace and Snowball stood pondering upon this, and nutually murmuring their regrets, a thought sud- denly came into the mind of the sailor which was calculated to give comfort to all. " As for the provisions in our locker," said he, " we can easily 'plenish them, such as they be. Look there, nigger There be enough raw meat to keep ye a' cookin' till your wool grows white." The sailor, as he said this, simply nodded toward the sea. It needed no further pointing out to understand what he meant by the phrase " raw meat." Scores of sharks, — both of the blue and white species, — attended by their pilots and suckers, were swimming around the carcass of the cachalot. The sea seemed alive with them. Scarce a square rod, within a circle of several hundred fathoms' circumfer- ence, that did not exhibit their stiff, wicked-looking dorsal fins cutting sharply above the surface. Of course the presence of the dead whale accounted for this unusual concourse of the tyrants of the deep. Not that they had any intention of directing their attack upon it: for, from the peculiar conformation of his mouth, the shark is incapable of feeding upon the carcass of a large whale. But having, no doubt, accompanied the chase at the time the cachalot had been harpooned, they were now staying by a dead body, from an instinct that told them its destroyeri All ASSEMBLY OF SHARKS 221 would return, and supply them with its flesh m convenient morsels, — while occupied in flensing it. " Ugh ! " exclaimed the sailor ; " they look hungry enough to bite at any bait we may throw out to them. We won't have much trouble in catchin' as many o' 'em as we want." " A doan b'lieve, Massa Brace, we hab got nebba such a ting as a shark-hook 'board de Cafmaran" " Don't make yourself uneasy 'bout that," rejoined the sailor, in a confident tone. " Shark-hook be bio wed ! I see somethin' up yonder worth a score o* shark-hooks. The brutes be as tame as turtles turned on their backs. They 're always so about a dead spermacety. Wi' one o' them ere tools as be stickin' in the side o' the old bull, if I don't pull a few o' them out o' water, I never handled a harpoon, that's all. Ye may stop your cookin' Snowy, an' go help me. When we 've got a few sharks catched an' cut up, then you can go at it again on a more 'stensive scale. Come along, my hearty ! " As Ben terminated his speech, he strode across the deck of the raft, and commenced clambering up on the carcass. Snowball, who perceived the wisdom of his old comrade's design, let go the tlake of fish he had been holding in the blaze; and, parting from the pot, once more followed tha jaiiOi \,j> thv «#i3 surely, — until it rested upon the broad horizontal spac around the summit of that mountain of bones and blubber 226 THE OCEAN WAIFS. CHAPTER LXIII. A HARPOON WELL HANDLED. IT was come time before either his breath or the tranquil lity of his spirits was restored to the Coromantee. The sailor was equally suffering from the loss of the for* mer ; and both remained for a good many minutes without taking any further steps towards the accomplishment of the design which had brought them on the back of the whale. As soon, however, as Snowball could find wind enough for a few words, they were uttered in a tone of gratitude, — first to Ben, who had hindered him from sinking down into something worse than a watery grave ; and then to little William, who had aided in raising him up from it. Ben less regarded the old comrade whom he had rescued than the young one who had been instrumental in aiding him. He stood gazing upon the youth with eyes that expressed a lively satisfaction. The promptitude and prowess which his protege had ex- hibited in the affair was to him a source of the greatest gratification. Many a boy old as he, — ay. older, thought Ben Brace, — instead of having the sense shown by the lad in promptly running to the rescue, would have remained upon the raft in mute surprise ; or. at the best, have evinced tis sympathy by a series of unserviceable shouts, or a contir ued and idle screaming. Ben did not wish to spoil his protege by any spoken for- mula of praise, and therefore he said nothing : though, from his glances directed towards little \Yilliam, it was easv to see that the bosom of the brave tar was swelling with a fond pride in the youth, for whom he had long felt an affection almost equalling that of a father. A HARPOON WELL HANDLED. 227 After indulging a short while in the mutual congratula- tions that naturally follow such a crisis of danger, all three proceeded to the execution of the duty so unexpectedly in terrupted. William had succeeded Snowball in that simple culinary operation which the latter, commanded by his captain, had so suddenly relinquished. The lad now returned to the raft, partly to complete the process of broiling the fish ; but perhaps with a greater de- sire to tranquillize the fears of Lilly Lalee, — who, ignorant of the exact upshot of what had transpired, was yet in a state of unpleasant agitation. Ben only waited for the return of his breath; and as soon as that was fairly restored to him, he once more set about the design that had caused him for the second time to climb upon the back of the cachalot. Taking the harpoon from the hands of the Corowantee, — who still kept clutching it, as if there was danger in letting it go, — the sailor proceeded to draw up the drogue Assisted by Snowball, he soon raised it out of the water, and hoisted it to the horizontal platform, on which tb^.y had placed themselves. He did not want the block of wood just then, — only the line tied to it ; and this having been detached, the drogue was left lying upon the carcass. Armed with the harpoon, the ci-devant whaleman now took a survey, — not of the land, but of the sea around him. There was an assemblage of sharks close in to the body of the whale, — at the spot where they had so lately threat- ened Snowball. Some of them had since scattered away, with a full con- sciousness of their disappointment; but the greater number had stayed, as if unsatisfied, or expecting that the banquet that had been so near their noses might be brought back to them. 228 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Ben's purpose was to harpoon some half-dozen of these ill-featured denizens of the deep, and with their flesh replen- ish the stores of the Catamaran; for repulsive as the brutes may appear to the eye, and repugnant to the thoughts, they nevertheless, — that is, certain species of them, and certain parts of these species, — afford excellent food : such as an epicure, — to say nothing of a man half- famished, — may eat with sufficient relish. There could have been no difficulty in destroying any of the sharks so late threatening to swallow Snowball, had the harpooner been able to get within striking distance of them. But the slippery skin of the whale deterred the sailor from trusting himself on that dangerous incline; and he deter- mined, therefore, to try elsewhere. In the direction of the cachalots tail the descent was gradual. Scarcely perceptible was its declination towards the water, upon which lay the two great flukes, slightly sunk below the surface, and extending on each side to a breadth of many yards. There were several sharks playing around the tail of the cachalot They might come within the pitch of a harpoon. If not, the old whaleman knew how to attract them within easy reach of that formidable weapon. Directing Snowball to bring after him some of the pieces of blubber, — which, in cutting out the harpoon, had been detached from the carcass, — Ben proceeded towards the tail. Here and there as he advanced, with the sharp edge of the harpoon blade, he cut out a number of ho^s in the spongy skin, in order to give both himself and his follower a more sure footing on the slimy surface. At the point where he intended to take his stand, — close in by the "crutch" of the cachalot's tail-fin, — he made three excavations with more care. At length, satisfied with his preparations, he stood, with pointed harpoon, waiting for one of the sharks to come within striking distance. The? A HARFOON WELL HANDLED. 229 * fought shy" at first; but the old whaleman knew a way of overcoming their shyness. It only required that "chunk" of blubber, held in the hands of Snowball, to be thrown into the water, and simultaneous with the plunge a score of sharks would be seen rushing, open-mouthed, to seize upon it. This in effect was precisely what transpired. The blubber was dropped into the sea, close as possible to the carcass of the whale, — the sharks came charging towards it, — nearly twenty of them. The same number, however, did not go back as they had come; for one of them, impaled by the harpoon of Ben Brace, was dragged out of his native element, and hauled up the well-greased incline towards the highest point on the carcass of the cachalot There, notwithstanding his struggles and the desperate as well as dangerous fluking of his posterior fins, he was soon despatched by the axe, wielded with all the might and dex- terity which the Coromantee could command. Another shark was " hooked," and then despatched in a similar fashion ; and then another and another, until Ben Brace believed that enough shark-flesh had been obtained to furnish the Catamaran with stores for the most prolonged voyage. At all events, they would now have food — such as it was — to last as long as the water with which the hand of Provi- dence alone seemed to have provided them. £30 THE OCEAN WAIFS. CHAPTER LXIV. THE THICK WATERS. FT! HE most palatable portions of the sharks' flesh having I been stripped from the bones and cut into thin slices, were now to be submitted to a drying, or rather broiling process. This was to be accomplished by a fire of sper- maceti. As already stated, there was no scarcity on the score of this fuel. The "case" of the cachalot contained enougfc to have roasted all the sharks within a circle of ten milea around it ; and, to all appearance, there were hundreds of them inside that circumference. Indeed, that part of the ocean where the dead whale had been found, though far from any land, is at all times most prolific in animal life. Sometimes the sea for miles around a ship will be seen swarming with fish of various kinds, while the air is filled with birds. In'the water may be seen large " schools " of whales, " basking " — as the whalers term it — at intervals, "spouting" forth their vaporous breath, or moving slowly onward, — some of them, every now and then, exhibiting their uncouth gambols. Shoals of porpoises, albacores, bo- nitos, and other gregarious fishes will appear in the same place, — each kind in pursuit of its favorite prey, while sharks, threshers, and sword-fish, accompanied by their "pilots" and "suckers," though in lesser numbers, here also abound, — from the very abundance of the species on which these sea-monsters subsist. " Flocks " of flying-fish sparkle in the sun with troops of bonitos gliding watchful below, while above them the sky will sometimes be literally clouded with predatory birds, — gulls, boobies, gannets, tropic and frigate-birds, albatrosses, and a score of other kinds but little known, and as yet undescribed by the nat* uralist. THE THICK WATERS. 231 It may be asked why so many creatures of different kinds congregate in this part of the ocean ? Upon what do they subsist ? what food can they find so far from land ? A ready reply to these questions may be given, by saying, that they subsist upon each other ; and this would be, to some extent, true. But then there must be a base forming the food for all, and produced by some process of nature. What process can be going on in the midst of the ocean to furnish the subsistence of such myriads of large and vora- cious creatures ? In the waters of the great deep, appar- ently so pure and clear, one would think that no growth, — either animal or vegetable, could spring up, — that nothing could come out of nothing. For all this, in that pure, clear water, there is a continual process of production, — not only from the soil at the bottom of the sea, but the salt water itself contains the germs of material substances, that sus- tain life, or become, themselves, living things, by what ap- pears, to our ignorant eyes, spontaneous production. There is no spontaneity in the matter. It is simply the principje of creation, and acting under laws and by ways that, however ill-understood by us, have existed from the beginning of the world. It is true that the whole extent of the great oceans are not thus thickly peopled. Vast tracts may be traversed, where both fish and birds of all kinds are extremely scarce ; and a ship may sail for days without seeing an individual of either kind. A hundred miles may be passed over, and the eye may not be gratified by the sight of a living thing, — either in the water or the air. These tracts may truly be termed the deserts of the sea ; like those of the land, appar- ently uninhabited and uninhabitable. It may be asked, "Why this difference, since the sea seems all alike ? The cause lies not in a difference of depth : for the tracts that teem with life are variable in this respect, — sometimes only a few fathoms in profundity, and sometime* unfathomable. 232 THE OCEAN WAIFS. The true explanation must be sought for elsewhere, h will be found not in depth, but in direction, — in the direc- tion of the currents. Every one knows that the great oceans are intersected here and there by currents, — often hundreds of miles in breadth, but sometimes narrowing to a width of as many "knots." These oceanic streams are regular, though not regularly defined. They are not caused by mere temporary storms, but by winds having a constant and regular direc- tion ; as the " trades " in the Atlantic and Pacific, the " mon- soons " in the Indian Ocean, the " pamperos " of South Amer- ica, and the " northers " of the Mexican Gulf. There is another cause for these currents, perhaps of more powerful influence than the winds, yet less taken into ac- count. It is the spinning of the earth on its axis. Un- doubtedly are the " trades * indebted to this for their direc tion towards the west,— the simple centrifugal tendency of the atmosphere. Otherwise, would these winds blow due northward and southward, coming into collision on the line of the equator. But it is not my purpose to attempt a dissertation either on winds or oceanic streams. I am not learned enough for this, though enough to know that great misconception pre- vails on this subject, as well as upon that of the tides ; and .that meteorologists have not given due credit to the revolv- ing motion of our planet, which is in truth the principal pro- ducer of these phenomena. Why I have introduced the subject at all is, not because our little book is peculiarly a book of the ocean, but, because that ocean currents have much to do with " Ocean Waifs," and that these last afford the true explanation of the phe- nomenon first mentioned, — the fact that some parts of the ocean teem with animal life, while others are as dead as a desert. The currents account fcr it, thus: — where two of them meet, — as is often the case, — vast quantities of THE THICK WATERS. 233 material substances, both vegetable and animal, are drifted together ; where they are held, to a certain extent, station- ary ; or circling around in great ocean eddies. The wrack of sea-weed, — waifs from the distant shores, — birds that have fallen lifeless into the ocean, or drop their excrement to float on its surface, — fish that have died of disease, vio- lence, or naturally, — for the finny tribes are not exempt from the natural laws of decay and death, — all these organ- isms, drifted by the currents, meet upon the neutral " ground," — there to float about, and furnish food to myriads of living creatures, — many species of which are, to all appearance, scarce organized more highly than the decomposed matters that appear first to give them life, and afterwards sustain their existence. In such tracts of the ocean are found the lower marine animals, in incalculable numbers ; the floating shell-fish, as Janthina, Hyalcea, and Cleodora ; the sea-lizards, as Velellce, Porpitce, and their kindred ; the squids, and other mollusks ; with myriads of medusce. These are the oceanic regions known to the sailors as " thick waters," the favorite resort of the whale and its con- comitant creatures, whose food they furnish ; the shark, and its attendants ; the dolphins, porpoises, sword- and flying- fish ; with other denizens of the water ; and a like vai >ty of dwellers in the air, hovering above the surface, either as the enemies of those below, or aids to assist tl? p m in composing the inscrutable " chain of destruction,," %M THE OCEAN WAIFS. CHAPTER LXV A WHALE ON FIRE ! PERHAPS we have drifted too far adown the currents of the ocean. From our digression let us return to out special " Waifs." We left them making preparations to roast the shark-flesh, — not in single steaks, but in a wholesale fashion, — as if they had intended to prepare a " fish dinner " for the full crew of a frigate. As already stated, fuel they had in sufficiency ; or, at all events, the best of oil, that would serve as such. The sper- maceti could not be readily kindled, nor its blaze kept up, without wicks. But neither was there any difficulty about this. There was a quantity of old rope trash on the raft, which had been fished up among the wreck of the Pandora, and kept in case of an emergency. It needed only to re- store this to its original state of tarry fibre, when they would be provided with wick enough to keep the lamp long burning. It was the lamp itself, or rather the cooking fur- nace, that caused them uneasiness. They had none. The tiny tin vessel that had already served for a single meaf would never do for the grand roti they now designed making With it, along with time and patience, they might have ac- complished the task ; but time to them was too precious to be so wasted ; and as to patience, — circumstanced as they vyere, it could scarcely be expected. They stood in great need of a cooking-stove. There was nothing on board the Catamaran that could be used as a substitute. Indeed, to have kindled such a fire as thev wanted on the raft, — without a proper material for their hearth, — would have seriously endangered the existence of the craft ; and might have terminated in a conflagration. It was a dilemma that had not suggested itself sooner, — A WHALE ON FIRE. 235 that is, until the shark-steaks had been made ready for roasting. Then it presented itself to their contemplation in full force, and apparently without any loophole to escape from it. What was to be done for a cooking-stove ? Snowball sighed as he thought of his caboose, with all its paraphernalia of pots and pans, — especially his great cop- per, in which he had been accustomed to boil mountains of meat and oceans of pea-soup. But Snowball was not the individual to give way to vain regrets, — at least, not for long. Despite that absence of that superior intellect, — which flippant gossips of so-called " Social Science" delight in denying to his race,, themselves often less gifted than he, — Snowball was endowed with rare ingenuity, — especially in matters relating to the cuisine, and in less than ten minutes after the question of a cooking- stove had been started, the Coromantee conceived the idea of one that might have vied with any of the various " pa- tents " so loudly extolled by the ironmongers, and yet not so effective when submitted to the test. At all events, Snowball's plan was suited to the circumstances in which its contriver was placed; and perhaps it was the only one which the circumstances would have allowed. Unlike other inventors, the Coromantee proclaimed th«. plan of his invention as soon as he had conceived it. " Wha' for ? " he asked, as tTie idea shaped itself in his skull, — " wha' for we trouble 'bout a pot fo' burn de oil ? " " What for, Snowy ! " echoed the sailor, turning upon hia interrogator an expectant look. " Why we no make de fire up hya ? " The conversation was carried on upon the back of the whale, — where the sharks had been butchered and cut up. * Up here ! " again echoed the sailor, still showing surprise. "What matter whether it be up here or down theear, so long'i we Ve got no vessel, — neyther pot nor pan ? " 236 THE OCEAN WAIFS. " Doan care a dam fo' neyder," responded the ex-cook u I 'se soon show ye, Mass' Brace, how we find vessel, big 'nuff to hold all de oil in de karkiss ob de ole cashlot, as you call him." " Explain, nigger, explain ! " " Sartin I do. Gib me dat axe. I soon 'splain de whole earkumstance." Ben passed the axe, which he had been holding, into the hands of the Coromantee. The latter, as he had promised, soon made his meaning clear, by setting to work upon the carcass of the cachalot, and with less than a dozen blows of the sharp-edged tool hollowing out a large cavity in the blubber. " Now, Mass' Brace," cried he, when he had finished, tri- umphantly balancing the axe above his shoulder, " wha' you call dat ? Dai* 's a lamp hold all de oil we want set blaze. You d'sire me • crow ' de hole any wida or deepa, I soon make 'im deep 's a draw-well an' wide as de track ob a wag- gon. Wha' say, Mass' Brace ? " " Hurraw for you, Snowy ! It be just the thing. I dar say it 's deep enough, and wide as we '11 want it. You ha* got good brains, nigger, — not'ithstanding what them lubbers as they call filosaphurs say. I 'm a white, an' niver thought o' it. This '11 do for the furness we want. Nothin' more needed than to pour the sparmacety into it, chuck a bit o* oakum on the top, an' set all ablaze. Let 's do it, and cook the wittles at once." The cavity, which Snowball had " crowed " in the car- cass of the whale was soon filled with oil taken from the case. In this was inserted with due care a quantity of the fibre, obtained by " picking " the old ropes into oakum. A crane was next erected over the cavity, — a handspike forming one support and an oar the other. The crane itself consisted of the long iron arrow and socket of one of the har poons found in the carcass of the cachalot. THE BIG RAFT. 23'J Upon this was suspended, as upon a spit, so n.any slices of shark-meat as could be accommodated with room * and when all was arranged, a " taper " was handed up from be- low, and the wick set on fire. The tarry strands caught like tinder; and soon after a tierce bright blaze was seen rising several feet above the back of the cachalot, — causing the shark-steaks to frizzle and fry, and promising in a very short space of time to " do them to a turn." Any one who could have witnessed the spectacle from distance, and not understanding its nature, might have fan • cied that the whale was on fire 1 CHAPTER LXVI THE BIG RAFT. WHILE the strange phenomenon of a blazing fire upon the back of a whale was being exhibited to the eyes of ocean-birds and ocean-fishes, — all doubtless wondering what it meant, — another and very different spectacle was occurring scarce twenty miles from the spot, — of course also upon the surface of the ocean. If in the former there was something that might be called comic, there was nothing of this in the latter. On the con- trary, it was a true tragedy, — a drama of death. The stage upon which it was being enacted was a platform of planks and spars, rudely united together, — in short, a raft. The dramatis persona were men, — all men ; although it might have required some stretch of imagination, — aided by a little acquaintanceship with the circumstances that had placed them upon that raft, — to have been certain that they 238 THE OCEAN WAIFS. were human beings. A stranger to them, looking upon them in reality, — or upon a picture, giving a faithful representa- tion of them, — might have doubted their humanity, and mistaken them for fiends. No one could have been blamed for such a misconception. If human beings in shape, and go in reality, thtry were fiends in aspect, and not far from it in mental conformation. Even in appearance they were more like skeletons than men. One actually was a skeleton, — not a living skeleton, but a corpse, clean stripped of its flesh. The ensanguined bones, with some fragments of the cartilage still adhering to them, showed that the despoliation had been recent. The skeleton was not perfect. Some of the bones were absent. A few were lying near on the timbers of the raft, and a few others might have been seen in places where it was horrible to behold them ! The raft was an oblong platform of some twenty feet in length by about fifteen in width. It was constructed out of pieces of broken masts and spars of a ship, upon which was supported an irregular sheeting of planks, the fragments of bulwarks, hatches, cabin-doors that had been wrested from their hinges, lids of tea-chests, coops, and a few other arti- cles, — such as form the paraphernalia of movables on board a ship. There was a large hogshead with two or three small barrels upon the raft ; and around its edge were lashed several empty casks, serving as buoys to keep it above water A single spar stood up out of its centre, or " mid- ships," to which was rigged — in a very slovenly manner — a large lateen sail, — either the spanker or spritsail of a ship, or the mizzen topsail of a bark. Around the " step " of the mast a variety of other objects might have been seen : such as oars, handspikes, pieces of loose boards, some tangled coils of rope, an axe or two, half a dozen tin pots and " tots," — such as are used by sail- ors, — a quantity of shark-bones clean picked, with two of THE BTG RAFT. 239 tLree other bones, like thee already alluded to, and whose size and form told them to be the tibia of a human skele- ton. Between twenty and thirty men were moving amid this miscellaneous collection, — not all moving : for they were in every conceivable attitude, of repose as of action. Some were seated, some lying stretched, some standing, some stag' gering, — as if reeling under the influence of intoxication, or too feeble to support their bodies in an erect attitude. It was not any rocking on the part of the raft that was pro- ducing these eccentric movements. The sea was perfectly quiescent, and the rude embarkation rested upon it like a log. The cause might have been discovered near the bottom of the mast, where stood a barrel or cask of medium size, from which proceeded an exhalation, telling its contents to be rum. The staggering skeletons were drunk! It was not that noisy intoxication that tells of recent in- dulgence, but rather of the nervous wreck which succeeds it ; and the words heard, instead of being the loud banterings of inebriated men, were more like the ravings and gibbering of maniacs. No wonder : since they who uttered them were mad, — mad with mania potu! If they were ever to recover, it would be the last time they were likely to be afflicted by the same disease, — at least on board that embarkation. Not from any virtuous resolve on their parts, but simply from the fact that the cause of their insanity no longer existed. The rum-cask was as dry inside as out. There was no longer a drop of the infernal liquor on tLe raft; no more spirit of any kind to produce fresh drunkenness or renewed delirium tremens ! The madmen were not heeded by the others ; but allowed to totter about, and give speech to their incoherent mum- blings, — sometimes diversified by yells, or peals of 240 THE OCEAN WAIFS. laughter, — always thickly interlarded with oaths and othe* blasphemous utterances. It was only when disturbing the repose of some one less exalted than themselves, or when two of them chanced to come into collision, that a scene would ensue, — in some in- stances extending to almost every individual on the raft, and ending by one or other of the delirious disputants getting " chucked " into the sea, and having a swim before recover- ing foothold on the frail embarkation. This the ducked individual would be certain to do. Drunk as he might have been, and maudlin as he might be, his instincts were never so benumbed as to render him regardless of self-preserva- tion. Even from out his haggard eyes still gleamed enough of intelligence to tell that those dark triangular objects, moving in scores around the raft, and cutting the water, so swift and sheer, were the dorsal fins of the dreaded sharks. Each one was a sight that, to a sailor's eye, even when " blind drunk," brings habitual dread. The douche, and the fright attending it, would usually re- store his reason to the delirious individual, — or, at all events, would have the effect of restoring tranquillity upon the raft, — soon after to be disturbed by some scene of like, or perhaps more terrible, activity. * » # * • The reader, unacquainted with the history of this raft and the people upon it, may require some information concerning them. A few words must suffice for both. As already stated, at the beginning of our narrative, a raft was constructed out of such timbers as could be de- tached from the slave-bark Pandora, — after that vessel had caught fire, and previous to her blowing up. Upon this embarkation the slaver's crew had escaped, leaving her cargo to perish, — some by the explosion, some by drowning, and not a few by the teeth of sharks. The Pandora's captain, along with five others, — including the mates and carpenter,, THE BIG RAFT. 241 — Lad stolen away with the gig. As this was the only boat found available in the fearful crisis of the conflagration, the remainder of the crew had betaken themselves to the large raft, hurriedly constructed for the occasion. As already related, Snowball and the Portuguese girl were the only individuals on board the Pandora who had remained by the wreck, or rather among its debris. There the Coromantee, by great courage and cunning, had succeeded not only in keeping himself and his protege afloat, but in es- tablishing a chance for sustaining existence, calculated to last for some days. It is known also that Ben Brace with Ms protege, having been informed by the captain's parting speech that there was a barrel of gunpowder aboard the burning bark, apprehensive of the explosion, had silently constructed a little raft of his own ; which, after being launched from under the bows of the slaver, he had brought en rapport with the " big raft," and thereto attached it. This " tender," still carrying the English sailor and the boy, had been afterwards cut loose from its larger com- panion in the dead hour of night, and permitted to fall far into the wake. The reason of this defection was simply to save little William from being eaten up by the ex-crew of the Pandora, then reduced to a famished condition, — if we may use the phrase, screwed up to the standard of anthro- pophagy. Since the hour in which the two rafts became separated from each other, the reader is acquainted, in all its minute details, with the history of the lesser : how it joined issue with the embarkation that carried the ex-cook and his pro* ?ge ; how the union with the latter produced a cross be .ween the two, — afterwards yclept the Catamaran; with all the particulars of the Catamaran's voyage, up to the time when she became moored alongside the carcass of the tachalot ; and for several days after. During this time, the " big raft " carrying the crew of the 11 r 242 THE OCEAN WAIFS. burnt bark, — being out of sight, may also have escaped from the reader's mind. Both it and its occupants were still in existence. Not all of them, it is true, but the greater number ; and imong these, the most prominent in strength of body, energy of mind, and wickedness of disposition. It is scarce necessary to say, that the raft now introduced as lying upon the ocean some twenty miles from the dead cachalot, was that which some days before had parted from the Pandora, or that the fiendish forms that occupied it were the remnant of the Pandora's crew. These were not all there : nearly a score of them were absent. The absence of the captain, with five others who had accompanied him in his gig, has been explained. The ex-cook, the English sailor and sailor-boy, with the cabin passenger, Lilly Lalee, have also been accounted for ; but there were several others aboard the big raft, on its first starting " to sea," that were no longer to be seen amidst the crowd still occupying this ungainly embarkation. Half a dozen, — perhaps more, — seemed to be missing. Their absence might have appeared mysterious, to any one who had not been kept " posted " up in the particulars of the ill- directed cruise through which the raft had been passing; though the skeleton above described, and the dissevered tibia scattered around, might have given a clew to their disappearance, — at least, to any one initiated into the shifts and extremities of starvation. To those of less experience, — or less quick comprehension, — it may be necessary to repeat the conversation which was being carried on upon the raft, — at the moment when it is thus reintroduced to the notice of the reader. A correct report of this will satisfactorily explain why its original ere* had been reduced, from over thirty, to the number of six-and twenty, exclusive of the skeleton I A CREW OF CANNIBALS. 243 CHAPTER LXVII. A CREW OF CANNIBALS. * (WLLONS ?" cried a black-bearded man, in whose ^■^ emaciated frame it was not easy to recognize the once corpulent bully of the slave-ship, — the Frenchman, Le Gros. " Allons ! messieurs ! It *s time to try fortune again. Sacre ! we must eat, or die ! " The question may be asked, What were these men to eat ? There appeared to be no food upon the raft. There was non e } — not a morsel of any kind that might properly be called meat for man. Nor had there been, ever since the second day after the departure of the raft from the side of the burning bark. A small box of sea-biscuits, that, when distributed, gave only two to each man, was all that had been saved in their hurried retreat from the decks of the Pandora. These had disappeared in a day. They had brought away water in greater abundance, and caught some since in their shirts, and on the spread sail, — nearly after the same fashion and in the same rain-storm that had afforded the well-timed supply to Ben Brace and his protege. But the stock derived from both sources was on the eve of being exhausted. Only a small ration or two to each man remained in the cask ; but thirsty as most of them might be, they were suffering still more from the kindred appetite of lunger. What did Le Gros mean when he said they must eat ? What food was there on the raft, to enable them to avoid the terrible alternative appended to his proposal, — " eat, or die"? What had kept them from dying : since it was now many days, almost weeks, since they had swallowed the last morsel of biscuit so sparingly distributed amongst them ? The answer to all these interrogatories is one and thi 244 THE OOEAN WAIFS. same. It is too fearful to be pronounced,— awful even to think of! The clean-stripped skeleton lying upon the raft, and which was clearly that of a human being ; the bones scattered about, — some of them, as already observed, held in hand, and in such fashion as to show the horrid use that was being made of them, — left no doubt as to the nature of the food upon which the hungering wretches had been subsisting. This, and the flesh of a small shark, which they had suc- ceeded in luring alongside, and killing with the blow of a handspike, had been their only provision since parting with the Pandora. There were sharks enough around them now. A score, at the very least, might have been quarter- ing the sea, within sight of the raft; but these monsters, strange to say, were so shy, that not one of them would ap- proach near enough to allow them an opportunity of captur- ing it! Every attempt to take them had proved unsuc- cessful. Such of the crew as kept sober had been trying for days. Some were even at that moment engaged with hook and line, angling for the ferocious fish, — their hooka floating far out in the water, baited with human flesh / It was only the mechanical continuation of a scheme that had long since proved to be of no avail, — a sort of despair • ing struggle against improbability. The sharks had taken the alarm ; perhaps from observing the fate of that one of their number that had gone too near the odd embarkation ; or, perhaps, warned, by some mysterious instinct, that, sooner or later, they would make a grand banquet on those who were so eager to feast upon them. In any case, no sharks had been taken, or were likely to be taken ; and once more the eyes of the famishing casta- ways were wolfishly turned upon one another, while their thoughts reverted to that horrible alternative that was to Rave them from starvation. X*e Gros — on board the raft, as upon the deck of thf A CREW OF CANNIBALS. 245 sfcive~ship — still held a sort of fatal ascendency over his comrades ; and with Ben Brace no longer to oppose his des- potic propensities, he had established over his fellow-skele- tons a species of arbitrary rule. His conduct had all along been guided by no more regard for fair-play than was just necessary to keep his subordi- nates from breaking out into open mutiny ; and among these the weaker ones fared even worse than their fellows, bad as that was. A few of the stronger, — who formed a sort of body guard to the bully, and were ready to stand up for him in oase of extremity, — shared his ascendency over the rest ; and to these were distributed larger rations of water, along with the more choice morsels of their horrid food. This partiality had more than once led to scenes, that promised to end in bloodshed; and but for this occasional show of resistance, Le Gros and his party might have estab- lished a tyranny that would have given them full power over the lives of their feebler companions. Things were fast tending in this direction, — merging, as it were, into absolute monarchy, — a monarchy of " canni- bals," of which Le Gros himself would be " king." It had not yet, however, quite come to that, — at least when it be- came a question of life and death. When the necessity arose of finding a fresh victim for their horrible but neces- sary sacrifice, there was still enough republicanism left among the wretches to influence the decision in a just and equitable manner, and cause the selection to be made by lot. When it comes to crises like these, — to questions of life and death, — men must yield up their opposition to the ballot, and acknowledge its equity. Le Gros and his cruel body-guard would have opposed it had they been strong enough, — as do equally cruel politi- cians who are strong enough, — but the bully still doubted the strength of his party. A. proposal so atrocious had been 246 THE OCEAN WAIFS. made , in the case of little William, at the very outset, and had met with but slight opposition. Had it not been for the brave English sailor, the lad would certainly have fallen a sacrifice to the horrid appetites of these horrid men. With one of themselves, however, the case was different. Each had a few adherents, who would not have submitted to such an arbitrary cruelty ; and Le Gros was influenced by the fear of a general " skriinmage," in which more than one life, — among the rest perhaps his own, — might be forfeited. The time for such a high-handed measure had not yet arrived ; and when it came to the question of " Who dies next ? " it was still found necessary to resort to the ballot. That question was once more propounded, — now for the third time, — Le Gros himself acting as the spokesman. No one said anything in reply, or made any sign of being opposed to an answer being given. On the contrary, all appeared to yield, if not a cheerful, at least a tacit assent to what they all knew to be meant for a proposal, — knowing also its fearful nature and consequences. They also comprehended whence the answer was to come. Twice before had they consulted that dread oracle, whose response was certain death to one of their number. Twice before had they recognized and submitted to its decree. No preliminaries needed to be discussed. These had been long ago arranged. There was nothing more to do than cast the lots. On the moment after Le Gros had put the question, a movement was visible among the men to whom it was ad- dressed. One might have expected it to startle them ; but it did not appear to do this, — at least, to any great extent. Some only showed those signs of fear distinguishable by blanched cheeks and white lips ; but there were some too delirious to understand the full import of what was to fol- low ; and the majority of the crew had become too callous with Buffering; to care much even for life ! A CREW OF CANNIBALS. 247 Most that could, however, — for there were some too fee- ble to stand erect, — rose to their feet, and gathered around the challenger, exhibiting both in their words and attitudes, an earnestness that told them not altogether indifferent to death. By a sort of tacit agreement among them, Le Gros acted as master of the ceremonies, — the dispenser of that dread lottery of life and death, in which he himself was to take a share. Two or three of his fellows stood on each side of him, acting as aids or croupiers. Solemn and momentous as was the question to be decided, the mode of decision was simple in the extreme. Le Gros held in his hand a canvas bag, of oblong bolster shape, — such as sailors use to carry their spare suit of " Sunday go-ashores." In the bottom of this bag, — already carefully counted into it, — were twenty-six buttons : the exact number of those who were to take part in the drawing. They were the common black buttons of horn, — each pierced with four holes, — such as may be seen upon the jacket of the merchant gailor. They had been cut from their own garments for the purpose in which they were now, a third time, to be employed, and all chosen so exactly alike, that even the eye would have found it difficult to distinguish one from the other. One, however, offered an exception to this statement. While all its fellows were jet black, it exhibited a reddish hue, — a dark crimson, — as if it had been defiled with blood. And so it had been ; stained on purpose, — that for which it was to be employed, — to be the exponent of the prize, in that lottery of blood, of which its color was an appropriate emblem. The difference between it and the others was not percep- tible to the touch. The fingers of a man born blind could not have distinguished it among the rest, — much less the callous and tar-bedaubed " claws " of a sailor. The red button was cast into the bag along with the others. Ue who should draw it forth must die ! 248 TITE OCEAN WAIFS. As we have said, there, was no settling about preliminaries no talking about choice as to the time of drawing. Thesfl matters had been discussed before, both openly and by secret mental calculations. All had arrived at the conclusion that th3 chances were even, and that it could make no difference in the event as to whose fate was first decided. The red button might be the last in the bag, or it might be the first drawn out of it. Under this impression, no one hesitated to inaugurate the dread ceremony of the drawing ; and as soon as Le Gros held out the bag, — just open enough to admit a hand, — a man stepped up, and, with an air of reckless indifference, plunged his arm into the opening! CHAPTER LXVIII. THE LOTTERY OF LIFE AND DEATH. ONE by one the buttons were drawn forth from the bag, — each man, as he drew his, exhibiting it in his open palm, to satisfy the others as to its color, and then placing it in a common receptacle, — against the contingency of its being required again for another like lottery ! Solemn as was the character of the ceremony, it was not conducted either in solemnity or silence. Many of the wretches even jested while it was in progress ; and a stranger to the dread conditions under which the drawing was being made might have supposed it a raffle for some trifling prize! The faces of a few, however, would have contradicted this supposition. A few there were who approached the oracle with cowed and craven looks ; and their trembling THE LOTTERY OF LIFE AND DEATH. 249 fingers, as they inserted them into the bag, proclaimed an apprehension stronger than could have arisen from any mere coirting of chance in an ordinary casting of lots. Those men who were noisiest and most gleeful after they had drawn were the ones who before it had shown the strongest signs of fear, and who trembled most while per- forming the operation. Some of them could not conceal even their demoniac joy at having drawn blank, but danced about over the raft as if they had suddenly succeeded to some splendid fortune. The difference between this singular lottery and most others, was that the blanks were the prizes, — the prize itself being the true blank, — the ending of existence. Le Gros continued to hold the bag, and with an air of nonchalance ; though any one closely observing his counte- nance could tell that it was assumed. As had been already proved, the French bully was at heart a coward. Under the influence of angry passion, or excited by a desire for revenge, he could show fight, and even fling himself into positions of danger ; but in a contest such as that in which he was now engaged a cool strife, in which Fortune was his only antagonist, and in which he could derive no advan- tage from any unfair subterfuge, his artificial courage had entirely forsaken him. So long as the lottery was in its earlier stages, and only a few buttons had been taken out of the bag, he preserved his assumed air of indifference. There were still many chances of life against that one of death, — nearly twenty to one. As the drawing proceeded, however, and one after another exhibited his black button, a change could be ob- served passing over the features of the Frenchman. His apparent sangfroid began to forsake him ; while his glances betokened a feverish excitement, fast hastening towards ap- prehension. As each fresh hand came up out of the dark receptacle; 11* 250 THE OCEAN WAIFS. bearing the evidence of its owner's fate, Le Gros was seen to cast hurried and anxious glances towards the tiny circle of horn, held between the thumb and forefinger, and each time that he saw the color to be black his countenance appeared to darken at the sight. When Ihe twentieth button had been brought forth, and still the red one remained in the bag, the master of the cere- monies became fearfully excited. He could no longer con- ceal his apprehension. His chances of life were diminished to a point that might well inspire him with fear. It was now but six to one, — for there were only six more tickets to be disposed of. At this crisis, Le Gros interrupted the drawing to reflect. Would he be in a better position, if some one else held the bag ? Perhaps that might change the run of luck hitherto against him ; and which he had been cursing with all his might ever since the number had been going through the teens. He had tried every way he could think of to tempt the red ticket out of the bag. He had shaken the buttons time after time, — in hopes of bringing it to the top, or in some position that might insure its being taken up. But all to no purpose. It would obstinately stay to the last. What difference could it make were he to hand the bag over to some other holder, and try his luck for the twenty- first chance ? " Not any ! " was the mental reply he re- ceived to this mental inquiry. Better for him to hold on as he had been doing. It was hardly possible — at least highly improbable — that the red button should be the last. There had been twenty -Ay e chances to one against its being so. It is true twenty black buttons had been drawn out before it, — in a most unexpected manner, — still it was as likely to come next as any of the remaining six. It would be of no use changing the process, — so con- cluded he, in his own mind, — and, with an air of affected recklessness, the Frenchman signified to those around him that he was ready to continue the drawing. THE LOTTERY OF LIFE AND DEATH. 251 Another man drew forth No. 21. Like those preceding it, the button was black ! No. 22 was fished out of the bag, — black also ! 23 and 24 were of the like hue ! But two buttons now remained, — two men onl) whose fate was undecided. One of them was Le Gros himself,— the other, an Irish sailor, who was, perhaps, the least wicked among that wicked crew. One or other of them must be- come food for their cannibal comrades ! It would scarce be true to say that the interest increased as the dread lottery progressed towards its ending. Its peculiar conditions had secured an interest from the first as intense as it was possible for it to be. It only became changed in character, — less selfish, if we may use the phrase, — as each individual escaped from the dangerous contingency involved in the operation As the drawing approached its termination, the anxiety about the result, though less painful to the majority of the men, was far more so to the few whose fate still hung sus- pended in the scale ; and this feeling became more intensi- fied in the breasts of the still smaller number, who saw their chances of safety becoming constantly diminished. When, at length, only two buttons remained in the bag, and only two men to draw them out, the interest, though changed in character, was nevertheless sufficiently exciting to fix the attention of every individual on the raft. There were circumstances, apart from the mere drawing, that influenced this attention. Fate itself seemed to be tak- ing a part in the dread drama ; or, if not, a very singular contingency had occurred. Between the two men, thus left to decide its decree, there existed a rivalry, — or, rather, might it be called a positive antipathy, — deadly as any vendetta ever enacted on Corsi« can soil. It had not sprung up on the raft. It was of older date. — 252 THE OCEAN WAIFS. old as the earliest days of the Pandora's voyage, on whose decks it had originated. Its first seeds had been sown in that quarrel between Le Gros and Ben Brace, — in which the Frenchman had been so ignominicnsly defeated. The Irish sailor, — partly from some slight feeling of co-nationality, and partly from a natu- ral instinct of fair play, — had taken sides with the British tar ; and ; as a consequence, had invoked the hostility of the French- man. This feeling he had reciprocated to its full extent ; and from that time forward Larry O' Gorman — such was the Irishman's name — became the true bete noir of Le Gros, to be insulted by the latter on every occasion that might offer. Even Ben Brace was no longer regarded with as much dislike. For him the Frenchman had been taught, if not friendship, at least, a certain respect, springing from fear ; and, instead of continuing his jealous rivalry towards the English sailor, Le Gros had resigned himself to occupy a secondary place on the slaver, and transferred his spite to the representative of the Emerald Isle. More than once, slight collisions had occurred between them, — in which the Frenchman, gifted with greater cun- ning, had managed to come off victorious. But there had never arisen any serious matter to test the strength of the two men to that desperate strife, of which death might be the ending. They had generally fought shy of each other ; the Frenchman from a latent fear of his adversary, — founded, perhaps, on some suspicion of powers not yet exhibited by him, and which might be developed in a deadly struggle, — the Irishman from a habitude, not very common among his countrymen, of being little addicted to quarrelling. He was, on the contrary, a man of peaceful disposition, and of few words, — also a rare circumstance, considering that his name was Larry 0' Gorman. There were some good traits in the Irishman's character Perhaps we have given the best. In comparison with tlw A LOTTERY OF LIFE AND DEATH. 253 Frenchman, he might be described as an angel ; and, com- pared with the other wretches on the raft, he was, perhaps, the least bad : for the word best could not, with propriety, be applied to any one of that motley crew. Personally, the two men were unlike as could well be. While the Frenchman was black and bearded, the Irishman was red and almost beardless. In size, however, they ap- proximated nearer to each other, — both being men of large stature. Both had been stout, — almost corpulent. Neither could be so described as they assisted at that sol- emn ceremonial that was to devote one or other of them to a doom — in which their condition was a circumstance of significant interest to those who were to survive them. Both were shrunken in shape, with their garments hanging loosely around their bodies, their eyes sunk in deep cavities, their cheek-bones prominently protruding, their breasts flat and fleshless, the ribs easily discernible, — in short, they ap- peared more like a pair of skeletons, covered with shrivelled skin, than breathing, living men. Either was but ill-adapted for the purpose to which dire necessity was about to devote one or other of them. Of the two, Le Gros appeared the less attenuated. This may have arisen from the fact of his greater ascendency over the crew of the raft, — by means of which he had been en- abled to appropriate to himself a larger share of the food sparsely distributed amongst them. His ample covering of hair may have had something to do with this appearance, — concealing as it did the unevenness of the surface upon which it grew, and imparting a plumper aspect to his face* and fea- tures. If there was a superiority in the quantity of flesh still clinging to his bones, its quality might be questioned, — at all events, in regard to the use that might soon be made of it In point of tenderness, his muscular integuments could scarce- ly compare with those of the Irishman, whose bright skin promised — 254 THE OCEAN WAIFS. These are horrid thoughts. They should not be here repeated, were it not to show in its true light the terrible extremes, both of thought and action, to which men maj be reduced by starvation. Horrid as they may appear, they were entertained at that crisis by the castaway crew of the Pandora I CHAPTER LXIX. A CHALLENGE DECLINED. WHEN it came to the last drawing, — for there need- ed to be only one more, — there was a pause in the proceeding?, such as usually precedes an expected climax. It was accompanied by silence ; so profound that, but for the noise made by the waves as they dashed against the hol- low hogsheads, a pin might have been heard if dropped upon the planking of the raft. In the sound of the sea there was something lugubrious : a fit accompaniment of the unhal- lowed scene that was being enacted by those within hearing of it. One might have fancied that spirits in fearful pain were confined within the empty casks, and that the sour ds that seemed to issue out of them were groans elicited by their agony. The two men, one of whom was doomed to die, stood face to face ; the others forming a sort of circle around them. All eyes were bent upon them, while theirs were fixed only upon each other. The reciprocated glance was one of dire hostility and hate, — combined with a hope on the part of each to see the other dead, and then to survive him. Both were inspired by a belief — in the presence of such ftn unexpected contingency it was not unreasonable — that A CHALLENGE DECLINED. 255 Fate had singled them out from their fellows to stand in that itrange antagonism. They were, in fact, convinced of it. Under the influence of this conviction, it might be sup- posed tha* neither would offer any further opposition to Fate's decree, but would yield to what might appear theif u manifest destiny." As it was, however, fatalism was not the faith of either. Though neither of them could lay claim to the character of * Christian, they were equally unbelievers in this particular article of the creed of Mahomet; and both were imbued with a stronger belief in strength or stratagem than ir chance. On the first-mentioned the Irishman appeared most to rely, as was evidenced by the proposal he made upon the occasion. " I dar yez," said he, " to thry which is the best man. To dhraw them buttons is an even chance bitween us ; an' maybe the best man is him that '11 have to die. By Saint Patrhick ! that is n't fair, nohow. The best man should be allowed to live. Phwat div yez say, comrades ? " The proposal, though unexpected by all, found partisans who entertained it. It put a new face upon the affair. It was one that was not more than reasonable. The crew, no longer interested in the matter, — at least, so far as their own personal safety was concerned, — could now contemplate the result with calmness ; and the instinct of justice was not dead within the hearts of all of them. In the challenge of the Irishman there appeared nothing unfair. A number of them were inclined to entertain it, and declared themselves of that view. The partisans of Le Gros were the more numerous ; and these remained silent, — waiting until the latter should make reply to the proposal of his antagonist. After the slight luck he had already experienced in the lottery, — combined with several partial defeats erst in- flicted upon the man who thus challenged him, — it might 256 THE OCEAN WAIFS. have been expected that Le Gros would have gladly ac cepted the challenge. He did not. On the contrary, he showed such an inclina- tion to trust to chance, that a close observer of his looks and actions might have seen cause to suspect that he had also some reliance upon stratagem. No one, however, had been thus closely observing him. j^ on e — except the individual immediately concerned — had noticed that quick grasp of hands between him and one of his partisans ; or, if they had, it was only to interpret it as a salute of sympathy, extended towards a comrade in a situation of danger. In that salute, however, there passed between the two men something of significance; which, if exhibited to the eyes of the spectators, would have explained the indifference to death that from that moment characterized the demeanor of Le Gros. After that furtive movement, he no longer showed any hesitancy as to his course of action ; but at once declared his willingness, as well as his determination, to abide by the decision of the drawing. " Sacre ! " cried he, in answer to the challenge of the Irishman ; " you don't suppose, Monsieur Irlandais, that I should fear the result as you propose it ? Parbleu ! nobody will believe that. But I'm a believer in Fortune, — not- withstanding the scurvy tricks she has often served me, — even now that she is frowning upon me black as ever. Neither of us appears to be in favor with her, and that will make our chances equal. So then, I say, let us try her again. Sacre I it will be the last time she can frown on one of us, — that 's certain." As O'Gorman had no right to alter the original pro gramme of the lottery, of course the dissenting voices to its continuance were in the minority ; and the general clamor called upon fate to decide which of the two men was t« become food for their famishing companions. A CHALLENGE DECLINED. 257 Le Gros still held the bag containing the two buttons. One of them should be black, the other red. It became a subject of dispute, which was to make the draw. It was not a question of who should draw first, since one button taken out would be sufficient. If the red one came out, the drawer must die ; if the black, then the other must become the victim. Some proposed that a third party should hold the bag, and that tLere should be a toss up for the first chance. Le Gros showed a disposition to oppose this plan. He said that, as he had been intrusted with the superintendence so far, he should continue it to the end. They all saw, — so urged he, — that he had not benefited by the office imposed upon him ; but the contrary. It had brought nothing but ill-luck to him ; and, as everybody knew, when a run of ill- luck once sets in, there was no knowing where it might ter- minate. He did not care much, one way or the other : since there could be no advantage in his holding the bag ; but as he had done so all through, — as he believed to his disadvantage, — he was willing to hold on, even if it was death that was to be his award. The speech of Le Gros had the desired effect. The majority declared themselves in favor of his continuing to hold the bag ; and it was decided that the Irishman should make choice of the penultimate button. The latter offered no opposition to this arrangement. There appeared no valid grounds for objecting to it. It was a simple toss of heads and tails, — " Heads I win, and tails you lose " ; or, to make use of a formula more appropriate to the occasion, " Heads I live, and tails you die." With some such process of reasoning current through the brain of Larry O'Gorman, he stepped boldly up to the bag ; plunged his fist into its obscure interior ; and drew forth — the blac\ button/ 258 THE OCEAN WAIF?* CHAPTER LXX. AN UNEXPECTED TERMINATION. THE red button remained in the bag. It was a singu- lar circumstance that it should be the last ; but suck strange circumstances will sometimes occur. It belonged t« Le Gros. The lottery was over ; the Frenchman had for* feited life. It seemed idle for him to draw the button out; and vet, to the astonishment of the spectators, he proceeded to ilo so. " Sacre ! " he exclaimed, " the luck 's been against me. Eh Men!" he added, with a sangfroid that caused some surprise, " I suppose I must make a die of it. Let me see che accursed thing that 's going to condemn me ! " As he said this, he held up the bag in his left hand, — at the sam* time plunging his right into its dark interior. For some seconds he appeared to grope about, as if he had some difficulty in finding the button. While fumbling in this fashion he let go the mouth of the wallet, which he had been holding in his left hand, — adroitly transferring his hold to its bottom. This was done apparently for the purpose of getting the button into a corner, — in order that he might lay hold of it with his fingers. For some moments the bag rested upon his left fore- arm, while he continued his hunt after the little piece of horn. He appeared successful at length; and drew forth his right hand, with the fingers closed over the palm, as if containing something, — of course the dread symbol of death. Stirred by a kind of curiosity, his comrades pressed mechanically around, and stood watching his move- ments. For an instant he kept his fist closed, holding it on higb AN UNEXPECTED TERMINATION. 259 M) that all might see it: and then, slowly extending his fingers, he exhibited his spread palm before their eyes. It held the button that he had drawn forth from the bag ; but, to the astonishment of all, it was a black one, and not the red token that had been expected! There were but two men who did not partake of this surprise. One was Le Gros himself, — though, to all ap- pearance, he was the most astonished individual of the party, — the other was the man who, some minutes before, might have been observed standing by his side, and stealthily transferring something from his own fingers to those of the Frenchman. This unexpected termination of the lottery led to a scene of terrific excitement. Several seized hold of the bag, — jerking it out of the hand of him who had hitherto been holding it. It was at once turned inside out ; when the red button fell upon the planking of the raft. Most of the men were furious, and loudly declared that they had been cheated, — some offering conjectures as to how the cheat had been accomplished. The confederate of Le Gros — backed by the ruffian himself — suggested that there might have been no deception about the matter, but only a mistake made in the number of buttons originally thrown into the bag. " Like enough, — d d like enough!" — urged Le Gros's sharping partner; "there's been a button too many put into the bag, — twenty-seven instead of twenty-six. That 's how it 's come about. Well, as we all helped at the counting of 'em, therefore it 's no- body's fault in particular. We '11 have to draw again, and the next time we can be more careful." As no one appeared able to contradict this hypothesis, it passed off, with a number, as the correct one. Most of the men, however, felt sure that a trick had been played ; and the trick itself could be easily conjectured. Some one of the drawers had procured a button similar to those inside 2G0 THE OCEAN WAIFS. the bag; and holding this button, had sirr. ply inserted hi* hand, and drawn it out again. Out of twenty-six draws it would have been impossible to fix upon the individual who had been guilty of the cheat, though there were not a few who permitted their suspicions to fall on Le Gros himself. There had been observed something peculiar in his mode of manipulation. He had inserted his hand into the wallet with the fist closed ; and had drawn it out in similar fashion. This, with one or two other circumstances, looked suspicious enough; but it was remembered that some others had done the same ; and as there was not enough of evidence to bring home the infa- mous act to its perpetrator, no one appeared either able or willing to risk making the accusation. Yes, there was one who had not yet declared himself; nor did he do so until some time had elapsed after th» final and disappointing draw made by the master of the cere- monies. This man was Larry 0' Gorman. While the rest of the crew had been listening to the argu- ments of the Frenchman's confederate, — and one by one signifying their • acquiescence, — the Irishman stood apart, apparently busied in some profound mental calculation. When at length all seemed to have consented to a second casting of lots, he roused himself from his reverie ; and, stepping hastily into their midst, cried out in a determined manner, "No — " No, yez don't," continued he, " no more drawin', my jewels, till we 've had a betther undherstandin' ov this little matther. That there 's been chatin' yez are all agreed ; only yez can't identify the chate. Maybe I can say somethin' to point out the dirty spalpeen as has n't the courage nor the dacency to take his chance along wid the rest ov us." This unexpected interpolation at once drew the eyes of ;dl parties upon the speaker ; for all were alike interested h the revelation which 0' Gorman w T as threatening to make LE GROS UPON TRIAL. 261 Whoever had played foul, — if it could only be proved against him, — would be regarded as the man who ought to have drawn the red button ; and would be treated as if he had done so. This was tacitly understood ; even before the suggestion of such a course had passed the lips of any one. Those who were innocent were of course desirous of discov- ering the " black sheep," — in order to escape the danger of a second drawing, — and, as these comprehended almost the entire crew, it was natural that an attentive ear should be given to the statement which the Irishman proposed to lay before them. All stood gazing upon him with expectant eyes. In those of Le Gros and his confederate there was a different ex- pression. The look of the Frenchman was more especially remarkable. His jaws had fallen ; his lips were white and bloodless; his eyes glared fiend-like out of their sunken sockets ; while the whole cast of his features was that of a man threatened with some fearful and infamous fate, which he feels himself unable to avert. CHAPTER LXXI. LE GROS UPON TRIAL. AS O'Gorman gave utterance to the last words cf his preparatory speech, he fixed his eyes steadfastly upon the Frenchman. His look confirmed every one in the belief that the allusion had been to the latter. Le Gros at first quailed before the Irishman's glance ; but, perceiving the necessity of putting a bold front on the matter, he made an endeavor to reciprocate it. " Sacre Net ! " he exclaimed. " Monsieur Irlandait . 262 THE OCEAN WAIFS. why do you look at me ? you don't mean to insinuate (.hat I 've acted unfairly ? " " The divil a bit," replied the Irishman. " If it 's insin- uation yez be talkin' about, the divil a bit ov that do I inane. Larry 0' Gorman is n't agoin to bate about the bush wan way or the tother, Misther Laygrow. He tells ye to yer teeth that it was yer beautiful self putt the exthra buttop into the bag, — yez did it, Misther Laygrow, and nobody else." " Liar ! " vociferated the Frenchman, with a menacing gesture. " Liar ! " " Kape cool, Frenchy. It is 'nt Larry the Galwayman that 's goin' to be scared at yer blusther. I repate, — it was you yourself that putt that button into the bag." " How do you know that, O'Gorman ? " " Can you prove it ? " " What proof have you ? " were questions that were asked simultaneously by several voices, — among which that of the Frenchman's confederate was conspicuous. " Phwy, phwat more proof dir yez want, than phwat 's alriddy before yez ? When I had me hand in the wallet, there was n't only the two buttons, — the divil a more. I feeled thim both while I was gropin' about to make choice betwixt them ; an if there had been a third, I wud a feeled that too. I can swear by the holy cross of Saint Pathrick there was n't wan more than the two." " That 's no proof there was n't three," urged the friend of Le Gros. " The third might have been in a wrinkle of the bag, without your feeling it ! " " The divil a wrinkle it was in, except the wrinkles in the palm of that spalpeen's fist ! That 's where it was ; and 1 can tell yez all who putt it there. It was this very chap who is so pit-a-pat at explainin' it. Yez need n't deny it, Bill Bowler. I saw somethin' passin' betwixt yerself and Frenchy, — jest before it come his turn to dhraw. I saw yer flippers touchhv -wan another, an' somethin' slippm* in A DUEL TO THE DEATH. 263 betvtane them. I could n't tell phwat it was, but, by Jayeus ! I thought it quare for all that. I know now phwhat it was, — it was the button." The Irishman's arguments merited attention ; and received it. The circumstances looked at the least suspicious against Le Gros. To the majority they were conclusive of his guilt. The accusation was supported by other evidence. The man who had preceded O' Gorman in the drawing positively avowed that he could feel only three buttons in the bag; while the one before him, with equal confidence, asserted that when he drew, there were but four. Both declared that they could not be mistaken as to the numbers. They had separately " fingered " each button in the hope of being able to detect that which was blood-stained, and so avoid bringing it forth. " Ach ! " ejaculated the Irishman, becoming impatient for the conviction of his guilty antagonist; "phwat's the use ov talkin'. Frenchy's the wan that did it. That gropin' an' fumolin' about the bottom of the wallet was all pretince. He had the button in his shut fist all the time, an' by Jaysus! he 's entitled to the prize, the same as if he had dhrawn it. It 's him that 's got to die ! " " Canaille ! liar ! " shouted Le Gros ; " if I have, you " — And as the words issued from his lips he sprang forward, knife in hand, with the evident design of taking the life of his accuser. " Kape cool ! " cried the latter, springing out of reach of his assailant ; and with his own blade bared, placing himself on the defensive. " Kape cool, ye frog-atin son av a gun, or ye '11 make mate for us sooner than ye expected, ay, before yez have time to put up a pater for yer ugly sowl, that stans most disperately in nade ov it. a Now," continued the Irishman, after he had fairly placed himself in an attitude of defence ; " come an whiniver yez 264 THE OCEAN WAIFS. loike. Larry 0' Gorman is riddy for ye, an' another av the game at yer dhirty back. Hoch^—favgh-a-haUah, — hiloo, — whallabaloo ! " CHAPTER LXXII. A DUEL TO THE DEATH. THE strange ceremonial upon the raft, — hitherto car- ried on with some show of solemnity, — had reached an unexpected crisis. A second appeal to the goddess of Fortune was no longer thought of. The deadly antagonism of the two chief cast- aways — Le Gros and 0' Gorman — promised a result likely to supply the larder of that cannibal crew, without the necessity of their having recourse to her decrees. One or other, — perhaps both, — of these men must soon cease to live ; for the determined attitude of each told, beyond mistaking, that his bared blade would not be again sheathed, except in the flesh of his adversary. There was no attempt at intervention. Not one of their comrades interposed to keep them apart. There was friendly feeling, — or, to use a more appropriate phrase, partisanship, ■ — on the side of each ; but it was of that character which usually exists among the brutal backers of two " champions of the ring." Under other circumstances, each party might have re- gretted the defeat of the champion they had adopted ; but upon that raft, the death of one or other of the combatants was not only desirable ; but, rather than it should not occur, either side would have most gladly assented to see its es- pecial favorite the victim. Every man of that ruffian crew had a selfish interest is A DUEL TO THE DEATH. 265 the result of the threatened conflict; and this fir outweighed any feeling of partisanship with which he might have been inspired. A few may have felt friendlier than others to- wards their respective champions ; but to the majority it mattered little which of the two men should die ; and there were even some who, in the secret chambers of their hearts, would have reflected gleefully to behold both become victims of their reciprocal hostility. Such a result would cause a still further postponement of that unpopular lottery, — in which they had been too often compelled to take shares. There was no very great difference in the number of the " friends " on either side. The partisans of the Frenchman would have far outnumbered those of his Irish adversary, but ten minutes before. But the behavior of Le Gros in the lottery had lost him many adherents. That he had played the trick imputed to him was by most believed ; and as the result of his unmanly subterfuge was of personal in- terest to all, there were many, hitherto indifferent, now inspired with hostility towards him. Apart from personal considerations, — even amongst that conglomeration of outcasts, — there were some in whom the instinct of " fair play " was not altogether dead ; and the foul play of the Frenchman had freshly aroused this instinct within them. As soon as the combatants had shown a fixed determina- tion to engage in deadly strife, the crowd upon the raft be- cam3 separated, as if by mechanical action, into two groups, — one forming in the rear of Le Gros, the other taking Btand behind the Irishman. As already stated, there was no great inequality be« tween them in point of numbers ; and as each occupied an end of the raft, the balance was preserved, and the stage upon which the death drama was about to be enacted — set horizontally — offered no advantage to either. Knives were to be their weapons. There were others on 12 266 THE OCEAN WAIFS. the raft. There were axes, cutlasses, and harpoons ; but th€ use of these was prohibited to either of the intended combat- ants : as nothing could be fairer than the sailor's knife, — with which each was provided, — and no weapon in close combat could be used with more certain or deadlier effect* Each armed with his own knife, released from its lanyard fastenings in order to be freely handled, — each with his foot planted in front of him, to guard against the onset of his ad- versary, — each with an arm upraised, at the end of which appeared six inches of sharp, glittering steel, — each with muscles braced to their toughest tension, and eyes glaring forth the fires of a mutual hatred, — a hostility to end only in death, — such became the attitude of the antagonists. Behind each stood their respective partisans, in a sort of semicircle, of which the champion was in the centre, — all eagerly intent on watching the movements of the two men, one of whom — perhaps both — was about to be hurried into eternity. It was a setting sun that was to afford light for this fearftA conflict. Already was the golden orb declining low upon the western horizon. His disc was of a lurid red, — a color ap- propriate to the spectacle it was to illumine. No wonder that both combatants instinctively turned their eyes towards the west, and gazed upon the god of day. Both were under the belief they might never more look upon thai luminary 1 HATE AGAINST HATE. 267 CHAPTER LXXIII. HATE AGAINST HATE. THE c :>mbatants did not close on the instant. The sharp blades shining in their hands rendered them shy of a too near approach, and for some time they kept apart. They did not, however, remain motionless or inactive. On the contrary, both were on the alert, — moving in short curves from one side to the other, and all the while keeping vis-a-vis. At irregular intervals one of them would make a feint to attack ; or by feigning a retreat endeavor to get the other off guard; but, ^after several such passes and counterpasses had been delivered between them, still not a scratch had been given, — not a drop of blood drawn. The spectators looked on with a curious interest. Some Bhowed not the slightest emotion, — as if they cared not who should be the victor, or which the victim. To most it mat- tered but little if both should fall ; and there were even some upon the raft who, for certain secret reasons, would have preferred such a termination to the sanguinary struggle. A few there were slightly affected with feelings of parti- sanship. These doubtless felt a deeper interest in the result, at least they were more demonstrative of it ; and by words of exhortation and cries of encouragement endeavored to give support to their respective champions. There were spectators of a different kind, that appeared to take as much interest in the fearful affair as any of those already described. These were the sharks ! Looking at them, as they swam around the raft, — their eyes glaring upon those who occupied it, — one could not have helped thinking that they comprehended what was going on, — that they were conscious of a deed of violence about to be enacted, — and were waiting for some contingency that might turn op in their favor 1 268 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Whatever the crisis was to be, neither the spectators in the sea, nor those upon it, would have long to wait for the crisis Two men, mutually enraged, standing in front of each other, armed with naked knives ; each desperately desirous of killing the other, — with no one to keep them apart, but a score of spectators to encourage them in their intent of recip- rocal destruction, — were not likely to be long in coming to the end of the affair. It was not a question of swords, where skilful fencing may protract a combat to an indefinite period of time ; nor of pistols, where unskilful shooting may equally retard the result The combatants knew that, on closing within arms' length, one or othei must receive a wound that might in a moment prove mortal. It was this thought that — for some minutes after their squaring up to each other — had influenced them to keep at a wary distance. The cries of their companions began to assume an altered tone. Mingled with shouts of exhortation could be heard taunts and jeers, — several voices proclaiming that the " two bullies were afraid of each other. " " Go in, Le Gros ! give him the knife ! " cried the partisans of the Frenchman. " Come, Larry ! lay on to him ! " shouted the backers of his antagonist. " Bear a hand, both of you ! go it like men ! " vociferated the voice sf some one, who did not seem particularly affected to the side of either. These off-hand counsels, spoken in a varied vocabulary of tongues, seemed to produce the desired effect. As the last of them pealed over the heads of the spectators, the com- batants rushed towards each other, — as they closed inflicting a mutual stab. But the blade of each was met by the left arm of his antagonist, thrown out to ward off the stroke ; and they separated again without either having received farther injury than a flesh wound, that in no way disabled HATE AGAINST HATE. 269 them. It appeared, however, to produce an irritation, which rendered both cf them less careful of consequences : for in an instant after they closed again, — the spectators accom panying their collision with shouts of encouragement. All were now looking for a quick termination to the affair ; but in this they were disappointed. After several random thrusts had been given on both sides, the combatants again became separated without either having received any serious injury. The wild rage which blinded both, rendering their blows uncertain, — combined with the weakness of their bodies from long starvation, — may account for their thus separating for the second time, without either having re- ceived a mortal wound. Equally innocuous proved the third encounter, — though differing in character from either of those that preceded it. As they came together, each grasped the right arm o c his antagonist, - — that which wielded the weapon, — in his left hand; and firmly holding one another by the wrists, they continued the strife. In this way it was no longer a contest of skill, but of strength. Nor was it at all dangerous, as long as the " grip " held good ; since neither could use his knife. Either could have let go with his left hand at any moment ; but by so doing he would release the armed hand of his antagonist, and thus place himself in imminent peril. Both were conscious of the danger ; and, instead of sepa- rating, they continued to preserve the reciprocal " clutch M that had been established between them. For some minutes they struggled in this strange fashion, — the intention of each being to throw the other upon the raft. That done, he who should be uppermost would obtain a decided advantage. They twisted, and turned, and wriggled their bodies about; but both still managed to keep upon their feet. The contest was not carried on in any particular spot \ but all over the raft ; up against the mast, around the empty 270 THE OCEAN WAIFS. casks, among the osseous relics of humanity, — the strewed bones rattling against their feet as they trod over them. The spectators made way as they came nearer, nimbly leap- ing from side to side ; while the stage upon which thi3 fear- ful drama was being enacted, — despite the ballast of its water-logged beams, and the buoyancy of its empty casks, — was kept in a continual commotion. It soon became evident that Le Gros was likely to get the worst of it, in this trial of strength. The muscular power of the Frenchman was inferior to that of his island antagonist; and had it been a mere contest of toughness, the former would have been defeated. In craft, however, Le Gros was the Irishman's superior : and at this crisis stratagem came to his aid. In turning about, the Frenchman had got his head close to the sleeve of 0' Gorman's jacket, — that one which en- circled his right wrist, and touched the hand holding the dangerous knife. Suddenly craning his neck to its fullest stretch, he seized the sleeve between his teeth, and held it with all the strength of his powerful jaws. Quick as thought, his left hand glided towards his own right ; his knife was transferred to it; and the next moment gleamed beneath, threatening to penetrate the bosom of his antagonist. O' Gorman's fate appeared to be sealed. With both arms pinioned, what chance had he to avoid the blow ? The spec- tators, silent and breathless, looked for it as a certain tiling There was scarce time for them to utter an exclamation, be- fore they were again subjected to surprise at seeing the Irishman escape from his perilous position. Fortunate it was for him, that the cloth of his pea-jacket was not of the best quality. It had never been, even when new ; and now, after long-continued and ill usage, it was almost rotten. For this reason, by a desperate wrench, he was enabled to release his arm from the dental grip which his antagonist had taken upon it, — leaving only a rag be- tween the Frenchman's teeth. HATE AGAINST HATE. 271 The circumstances bad suddenly changed ! the advantage being now on the side of the Irishman. Not only was hi 3 right arm free again; but with the other he still retained his hold upon that of his antagonist. Le Gros could only use his weapon with the left arm; which placed him at a disadvantage. Tne shouts that had gone up to hail the Frenchman's success — so late appearing certain — had become suddenly hushed ; and once more the contest proceeded in silence. It lasted but a few seconds longer ; and then was it ter- minated in a manner unexpected by all. Beyond doubt, 0' Gorman would have been the victor, had it ended as every one was anticipating it would, — in the death of one or other of the combatants. As it chanced, however, neither succumbed in that sanguinary strife. Both were preserved for a fate equally fearful : one^ indeed, for a death ten times more terrible. As I have said, the circumstances had turned in favor cf the Irishman. He knew it ; and was not slow to avail him self of the advantage. Still retaining his grasp of Le Gros's right wrist, he plied his own dexter arm with a vigor that promised soon to settle the affair ; while the left arm of the Frenchman could offer only a feeble resistance, either by thrusting or parrying. Their knife-blades came frequently in collision ; and for a few passes neither appeared to give or receive a wound This innocuous sparring, however, was of short continuance and ended by the Irishman making a dexterous stroke, by which his blade was planted in the hand of his antagonist, — transfixing the very fingers which were grasping the knife ! The weapon fell from his relaxed clutch ; and passing through the interstices of the timber*, sank to the bottom of the sea! A scream of despair escaped from the lips of the French 272 THE OCEAN WAIFS. man, as ne saw the blade of his antagonist about to b« thrust into his body! The thrust was threatened, but not made. Before it could be given, a hand interfered to prevent it. One of the spectators had seized the uplifted arm of the Irishman,^- at the same time vociferating, in a stentorian voice, — - " Don't kill him ! we won't need to eat him ! Look yonder ! We 're saved ! we 're saved ! " CHAPTER LXXIV. a light! THE man who had so unexpectedly interrupted the deadly duello, while giving utterance to his strange speech, kept one of his arms extended towards the ocean, — as if pointing to something he had descried above the horizon. The eyes of all were suddenly turned in the direction thus indicated. The magic words, '' We are saved ! " had an immediate effect, — not only upon the spectators of the tragedy thus intruded upon, but upon its actors. Even ran- cor became appeased by the sweet sound ; and that of the Irishman, as with most of his countrymen, being born " as the flint bears fire," subsided on the instant. He permitted his upraised arm to be held in restraint ; it became relaxed, as did also his grasp on the wri&t of his an- tagonist ; while the latter, finding himself free, was allowed to retire from the contest. O' Gorman, among the rest, had faced round; and stood looking in the direction where somebody had seen somfr thing that promised salvation of all. A light! 278 "What is it?" inquired several voices in the same breath, — "the land?" No : it could not be that. There was not one of them such a nautical ignoramus as to believe himself within sigh' of land. "A sail? — a ship?" That was more likely : though, at the first glance, neither Bail nor ship appeared upon the horizon. "What is it?" was the interrogatory reiterated by a dozen voices. " A light ! Don't you see it ? " asked the lynx-eyed in- dividual, whose interference in tfie combat had caused this sudden departure from the programme. " Look ! " he con- tinued; "just where the sun's gone down yonder. It's only a speck ; but I can see it plain enough. It must be the light from a ship's binnacle ! " " Garrajo ! " exclaimed a Spaniard ; " it 's only a spark the sun 's left behind him. It 's the ignis fatuus you 've seen, amigo!" " Bah ! " added another ; " supposing it is a binnacle- lamp, as you say, what would be the use, except to tantalize us. If it be in the binnacle, in course the ship as carries it must be stern towards us. What chance would there be of our overhaulin' her ? " "Par Dieu! there be von light!" cried a sharp-eyed little Frenchman. " Pe Gar ! I him see. Ver true, vrasment I An — pe dam ! — zat same est no lamp in ze binnacle ! " " I see it too ! " cried another. . "And I!" added a third. " lo tambien!" (I also) echoed a fourth, whose tongue proclaimed him of Spanish nativity. " Ich sehe / " drawled out a native of the German Con- federacy; and then followed a volley of voices, — each saying something to confirm the belief that a light wai really gleaming over the ocean. 12* * 274 THE OCEAN WAIFS. This was a fact that nobody — not even the first object ors — any longer doubted. It is true that the light seen appeared only a mere sparkle, feebly glimmering against the sky, and might have been mistaken for a star. But it was just in that part of the heavens where a star could not at that time have been seen, — on the western horizon, still slightly reddened by the rays of the declining sun. The men who speculated upon its appearance, — rude as .hey were in a moral sense, — were not so intellectually stu- pid as to mistake for a star that speck of yellowish hue, struggling to reveal itself against the almost kindred color wept past the carcass, — leaving both the black mass and the blazing beacon astern. As if further to justify the course of action he had coun- selled, Le Gros continued, — THE CHASE. 807 "No fear about our finding the dead fish. This fog ia rlearing away. In half an hour there won't be a trace of it. We shall be able to make out the carcass if the whale twenty miles off, — especially with the smoke of that infer- nal 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 k t, - — water I " It scarce needed the repetition of this magic word tc stimulate his thirsty companions. They were already pull- ing with all their strength. For about ten minutes the chase continued, — both the pursued and the pursuer equally enveloped in vapor. 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 endeavoring 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 identifi- cation 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, Snowball, 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 weie continuing the chase still ignorant of the identity of those who seemed s# desirous of escaping them. 808 THE OCEAN WAIFS. 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 Snowball to a cer- tainty ! 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, Snowball ! " cried several of his old comrades. " Why have you cut your cable in that fashion ? Hold on till we come up. We mean you no harm ! " Snowball did hold on ; though not in the sense that his former associates 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 fiis 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 protestations. Snowball wau 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 solicita- tions ; and they who had given utterance to them arriving ■fter a time, at this conviction, ceased talking altogether. i NEARER AND NEARER. 309 Snowball's silent, though evidently determined, rejection :>f 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 overtak- ing the fugitive craft. Two hundred yards still lay between pursuer and pursued. Two hundred yards of clear, unobstructed ocean. Was that distance to become diminished, to the capture of the Catamaran ; or was it to be increased, to her escape ? CHAPTER LXXXV. NEARER AND NEARER. WERE the Catamarans to escape or be captured? Though not propounded as above, this was the ques- tion 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 row- ing 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 in- cluded. 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 snperioi to the larger raft ; and had the wind been cnly a little fresb S1(S TfliL OCEAN WAIFS. sr she would soon have increased the distance between hei ielf 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 labored under a great disadvantage, — she could only command a single pair of oars ; while, taking into account the various implements — capstan-bars and hand- spikes — possessed by her competitor, 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 deter- mination never to lay down their oars, so long as six feet of water separated them from their unpitying pursuers. " No," ejaculated 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, Massa Brace ! " replied the Cor* b. ■ oc r. , NEARER AND NEARER. 311 mantee. " 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 any one who could have looked upon the sea, — at some distance astern of the chase. There might have been observed an appearance u^on the water, which betokened it different from that through which they were making their way. It resembled a dark, shadowy line, extending athwart the horizon. It might not have attracted the notice of an ordi- nary observer, but to the eye of Ben Brace, — as he sat by his oar facing it, — that dark line had a peculiar signifi- cation. 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 Snowball, and it was this that continued to inspire them with a hope of ultimate escape. Both believed that, with a strong wind in their favor, 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 '11 be down on us ; and then we '11 ha' some chance. There be no doubt but they 're gainin' on ui now. But the breeze be a gainin' on them, — equally, if bl2 THE OCEAN WA1F& not faster. O if we only Lad a puff o' yonder wind! It bt blowin' fresh and strong. I can see it curlin' up the water not thrae knots astarn o' the big raft. Pull for your life, Sc^wy Shiver my timbers ! they be a gainin' on us faster than erer!" 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 assent made by Snowball in reply, — an ominous shake of the head, — showed that the ex-cook shared the apprehensions of his comrade. CHAPTER LXXXVI. CUT IN TWAIN. FOR some seconds the sailor and Snowball remained si lent, — 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, 60 long as there appeared to be any uncertainty about the re- sults of the chase ; but as soon as they became assured that their clumsy craft was going faster than that of which they were in pursuit, — and they no longer felt doubt about over- taking 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 em- CUT IN TWAIN. 315 i/arkation, with a long boat-hook in his hand, l.e appeared to direct the movements of The others, — urging them in e^ery way to their utmost exertions. He was heard telling then: that he saw both food and water in possession of the fugi* lives, — a cask of the latter, as he stated, *)eing lashed f a 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 pronounced, 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, com- ing on behind. They saw the sky becoming overcast above their heads ; but it appeared only to scowl upon them, — as r£ to make darker the dread doom that was now threatening 60 near. " Shiver 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 him- self to the negro ; " why don't you hold your oars ? Sac7t Dieu 1 what 's the use, you ugly nigger ? Don't you «e we '11 board you in six seconds more ? Drop your 14 ft 14 THE OCEAN WAIFS. oars, I say, and save time. If you don't, we '11 skin you alive, when we 've got our flippers upon you." " Nebba, Massa Grow ! " defiantly retorted Snowball ; " you nebba 'kin dis nigga '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, Massa Grow ! You lay hand on ole Snowy, you cotch de tarnel goss." To this threat of resistance the Frenchman did not vouch- safe 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 ex- tended, 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 shivering through the air. At the same instant of time the Frenchman, losing his balance, was seen to stagger, and then sink suddenly down- wards ; 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 timbers when a wild AN UNLOOKED-FOR DEIIVERANGC 315 shriek came forth from his throat, — accompanied by a pallor of countenance, and a contortion of his features, that pr> claimed something more than a mere " start " :eceived 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 drag- ging 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 meiited punishment, and, perhaps deseived nc better fate. CHAPTER LXXXVII. AN UNLOOKED-FOR DELIVERANCE. A SPECTACLE so unexpected, — but, above all, 01 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, 816 THE OCEAN WAIFS. Both parties appeared for some seconds as if spell-bound, and the oars on both rafts were for a while held " apeak." This pause in the action was in favor 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, wei»e the first to recover frcm their sur- prise ; and before the comrades of the half-eaten Frenchman thought of continuing the chase, they had forced ahead sev- eral 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 succumbed 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 re- sulted in proving the guilt of Le Gros, and piujlaiming 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 u 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 witL far less effect than before. They were stil) stimulated by AN UNLOOKED-FOR DELIVERANCE. 317 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 fr )m 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 cumbrous 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 char- acter of the chase hitherto kept up between them. And very quickly came that change to pass. 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 rushing over them, and the sea, at each fresh as- 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. #18 THE OCEAN WAIFS. CHAPTER LXXXVIII. A THREATENED STORM. THUS, once more, were the Catamarans deliveied 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 any one 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 passing, — 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 encour- aging counsels to Snowball 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 deliver- ance. It was this belief that still hindered the brave mariner, — now that the sea began to surge around them, and the spray to dash over the deck of their frail craft, — hindered him r rom giving way to a new despair ; and from supposing that they had been only delivered from one danger to be over- whelmed by another. For some time did it seem as if this was to be their fate, — as if, literally, they were to be overwhelmed. The breeze which had so opportunely carried the Catamaran beyond the A THREATENED STORM. 319 reach of the pursuing raft, soon freshened into a gale ; and threatened to continue increasing to that still more dreaded condition of the ocean atmosphere, — a storm. . The rafts were no longer in sight of each other. Scarce five minutes had elapsed, after being grappled by Le Gros, when the breeze had caught hold of the Catamaran ; and, from her superior sailing qualities, she had soon become sep- arated from the more clumsy embarkation of the enemy. In another hour, the Catamaran, under good steering, had swept several miles to westward ; while the raft, no longer propelled by oars, and its rudder but ill-directed, had gone drifting about : as if they who occupied it were making onlj a despairing effort to keep it before the wind. Despite the rising gale and the increasing roughness of the water, there were no despairing people upon the Catam- aran. Supported by his faith in providential protection, Ben Brace acted as if there was no danger; and encour- aged his companions to do the same. Every precaution was adopted to provide against acci- dents. As soon as they saw that the pursuer was left be- hind, — and they were no longer in any peril from that quarter, — the sail was lowered upon the mast, as there was too great a breadth of it for the constantly freshening breeze. It was not taken in altogether, but only " shortened," — reefed in a rude fashion, — so as to expose only half its sur- face to the wind ; and this proved just sufficient to keep the Catamaran "trim" and steady upon her course. It would not be correct to say that her captain and c:>ew felt no fears for her safety. On the contrary, they experi eneed the apprehensions natural to such a situation ; and for tliis reason did they take every precaution against the danger that threatened. The Coromantee might have given way to a feeling of fatalism, — peculiar to his country and class, — out there was no danger of Ben Brace doing so. Notwith* standing bis faith about being protected by Providence, tht 320 THE OCEAN WAIFS. jailor also believed, that self-action is required on the part of those who stand in need of such protection; and that QOthing should be left undone to deserve it. The situation was altogether new to them. It was the Srst thing in the shape of a storm, or even a gale, they had encountered since the construction of their curious craft. Ever since the burning of the Pandora, they had been highly favored in this respect. They had been navigating their various embarkations through a " summer sea," in the midst of the tropical ocean, — where ofttimes whole weeks elapse without either winds or waves occurring to disturb its tranquillity, — a sea, in short, where the " calm " is more dreaded than the "storm." Up to this time they had not sxperienced any violent commotion of the atmosphere,— nothing stronger than what is termed a " fresh breeze," and in that the Catamaran had proved herself an accomplished sailer. It was now to be seen how she would behave under a gale that might end in a storm, — perhaps a terrific tempest It would be untrue to say that her crew looked forward to the event without fear. They did not. As said, they suffered considerable apprehension ; and would have felt it more keenly, but for the cheering influence of that faith with which her captain was sustained, and which he en- deavored to impart to his companions. Leaning upon this, they looked with less dread upon the eky lowering above and the storm gathering around them. As the day advanced the wind continued to freshen until about the hour of noon. It was then blowing a brisk gale. Fortunately for the crew of the Catamaran, it did not be- come a storm. Had it done so their frail craft must have been shivered, and her component parts once more scat- tered Dver the ocean. It was just as much as her crew could accomplish to keep them together, in a sea only moderately rough, — compared A THREATENED STORM. 82 X with what it would have been in a storm. This they dis- covered during the afternoon of that day; and it was do great comfort to them to reflect that, in the event of a real storm being encountered, the Catamaran would undoubtedly go to pieces. They could only console themselves with thi hope that such an event might not arise until they should reach land, or, which was perhaps more probable, be picked up by a ship. The chances of terminating their perilous voyage in either way were so slight and distant, that they scarce gave thought to them. When they did, it was only to be remind- ed of the extreme hopelessness of their situation, and yield to despairing reflections. On that particular day they had no time to speculate upon such remote probabilities as the ultimate ending of their voyage. They found occupation enough, — both for their minds and bodies, — in insuring its continuance. Not only had they to watch every wave as it came rolling upon them, — and keep the Catamaran trimly set to receive it, — but they had to look to the timbers of the craft, and see that the lashings did not get loose. Several times did the sea break quite over them ; and but that Lilly Lalee and little William were fast tied to the foot of the mast, they would both have been washed off, and probably lost amidst the dark waste of waters. It was just as much as the two strong men could do to keep aboard and even they had ropes knotted round their wrists and attached to the timbers of the raft, — in case of their getting carried overboard. Once a huge billow swept over, submerging them several feet under the sea. At this crisis all four thought that their last hour had come, and for some seconds were under the belief that they were going to the bottom, and would never more look upon the light of day. But for the peculiar construction of their raft this, in all likelihood, would have been the result ; bat those ouoyau- 522 THE OCEAN WAIFS. water -casks were not to be " drowned " in such a fashion and soon •' bobbed " back to the surface, once more bringing the Catamaran and her crew above water. It was fortunate for them that Ben Brace and SnowlaU had not trusted too much to fate while constructing theii abnormal craft. The experienced sailor had foreseen the difficulties that on this day beset them; and, instead of making a mere temporary embarkation, to suit the condi- tions of the summer sea that then surrounded them, he had spared no pains to render it seaworthy as far as circum- stances would allow. He and Snowball had used their united strength in drawing tight the cords with which the timbers were bound together, — as well as those that lashed them to the casks, — and their united skill in disposing the rude materials in a proper manner. Even after " launching " the Catamaran, — every day, almost every hour, had they been doing something to im- prove her, — either by giving the craft greater strength and compactness, or in some other way rendering her more worthy both of the sea and her sailors. By this providential industry they were now profiting : since by it, and it alone, were they enabled to " ride out " the gale. Had they trusted to chance and given way to indolence, — all the more natural under the very hopelessness of their situation, — they would never have outlived that day. The Catamaran might not have gone to the bottom, but she would have gone to pieces ; and it is not likely that any of her crew would have survived the catastrophe. As it was, both raft and crew weathered the gale in safety. Before sunset the wind had fallen to a gentle zephyr ; the tropical sea was gradually returning to its normal state of comparative calm ; and the Catamaran, with her broad sail once more spread to the breeze, was scudding on, — guided in her course by the golden luminary slowly descending towards the western edge of «i cloudless heaven. A STAETLING SHRIEK. 32B CHAPTER LXXXIX. A STARTLING SHRIEK. THE night proved pleasanter than the day. The wind was no longer an enemy; and the breeze that suc- ceeded was more advantageous than would have been a dead calm; since it steadied the craft amidst the rolling of the swell. Before midnight the swell itself had subsided. It had never reached any great height, as the gale had been of short continuance ; and for the same reason it had suddenly gone down again. With the return of smooth water they were able to betake themselves to rest. They needed it, after such a series of fatigues and fears ; and having swallowed a few morsels of their unpalatable food, and washed it down by a cup of diluted Canary, they all went to rest. Neither the wet planking on which they were compelled to encouch themselves, nor the sea-soaked garments clinging round their bodies, hindered them from obtaining sleep. In a colder clime their condition would have been suffi- siently comfortless; but in the ocean atmosphere of the torrid zone the night hours are warm enough to render " wet meets " not only endurable, but at times even pleasant. I have said that all of them went to sleep. It was not their usual custom to do so. On other nights one was nlways upon the watch, — either the captain himself, the ex-cook, or the boy. Of course Lilly Lalee enjoyed im- munity from this kind of duty : since she was not, properly speaking, one of the " crew," but only a " passenger." Their customary night-watch had a twofold object: to hold the Catamaran to her course, and to keep a lookout over the sea, — the latter having reference to the chance* •f seeing a sail. 824 THE OCEAN WAIFS. On this particular night their vigil, — had it been kept, — might have had a threefold purpose : for it is not to be for- gotten that they were still not so very far from their late pursuers. They too must have been making way with the wind. Neither had the Catamarans forgotten it ; but even with this thought before their minds, they were unable to resist the fascinations of Morpheus ; and leaving the craft to take her own course, the ships, if there were any, to sail silently by, and the big raft, if chance so directed it, to overtake them, they yielded themselves to unconscious slumber. Simultaneously were they awakened, and by a sound that might have awakened the dead. It was a shriek that came pealing over the surface of the ocean, — as unearthly in its intonation as if only the ocean itself could have pro- duced it! It was short, sharp, quick, and clear; and so loud as to startle even Snowball from his torpidity. The Coromantee was the first to inquire into its char- acter. * Wha' de debbil am dat ? " he asked, rubbing his ears to make sure that he was not laboring under a delusion. " Shiver my timbers if I can tell ! " rejoined the sailor, equally puzzled by what he had heard. " Dat soun' berry like da voice o' some 'un go drown, — berry like. Wha' say you, Massa Brace ? " " It was a good bit like the voice of a man cut in two by a shark. That 's what it minded me of." " By golly ! you speak de iroof. It wa jess like that, — ■ jess like the lass s'riek ob Massa Grow." " And yet," continued the sailor, after a moment's reflec- tion, " 't war n't like that ney ther. 'T war n't human, no- Low: leastwise, I niver heerd such come out o' a human throat." " A don't b'lieb de big raff can be near. We hab been ronnin' down de wind ebba since you knock off dat boat- A STAKTUNG SHRIEK. 325 hook. We got de start o' de Pandoras; an' dar's no mis- take but we hab kep de distance. Dat s'riek no come from dem." " Look yonde r ! " cried little William, interrupting the dialogue. " I see something." " Whereaway ? What like be it ? " inquired the sailor. " Yonder ! " answered the lad, pointing over the starboard bow of the Catamaran; "about three cables' length cut in the water. It 's a black lump ; it looks like a boat." " A boat ! Shiver my timbers if thee bean't right, kd. I see it now. It do look somethin' as you say. But what 'ul a boat be doin' here, — out in the middle o' the At- lantic ? " "Dat am a boat," interposed Snowball. "Fo' sartin it am." " It must be," said the sailor, after more carefully scru- tinizing it. " It is ! I see its shape better now. There 's 6ome un in it. I see only one ; ah, he be standin' up in the middle o' it, like a mast. It be a man though ; an' I dare say the same as gi'ed that shout, if he be a human ; though, sartin, there war n't much human in it." As if to confirm the sailor's last assertion, the shriek was repeated, precisely as it had been uttered before; though now, entering ears that were awake, it produced a somewhat different impression. The voice was evidently that of a man. Even under the circumstances, it could be nothing else, but of a man who had taken leave of his senses. It was the wild cry of a maniac ! The crew of the Catamaran might have continued in doubt as to this had they been treated only to a repetition of the shriek ; but this was followed by a series of speeches, — incoherent, it is true, but spoken in an intelligible tongue, and ending in a peal of laughter such as might be heard echoing along the corridors of f lunatic asylum ! 526 THE OCEAN WAIFS. One and all of them stood looking and listening. It was a moonless night, and had been a dark one ; but i. was now close upon morning. Already had the aurora tinged the horizon with roseate hues. The gray light of dawn was beginning to scatter its soft rays over the surface of the ocean ; and objects — had there been any — could be distinguished at a considerable distance. Certainly there was an object, — a thing of boat-shape, with a human form standing near its middle. It was a boat, a man in it ; and, from the exclamation and laughter to which they had listened, there could be no doubt about the man being mad. Mad or sane, why should they shun him ? There were two strong men on the raft, who need not fear to encounter a lunatic under any circumstances, — even in the midst of the ocean. Nor did they fear it ; for as soon as they became f ally convinced that they saw a boat with a man in it, they "ported" the helm of the Catamaran, and stood directly towards it. Less than ten minutes' sailing in the altered course brought them within fair view of the object that had caused them to deviate ; and, after scrutinizing it, less than ten seconds en- abled them to satisfy their minds as to the strange craft and its yet stranger occupant. They saw before them the " gig " of the slaver ; and, stand- ing " midships " in the boat, — just half-way between stem Rnd stern, — they saw the captain of that ill-starred, ill-feted ressel! A MADMAN IN MID-OCEAN. 32? CHAPTER XC. A MADMAN IN MID-OCEAN. IN the minds of the Catamaran 's crew there was no longer any cause for conjecture. The boat-shaped object on the water, and the human form standing up within it, were mys- teries no more ; nor was there any when that boat and that human being were identified. If in the spectacle there was aught still to puzzle them, it was the seeing only one man in the boat instead of six. There should have been six ; since that was the number that the gig had originally carried away from the burning bark, — five others besides the one now seen, — and who, notwithstanding a great change in his appearance, was still recognizable as the slaver's captain. Where were the missing men, — the mates, the carpenter and two common sailors, who had escaped along with him ? Were they in the boat, lying down, and so concealed from the view of those upon the Catamaran ? Or had they succumbed to some fearful fate, leaving only that solitary survivor ? The gig sat high in the water. Those upon the Catamaran could not see over its gunwale unless by approaching nearer, and this they hesitated to da Indeed, on identifying the boat and the individual stand- ing in it, they had suddenly hauled down the sail and were lying to, using their oar to keep them from drifting any nearer. They had done so from an instinctive apprehension They knew that the men who had gone off in the gig were not a whit better than those upon the big raft; for the officers of the slaver, in point of ruffianism, were upon a par with their crew. With this knowledge, it was a que* 328 THE OCEAN WAIFS. tion for consideration whether the Catamarans would be safe in approaching the boat. If the six were still in it, and out of food and water, like those on the large raft, they would undoubtedly despoil the Catamaran, just as the others had designed doing. From such as they no mercy need be expected ; and as it was not likely any succor could be ob- tained from them, it would, perhaps, be better, in every way, to "give them a wide berth." Such were the thoughts that passed hastily through the mind of Ben Brace, and were communicated to his com- panions. Were the five missing men still aboard the boat ? They might be lying down along the bottom, — though ii was not likely they could be asleep ? That appeared almost impossible, considering the shouts and screams which the captain at intervals still continued to send forth. u Ba de great gorramity ! " muttered Snowball, " a doan't b'lieb one ob dem 's lefF 'board dat boat, 'ceptin de ole 'kipper himseff; an ob him dar am nuffin leff cep'n de body. Dat man's intlek am clar gone. He am ravin' mad ! " " You 're right, Snowy," assented the sailor ; " there be ne'er a one there but himself. At all events they ain't all there. I can tell by the way the gig sits up out o' the water. No boat o' her size, wi' six men aboard, could have her gunnel as high as that ere. No ! If there be any besides the captain, there 's only one or two. We need n't fear to go as nigh as we like. Let 's put about, an' board the craft, any how. What say ye ? " " Haben't de leas' objecsnun, Massa Brace, so long you link dar no fear. Dis chile ready take de chance. If dar be any odder cep'n de 'kipper, it no like dey am 'trong 'nuflf to bully we nohow. De two ob us be equal match fo' any four ob dem, — say nuffin ob lilly Will'm." " 1 feel a'most sartin," rejoined the sailor, still undecided, * there be only him. If that's the case, our best way is to A MADMAN IN MID-OCEAN. ?29 elose up, and take possession o' the boat. We niay have some trouble wi' him if lie 's gone mad; au' from the way he be runnin' on, it do look like it. Never mind! I dare say we '11 be able to manage him. Port about, an' let 'a see the thing through." Snowball was at the steering-oar, and, thus commanded by her captain, he once more headed the Catamaran in the direction of the drifting boat, — while the sailor and William betook them to the oars. Whether the occupant of the gig had yet perceived the raft was not certain. It is likely he had not, since the yells and incoherent speeches to which he had been giving utter- ance appeared to be addressed to no one, but were more like — what they believed them to be — the wild ravings of a lunatic. It was still only the gray twilight of morning, with a slight fog upon the water; and although through this the Cata- marans had recognized the gig and captain of the Pandora^ they had done so with certain souvenirs to guide them. Both the boat and its occupant had been seen only indistinctly : and it was possible that the latter had not seen them, and was still unsuspicious of their presence. As they drew nearer, the light at each moment increasing in brightness, there was no longer any uncertainty as to theii being seen ; for, along with the yells uttered by the occupant of the gig, could be heard the significant speeches of, " Sail ho! Ship ahoy! What ship's that? Heave to, and be — ! Heave to, you infernal lubbers ! if you don't I '11 sink you ! " The manner in which these varied phrases were jumbled together, intermingled with screeching exclamations, as well as the excited and grotesque gestures that accompanied them, might have been ludicrous, but for the painful imoression if produced. There was no longer any doubt in the minds of those whc SSO THE OCEAN WAIFS. witnessed his behavior, that the ex-skippei of the Pandora was mad. None but a madman would have spoken, 01 acted, as he was doing. In the state he was in, it would be dangerous to gc near him. This was evident to the occupants of the raft ; and when they had arrived within a half-cable's length of the boat, they suspended the stroke of the oars, — with the inten- tion of entering upon a parley, and seeing how far thtir words might tranquillize him. " Captain ! " cried the sailor, hailing his former commander in a friendly tone of voice : " it *s me ! Don't you know me ? It 's Ben Brace, one o' the old Pandora. We 've been on this bit o' raft ever since the burnin' o' the bark. Myself and Snowball — " At this moment the sailor's epitomized narrative was in- terrupted by a fiendish yell, proceeding from the throat of the maniac. They were now near enough to have a clear view of his face, and could note the expression of his features. The play of these, and the wild rolling of his eyes, confirmed them in their belief as to his insanity. There could be no doubt about it-; but if there had, what soon after succeeded was proof sufficient to satisfy them. During the continuance of the discourse addressed to him by the sailor, he had kept silent, until the word " Snow- ball " fell upon his ears. Then all at once he became terri- bly excited, — as was testified by a terrible shriek, a twitch- ing contortion of his features, and a glaring in his eyes that was awful to benold. " Snowball ! " screamed he ; " Snowoall, you say, do you ? On Dwbali, the infernal dog ! Show him to me ! Ach ! Blood and furies ! it was he that fired my ship. Where is he ? Let me at him! Let me lay my hands upon his black throat ! I 'll teach the sneaking nigger how to carry a jandie tnat '11 light him into the next world. Snowball Wnere, — where is he?" THE INSANE SWIMMER. 331 At this moment his rolling orbs became suddenly steadied, and all could see that his gaze was fixed upon the Coro- mantee with a sort of desperate identification. Snowball might have quailed under that glance, had there been time for him to take heed of it. But there was not: for upon the instant it was given the madman uttered another wild screech, and, rising into the air, sprang several feet over the gunwale of the gig. For a second or two he was lost to sight under the water Then, rising to the surface, he was seen swimming with via;* orous sweep towards the Catamaran. CHAPTER XCI. THE INSANE SWIMMER. A DOZEN strokes would have carried him up to the craft ; which they could not have hindered him from boarding, except by using some deadly violence. To avoid this, the oars were plied ; and the raft rapidly pulled in a contrary direction. For all this, so swiftly did the maniac make way through the water, that it was just as much as they could do to keep the Catamaran clear of his grasp ; and it was only after Ben Brace and Snowball had got fairly bent to their oars, that they could insure themselves against being overtaken. Then became it a chase in which there was no great advantage in speed between the pursued and the pursuer ; though what little there might have been was in favor of the former. How long this singular chase might have continued, it lis impossible to say. Perhaps until the lunatic had exhausted his insane strength, and sunk into the sea : since he appeared 332 THE OCEAN WAIFS. to have no idea of making an attempt to return to the boat tie never looked round to see how far he was leaving it be- hind him. On the contrary, he swam straight on, his eyes steadfastly fixed upon the one object that seemed to have possession of his soul, — the Coromantee ! That it was of him only he was thinking could be told from his speech, — for even while in the water he continued to utter impreca- tions on the head of the negro, — his name being every moment mentioned in terms of menace. The chase could not have lasted much longer, — even had it been permitted to terminate by the exhaustion of the insane swimmer. The supernatural strength of insanity could not forever sustain him; and in due time he would have sunk helplessly to the bottom of the sea. But this was not the sort of death that Fate had designed for him. A still more violent ending of his life was in store for the unfortunate wretch. Though he himself knew it not, those aboard the Catamaran had now become aware of its approach. Behind him, — scarce half a cable's length, — two crea- tures were seen moving through the water. Horrible-look- ing creatures they were: for they were hammer-headed sharks ! Both were conspicuously seen : for they had risen to the surface, and were swimming with their dark dorsal fins protruded above, and set with all the triangular sharp- ness of staysails. Although they had not been observed before by those on the Catamaran, they appeared to have been swimming in the proximity of the gig, — on which, beyond doubt, they had been for some time attending. They were now advancing side by side, in the same direc- tion as the swimmer, and there could be no doubt as to their design. They were evidently in chase of him, with aa much eagerness as he was in chase of the Catamaran, The wretched man neither saw nor thought of them. Even had he seen them it is questionable whether he would THE INSANE SWIMMER. 333 have made any attempt to escape from them. They would, m all likelihood, have appeared a part of the fearful phan tasmagoria already filling his brain. In any case he couid not have eluded those earnest and eager pursuers, — unless by the intervention of those upon the raft ; and even had these wished to succor him, it would have required a most prompt and adroit interference. They did wish it, even became desirous to save him. Their hearts melted within them as they saw the unfortunate man, maniac though he was, in such a situation. Fear him as they might, — and deem him an enemy as they did, — still was he a human being, — one of their own kind, — and their natural instinct of hostility towards those ravenous monsters of the deep had now obliterated that which they might have felt for him about to become their prey. Risking everything from the encounter which they might expect with a madman, they suspended their oars, and then commenced backing towards him. Even Snowball exerted himself to bring the Catamaran within saving distance of the wretch who, in his insane hatred, was threatening his own destruction. Their goods intentions, however, proved of no avail. The man was destined to destruction. Before they could get near enough to make any effective demonstration in his fa- vor, the sharks had closed upon him. They who would have saved him saw it, and ceased their exertions to become spec- tators of the tragical catastrophe. It was a brief affair. The monsters swam up, one on each side of their intended victim, till their uncouth bodies were parallel with his. He saw one of them first, and, with an instinct more true than his dethroned powers of reason, swerved out of the way to avoid it. The effort resulted in placing him within reach of the other, that, suddenly turn- ing upon its side, grasped him between its extended jaws. The shriek that followed appeared to proceed from culj 834 THE OCEAN WAIFS. the half of his body ; for the other half, completely dissev ered, had been already carried off between the terrible teeth of the zygcena. There was but one cry. There was not time for another, even had there been strength. Before it could have been uttered, the remaining moiety of the madman's body was leized by the second shark, and borne down into the voice less abysm of the ocean ! CHAPTER XCII. BOARDING THE BOAT. BACK to the boat ! In the minds of the Catamaran's crew naturally did this resolve succeed to the spectacle they had just witnessed. There was nothing to stay them on that spot. The blood- stained water, which momentarily marked the scene of the tragedy, had no further interest for those who had been spec- tators to it ; and once more heading their craft for the drift- ing gig, they made way towards it as fast as their oars and the sail, now reset, would carry them. They no longer speculated as to the boat being occupied by a crew, — either sleeping or awake. In view of the events that had occurred, it was scarce possible that any one, in either condition, could be aboard of her. She must have been abandoned, before that hour, by all but the solitary individual standing amidships, and pouring out his insane utterances to the ears of the ocean. Where were the men that were missing ? This was the question that occupied the crew of the Catamaran, — as they advanced towards the deserted gig — and to whicb they coul s .tte i n , ivi • . The ocean waifs M61 I 88 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY