The Ocean Waifs, by Captain Mayne Reid. 

________________________________________________________________________This is a fairly remarkable book. The scene opens with several smallvessels drifting about on the ocean. There had been a fire, followedby an explosion aboard a vessel carrying slaves. Most of the crew werepretty nasty people, but there were two pairs of people who become theheroes of this story. One of these is Ben Brace and a sixteen year oldboy seaman, whom he had rescued from being eaten by the thirty or socrew members who had found enough spars, timber, sails, ropes andbarrels to construct a large raft, though rather badly made, becausethese men were consoling themselves with a rum-barrel. At a distancefloated the ship's gig, with the captain, the mate, the carpenter andthree other men. Finally, there is a construction, hardly more than alarge barrel, containing Snowball, an African ship's cook of theCoromantee tribe, together with a little girl of eight or ten. Luckilythese get together with Ben Brace and the boy William, and it is theiradventures that the story is mainly about. The author is a naturalhistorian, and he tells us lots of interesting things about the fishand other denizens of the deep. Naturally the whole thing comes rightin the end, with the wicked perishing, and the good being picked upby a whale-ship. ________________________________________________________________________THE OCEAN WAIFS, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

THE ALBATROSS. 

The "vulture of the sea, " borne upon broad wing, and wandering over thewide Atlantic, suddenly suspends his flight to look down upon an objectthat has attracted his attention. 

It is a raft, with a disc not much larger than a dining-table, constructed out of two small spars of a ship, --the dolphin-striker andspritsail yard, --with two broad planks and some narrower ones lashedcrosswise, and over all two or three pieces of sail-cloth carelesslyspread. 

Slight as is the structure, it is occupied by two individuals, --a manand a boy. The latter is lying along the folds of the sail-cloth, apparently asleep. The man stands erect, with his hand to his forehead, shading the sun from his eyes, and scanning the surface of the sea withinquiring glances. 

At his feet, lying among the creases of the canvas, are a handspike, apair of boat oars, and an axe. Nothing more is perceptible of the raft, even to the keen eye of the albatross. 

The bird continues its flight towards the west. Ten miles farther on itonce more poises itself on soaring wing, and directs its glancedownward. 

Another raft is seen motionless upon the calm surface of the sea, butdiffering from the former in almost everything but the name. It isnearly ten times as large; constructed out of the masts, yards, hatches, portions of the bulwarks, and other timbers of a ship; and renderedbuoyant by a number of empty water-casks lashed along its edges. Asquare of canvas spread between two extemporised masts, a couple ofcasks, an empty biscuit-box, some oars, handspikes, and other maritimeimplements, lie upon the raft; and around these are more than thirtymen, seated, standing, lying, --in short, in almost every attitude. 

Some are motionless, as if asleep; but there is that in their prostratepostures, and in the wild expression of their features, that betokensrather the sleep of intoxication. Others, by their gestures and loud, riotous talk, exhibit still surer signs of drunkenness; and the tin cup, reeking with rum, is constantly passing from hand to hand. A few, apparently sober, but haggard and hungry-like, sit or stand erect uponthe raft, casting occasional glances over the wide expanse, with butslight show of hope, fast changing to despair. 

Well may the sea-vulture linger over this group, and contemplate theirmovements with expectant eye. The instincts of the bird tell him, thatere long he may look forward to a bountiful banquet!

Ten miles farther to the west, though unseen to those upon the raft, thefar-piercing gaze of the albatross detects another unusual object uponthe surface of the sea. At this distance it appears only a speck notlarger than the bird itself, though in reality it is a small boat, --aship's gig, --in which six men are seated. There has been no attempt tohoist a sail; there is none in the gig. There are oars, but no one isusing them. They have been dropped in despair; and the boat liesbecalmed just as the two rafts. Like them, it appears to be adrift uponthe ocean. 

Could the albatross exert a reasoning faculty it would know that thesevarious objects indicated a wreck. Some vessel has either foundered andgone to the bottom, or has caught fire and perished in the flames. 

Ten miles to the eastward of the lesser raft might be discovered truertraces of the lost ship. There might be seen the _debris_ of charredtimbers, telling that she has succumbed, not to the storm, but to fire;and the fragments, scattered over the circumference of a mile, disclosefurther that the fire ended abruptly in some terrible explosion. 

Upon the stern of the gig still afloat may be read the name _Pandora_. The same word may be seen painted on the water-casks buoying up the bigraft; and on the two planks forming the transverse pieces of the lesserone appears _Pandora_ in still larger letters: for these were the boardsthat exhibited the name of the ship on each side of her bowsprit, andwhich had been torn off to construct the little raft by those who nowoccupy it. 

Beyond doubt the lost ship was the _Pandora_. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

SHIP ON FIRE. 

The story of the _Pandora_ has been told in all its terrible details. Aslave-ship, fitted out in England, and sailing from an English port, --alas! not the only one by scores, --manned by a crew of ruffians, scarcetwo of them owning to the same nationality. Such was the bark_Pandora_. 

Her latest and last voyage was to the slave coast, in the Gulf ofGuinea. There, having shipped five hundred wretched beings with blackskins, --"bales" as they are facetiously termed by the trader in humanflesh, --she had started to carry her cargo to that infamous market, --ever open in those days to such a commodity, --the barracoons of Brazil. 

In mid-ocean she had caught fire, --a fire that could not beextinguished. In the hurry and confusion of launching the boats thepinnace proved to be useless; and the longboat, stove in by the fallingof a cask, sank to the bottom of the sea. Only the gig was foundavailable; and this, seized upon by the captain, the mate, and fourothers, was rowed off clandestinely in the darkness. 

The rest of the crew, over thirty in number, succeeded in constructing araft; and but a few seconds after they had pushed off from the sides ofthe ship, a barrel of gunpowder ignited by the flames, completed thecatastrophe. 

But what became of the _cargo_? Ah! that is indeed a tale of horror. 

Up to the last moment those unfortunate beings had been kept underhatches, under a grating that had been fastened down with battens. Theywould have been left in that situation to be stifled in theirconfinement by the suffocating smoke, or burnt alive amid the blazingtimbers, but for one merciful heart among those who were leaving theship. An axe uplifted by the arm of a brave youth--a mere boy--struckoff the confining cleats, and gave the sable sufferers access to theopen air. 

Alas! it was scarce a respite to these wretched creatures, --only achoice between two modes of death. They escaped from the red flames butto sink into the dismal depths of the ocean, --hundreds meeting with afate still more horrible: for there were not less than that number, andall became the prey of those hideous sea-monsters, the sharks. 

Of all that band of involuntary emigrants, in ten minutes after theblowing up of the bark, there was not one above the surface of the sea!Those of them that could not swim had sunk to the bottom, while a worsefate had befallen those that could, --to fill the maws of the ravenousmonsters that crowded the sea around them! At the period when our talecommences, several days had succeeded this tragical event; and thegroups we have described, aligned upon a parallel of latitude, andseparated one from another by a distance of some ten or a dozen miles, will be easily recognised. 

The little boat lying farthest west was the gig of the _Pandora_, containing her brutal captain, his equally brutal mate, the carpenter, and three others of the crew, that had been admitted as partners in thesurreptitious abstraction. Under cover of the darkness they had madetheir departure; but long before rowing out of gun-shot they had heardthe wild denunciations and threats hurled after them by their betrayedassociates. 

The ruffian crew occupied the greater raft; but who were the twoindividuals who had intrusted themselves to that frail embarkation, --seemingly so slight that a single breath of wind would scatter it intofragments, and send its occupants to the bottom of the sea? Such inreality would have been their fate, had a storm sprung up at thatmoment; but fortunately for them the sea was smooth and calm, --as it hadbeen ever since the destruction of the ship. 

But why were they thus separated from the others of the crew: for bothman and boy had belonged to the forecastle of the _Pandora_?

The circumstance requires explanation, and it shall be briefly given. The man was Ben Brace, --the bravest and best sailor on board theslave-bark, and one who would not have shipped in such a craft but forwrongs he had suffered while in the service of his country, and that hadinducted him into a sort of reckless disposition, of which, however, hehad long since repented. 

The boy had also been the victim of a similar disposition. Longing tosee foreign lands, he had _run away to sea_; and by an unlucky accident, through sheer ignorance of her character, had chosen the _Pandora_ inwhich to make his initiatory voyage. From the cruel treatment he hadbeen subjected to on board the bark, he had reason to see his folly. Irksome had been his existence from the moment he set foot on the deckof the _Pandora_; and indeed it would have been scarce endurable but forthe friendship of the brave sailor Brace, who, after a time, had takenhim under his especial protection. Neither of them had any feelings incommon with the crew with whom they had become associated; and it wastheir intention to escape from such vile companionship as soon as anopportunity should offer. 

The destruction of the bark would not have given that opportunity. Onthe contrary, it rendered it all the more necessary to remain with theothers, and share the chances of safety offered by the great raft. Slight as these might be, they were still better than those that mightawait them, exposed on such a frail fabric as that they now occupied. It is true, that upon this they had left the burning vessel separatefrom the others; but immediately after they had rowed up alongside thelarger structure, and made fast to it. 

In this companionship they had continued for several days and nights, borne backward and forward by the varying breezes; resting by day on thecalm surface of the ocean; and sharing the fate of the rest of thecastaway crew. 

What had led to their relinquishing the companionship? Why was BenBrace and his _protege_ separated from the others and once more aloneupon their little raft?

The cause of that separation must be declared, though one almostshudders to think of it. It was to save the boy _from being eaten_ thatBen Brace had carried him away from his former associates; and it wasonly by a cunning stratagem, and at the risk of his own life, that thebrave sailor had succeeded in preventing this horrid banquet from beingmade!

The castaway crew had exhausted the slender stock of provisions receivedfrom the wreck. They were reduced to that state of hunger which nolonger revolts at the filthiest of food; and without even resorting tothe customary method adopted in such terrible crises, they unanimouslyresolved upon the death of the boy, --Ben Brace alone raising a voice ofdissent!

But this voice was not heeded. It was decided that the lad should die:and all that his protector was able to obtain from the fiendish crew, was the promise of a respite for him till the following morning. 

Brace had his object in procuring this delay. During the night, theunited rafts made way under a fresh breeze; and while all was wrapped indarkness, he cut the ropes which fastened the lesser one to the greater, allowing the former to fall astern. As it was occupied only by him andhis _protege_, they were thus separated from their dangerous associates;and when far enough off to run no risk of being heard, they used theiroars to increase the distance. 

All night long did they continue to row against the wind; and as morningbroke upon them, they came to a rest upon the calm sea, unseen by theirlate comrades, and with ten miles separating the two rafts from eachother. 

It was the fatigue of that long spell of pulling--with many a watchfuland weary hour preceding it--that had caused the boy to sink down uponthe folded canvas, and almost on the instant fall asleep; and it was theapprehension of being followed that was causing Ben Brace to standshading his eyes from the sun, and scan with uneasy glance theglittering surface of the sea. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

THE LORD'S PRAYER. 

After carefully scrutinising the smooth water towards every point of thecompass, --but more especially towards the west, --the sailor ceased fromhis reconnoissance, and turned his eyes upon his youthful companion, still soundly slumbering. 

"Poor lad!" muttered he to himself; "he be quite knocked up. No wonder, after such a week as we've had o't. And to think he war so near bein'killed and ate by them crew o' ruffians. I'm blowed if that wasn'tenough to scare the strength out o' him! Well, I dare say he's escapedfrom that fate; but as soon as he has got a little more rest, we musttake a fresh spell at the oars. It 'ud never do to drift back to_them_. If we do, it an't only him they'll want to eat, but me too, after what's happened. Blowed if they wouldn't. "

The sailor paused a moment, as if reflecting upon the probabilities oftheir being pursued. 

"Sartin!" he continued, "they could never fetch that catamaran againstthe wind; but now that it's turned dead calm, they might clap on wi'their oars, in the hope of overtakin' us. There's so many of them topull, and they've got oars in plenty, they might overhaul us yet. "

"O Ben! dear Ben! save me, --save me from the wicked men!"

This came from the lips of the lad, evidently muttered in his sleep. 

"Dash my buttons, if he an't dreaming!" said the sailor, turning hiseyes upon the boy, and watching the movements of his lips. "He betalkin' in his sleep. He thinks they're comin' at him just as they didlast night on the raft! Maybe I ought to rouse him up. If he be adreamin' that way he'll be better awake. It's a pity, too, for he an'thad enough sleep. "

"Oh! they will kill me and eat me. Oh, oh!"

"No, they won't do neyther, --blow'd if they do. Will'm, little Will'm!rouse yourself, my lad. "

And as he said this he bent down and gave the sleeper a shake. 

"O Ben! is it you? Where are they, --those monsters?"

"Miles away, my boy. You be only a dreamin' about 'em. That's why I'veshook you up. "

"I'm glad you have waked me. Oh! it was a frightful dream! I thoughtthey had done it, Ben. "

"Done what, Will'm?"

"What they were going to do. "

"Dash it, no, lad! they an't ate you yet; nor won't, till they've firstput an end o' me, --that I promise ye. "

"Dear Ben, " cried the boy, "you are so good, --you've risked your life tosave mine. Oh! how can I ever show you how much I am sensible of yourgoodness?"

"Don't talk o' that, little Will'm. Ah! lad, I fear it an't much use toeyther o' us. But if we must die, anything before a death like that. I'd rather far that the sharks should get us than to be eat up by one'sown sort. --Ugh! it be horrid to think o't. But come, lad, don't let usdespair. For all so black as things look, let us put our trust inProvidence. We don't know but that His eye may be on us at this minute. I wish I knew how to pray, but I never was taught that ere. Can youpray, little Will'm?"

"I can repeat the Lord's Prayer. Would that do, Ben?"

"Sartain it would. It be the best kind o' prayer, I've heerd say. Geton your knees, lad, and do it. I'll kneel myself, and join with ye inthe spirit o' the thing, tho' I'm shamed to say I disremember most o'the words. "

The boy, thus solicited, at once raised himself into a kneelingposition, and commenced repeating the sublime prayer of the Christian. The rough sailor knelt alongside of him, and with hands crossed over hisbreast in a supplicating attitude, listened attentively, now and thenjoining in the words of the prayer, whenever some phrase recurred to hisremembrance. 

When it was over, and the "Amen" had been solemnly pronounced by thevoices of both, the sailor seemed to have become inspired with a freshhope; and, once more grasping an oar, he desired his companion to do thesame. 

"We must get a little farther to east'ard, " said he, "so as to make sureo' bein' out o' their way. If we only pull a couple of hours afore thesun gets hot, I think we'll be in no danger o' meetin' _them_ any more. So let's set to, little Will'm! Another spell, and then you can rest aslong's you have a mind to. "

The sailor seated himself close to the edge of the raft, and dropped hisoar-blade in the water, using it after the fashion of a canoe-paddle. "Little Will'm, " taking his place on the opposite side, imitated theaction; and the craft commenced moving onward over the calm surface ofthe sea. 

The boy, though only sixteen, was skilled in the use of an oar, andcould handle it in whatever fashion. He had learnt the art long beforehe had thought of going to sea; and it now stood him in good stead. Moreover, he was strong for his age, and therefore his stroke wassufficient to match that of the sailor, given more gently for thepurpose. 

Propelled by the two oars, the raft made way with considerablerapidity, --not as a boat would have done, but still at the rate of twoor three knots to the hour. 

They had not been rowing long, however, when a gentle breeze sprung upfrom the west, which aided their progress in the direction in which theywished to go. One would have thought that this was just what theyshould have desired. On the contrary, the sailor appeared uneasy onperceiving that the breeze blew from the west. Had it been from anyother point he would have cared little about it. 

"I don't like it a bit, " said he, speaking across the raft to hiscompanion. "It helps us to get east'ard, that's true; _but_ it'll helpthem as well--and with that broad spread o' canvas they've rigged up, they might come down on us faster than we can row. "

"Could we not rig a sail too?" inquired the boy. "Don't you think wemight, Ben?"

"Just the thing I war thinkin' o', lad; I dare say we can. Let me see;we've got that old tarpaulin and the lying jib-sail under us. Thetarpaulin itself will be big enough. How about ropes? Ah! there's thesheets of the jib still stickin' to the sail; and then there's thehandspike and our two oars. The oars 'll 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 partiallydrawing the canvas off from the planks and spars, he soon accomplishedthe task of setting the two oars upright upon the raft. This done, thetarpaulin was spread between them, and when lashed so as to lie tautfrom one to the other, presented a surface of several square yards tothe 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 tokeep it head on before the wind; and this could be managed by means ofthe handspike, used as a rudder or steering-oar. 

Laying hold of this, and placing himself abaft of the spread tarpaulin, Ben had the satisfaction of seeing that the sail acted admirably; and assoon as its influence was fairly felt, the raft surged on through thewater 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 ofwould-be cannibals was going any faster; and therefore, whateverdistance they might be off, there would be no great danger of theirgetting any nearer. 

This confidence being firmly established, the sailor no longer gave athought to the peril from which he and his youthful comrade had escaped. For all that, the prospect that lay before them was too terrible topermit their exchanging a word, --either of comfort or congratulation, --and for a long time they sat in a sort of desponding silence, which wasbroken only by the rippling surge of the waters as they swept in pearlyfroth along the sides of the raft. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

HUNGER. --DESPAIR. 

The breeze proved only what sailors call a catspaw, rising no higherthan just to cause a ripple on the water, and lasting only about anhour. When it was over, the sea again fell into a dead calm; itssurface assuming the smoothness of a mirror. 

In the midst of this the raft lay motionless, and the extemporised sailwas of no use for propelling it. It served a purpose, however, inscreening off the rays of the sun, which, though not many degrees abovethe horizon, was beginning to make itself felt in all its tropicalfervour. 

Ben no longer required his companion to take a hand at the oar. Not butthat their danger of being overtaken was as great as ever; for althoughthey had made easterly some five or six knots, it was but natural toconclude that the great raft had been doing the same; and therefore thedistance between the two would be about as before. 

But whether it was that his energy had become prostrated by fatigue andthe hopelessness of their situation, or whether upon further reflectionhe felt less fear of their being pursued, certain it is he no longershowed uneasiness about making way over the water; and after once morerising to his feet and making a fresh examination of the horizon, hestretched himself along the raft in the shade of the tarpaulin. 

The boy, at his request, had already placed himself in a similarposition, and was again buried in slumber. 

"I'm glad to see he can sleep, " said Brace to himself, as he lay downalongside. "He must be sufferin' from hunger as bad as I am myself, andas long as he's asleep he won't feel it. May be, if one could keepasleep 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 asif I'm gone to my bunk without a bite. Well, it an't no use o' metryin' to sleep as I feel now, blow'd if it is! My belly calls out loudenough to keep old Morphis himself from nappin', and there an't a morselo' anything. More than forty hours have passed since I ate that lastquarter biscuit. I can think o' nothing but our shoes, and they be sosoaked wi' the sea-water, I suppose they'll do more harm than good. They'll be sure to make the thirst a deal worse than it is, though theLord knows it be bad enough a'ready. Merciful Father!--nothin' toeat!--nothin' to drink! O God, hear the prayer little Will'm ha' justspoken and I ha' repeated, though I've been too wicked to expect bein'heard, `_Give us this day our daily bread_'! Ah! another day or twowithout it, an' we shall both be asleep forever!"

The soliloquy of the despairing sailor ended in a groan, that awoke hisyoung comrade from a slumber that was at best only transient andtroubled. 

"What is it, Ben?" he asked, raising himself on his elbow, and lookinginquiringly in the face of his protector. 

"Nothing partikler, my lad, " answered the sailor, who did not wish toterrify his companion with the dark thoughts which were troublinghimself. 

"I heard you groaning, --did I not? I was afraid you had seen themcoming after us. "

"No fear o' that, --not a bit. They're a long way off, and in this calmsea they won't be inclined to stir, --not as long as the rum-cask holdsout, I warrant; and when that's empty, they'll not feel much like movin'anywhere. 'Tan't for them we need have any fear now. "

"O Ben! I'm so 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 morethan my share of the two biscuits. It was wrong of me to take it, forI'm sure you must be suffering dreadfully. "

"That's true enough, Will'm; but a bit o' biscuit wouldn't a made nodifference. It must come to the same thing in the end. "

"To what, Ben?" inquired the lad, observing the shadow that hadoverspread the countenance of his companion, which was gloomier than hehad ever seen it. 

The sailor remained silent. He could not think of a way to evade givingthe correct answer to the question; and keeping his eyes averted, hemade no reply. 

"I know what you mean, " continued the interrogator. "Yes, yes, --youmean that we must die!"

"No, no, Will'm, --not that; there's hope yet, --who knows what may turnup? It may be that the prayer will be answered. I'd like, lad, ifyou'd go over it again. I think I could help you better this time; forI 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 mymemory. Go over it again, little Will'm. "

The youth once more knelt upon the raft, and in the shadow of the spreadtarpaulin 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 forsome minutes stood scanning the circle of sea around the raft. 

The faint hope which that trusting reliance in his Maker had inspiredwithin the breast of the rude mariner exhibited itself for a moment uponhis countenance, but only for a moment. No object greeted his vision, save the blue, boundless sea, and the equally boundless sky. 

A despairing look replaced that transient gleam of hope, and, staggeringback behind the tarpaulin, he once more flung his body prostrate uponthe raft. 

Again they lay, side by side, in perfect silence, --neither of themasleep, but both in a sort of stupor, produced by their unspokendespair. 

CHAPTER FIVE. 

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 suchcircumstances does not long surrender itself to a state of tranquillity. 

They were at length suddenly roused from it, --not, however, by anythought from within, --but by an object striking on their externalsenses, or, rather, upon the sense of sight. Both were lying upon theirbacks, with eyes open and upturned to the sky, upon which there was nota speck of cloud to vary the monotony of its endless azure. 

Its monotony, however, was at that moment varied by a number of objectsthat passed swiftly across their field of vision, shining andscintillating as if a flight of silver arrows had been shot over theraft. The hues of blue and white were conspicuous in the brightsunbeams, and those gay-coloured creatures, that appeared to belong tothe air, but which in reality were denizens of the great deep, were atonce recognised by the sailor. 

"A shoal o' flyin'-fish, " he simply remarked, and without removing fromhis recumbent position. 

Then at once, as if some hope had sprung up within him at seeing themcontinue to fly over the raft, and so near as almost to touch thetarpaulin, 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 thetime; for as he gave utterance to it he reached towards the implementthat lay within reach of his hands, and eagerly grasping raised italoft. 

With such a weapon it was probable that he might have succeeded instriking down one of the winged swimmers that, pursued by the bonitosand albacores, were still leaping over the raft. But there was a surerweapon behind him, --in the piece of canvas spread between the uprightoars; and just as the sailor had got ready to wield his huge club, ashining object flashed close to his eyes, whilst his ears were greetedby a glad sound, signifying that one of the vaulting fish had struckagainst the tarpaulin. 

Of course it had dropped down upon the raft: for there it was, floppingand bounding about among the folds of the flying-jib, far more taken bysurprise than Ben Brace, who had witnessed its mishap, or even littleWilliam, upon whose face it had fallen, with all the weight of itswatery carcass. If a bird in the hand be worth two in the bush, by thesame rule a fish in the hand should be worth two in the water, and morethan that number flying in the air. 

Some such calculation as this might have passed through the brain of BenBrace; for, instead of continuing to hold his handspike high flourishedover his head, in the hope of striking another fish, he suffered theimplement to drop down upon the raft; and stooping down, he reachedforward to secure the one that had voluntarily, or, rather, should wesay, involuntarily, offered itself as a victim. 

As it kept leaping about over the raft, there was just the danger thatit might reach the edge of that limited area, and once more escape toits natural element. 

This, however naturally desired by the fish, was the object which theoccupants of the raft most desired to prevent; and to that end both hadgot upon their knees, and were scrambling over the sail-cloth with asmuch eager earnestness as a couple of terriers engaged in a scuffle witha harvest rat. 

Once or twice little William had succeeded in getting the fish in hisfingers; but the slippery creature, armed also with its spinousfin-wings, had managed each time to glide out of his grasp; and it wasstill uncertain whether a capture might be made, or whether after allthey were only to be tantalised by the touch and sight of a morsel offood that was never to pass over their palates. 

The thought of such a disappointment stimulated Ben Brace to put forthall his energies, coupled with his greatest activity. He had evenresolved upon following the fish into the sea if it should provenecessary, --knowing that for the first few moments after regaining itsnatural element it would be more easy of capture. But just then anopportunity was offered that promised the securing of the prey withoutthe necessity of wetting a stitch of his clothes. 

The fish had been all the while bounding about upon the spreadsail-cloth, near the edge of which it had now arrived. But it was fatedto go no farther, at least of its own accord; for Ben seeing hisadvantage, seized hold of the loose selvage of the sail, and raising ita little from the raft, doubled it over the struggling captive. A stiffsqueeze brought its struggles to a termination; and when the canvas waslifted aloft, it was seen lying underneath, slightly flattened outbeyond its natural dimensions, and it is scarcely necessary to say, asdead as a herring. 

Whether right or no, the simple-minded seaman recognised in thisseasonable supply of provision the hand of an overruling Providence; andwithout further question, attributed it to the potency of that prayertwice repeated. 

"Yes, Will'm, you see it, my lad, 'tis the answer to that wonderfulprayer. Let's go over it once more, by way o' givin' thanks. He whohas sent meat can also gie us drink, even here, in the middle o' thebriny ocean. Come, boy! as the parson used to say in church, --let uspray!"

And with this serio-comic admonition--meant, however, in all duesolemnity--the sailor dropped upon his knees, and, as before, echoed theprayer once more pronounced by his youthful companion. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

FLYING-FISH. 

The flying-fish takes rank as one of the most conspicuous "wonders ofthe sea, " and in a tale essentially devoted to the great deep, it is asubject deserving of more than a passing notice. 

From the earliest periods of ocean travel, men have looked withastonishment upon a phenomenon not only singular at first sight, butwhich still remains unexplained, namely, a fish and a creature believedto be formed only for dwelling under water, springing suddenly above thesurface, to the height of a two-storey house, and passing through theair to the distance of a furlong, before falling back into its ownproper element!

It is no wonder that the sight should cause surprise to the mostindifferent observer, nor that it should have been long a theme ofspeculation with the curious, and an interesting subject ofinvestigation to the naturalist. 

As flying-fish but rarely make their appearance except in warmlatitudes, few people who have not voyaged to the tropics have had anopportunity 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 belong. Were there only one kind of thesecurious creatures the answer would be easier. But not only are theredifferent species, but also different "genera" of fish endowed with thefaculty of flying, and which from the earliest times and in differentparts of the world have equally received this characteristicappellation. A word or two about each sort must suffice. 

First, then, there are two species belonging to the genus _Trigla_, orthe Gurnards, to which Monsieur La Cepede has given the name of_Dactylopterus_. 

One species is found in the Mediterranean, and individuals, from a footto fifteen inches in length, are often taken by the fishermen, andbrought 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 theseas around China and Japan. 

The true _flying-fish_, however, that is to say, those that are met within the great ocean, and most spoken of in books, and in the "yarns" ofthe sailor, are altogether of a different kind from the gurnards. Theyare not only different in genus, but in the family and even the order offishes. They are of the genus _Exocetus_, and in form and otherrespects have a considerable resemblance to the common pike. There areseveral species of them inhabiting different parts of the tropical seas;and sometimes individuals, in the summer, have been seen as far north asthe coast of Cornwall in Europe, and on the banks of Newfoundland inAmerica. Their natural habitat, however, is in the warm latitudes ofthe ocean; and only there are they met with in large "schools, " and seenwith 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 allmuch alike in their habits, --differing only in size, colour, and suchlike circumstances. 

Naturalists disagree as to the character of their flight. Some assertthat it is only a leap, and this is the prevailing opinion. Theirreason for regarding it thus is, that while the fish is in the air therecannot be observed any movement of the wings (pectoral fins); and, moreover, after reaching the height to which it attains on its firstspring, it cannot afterwards rise higher, but gradually sinks lower tillit drops suddenly back into the water. 

This reasoning is neither clear nor conclusive. A similar power ofsuspending themselves in the air, without motion of the wings iswell-known to belong to many birds, --as the vulture, the albatross, thepetrels, and others. Besides, it is difficult to conceive of a leaptwenty feet high and two hundred yards long; for the flight of the_Exocetus_ has been observed to be carried to this extent, and evenfarther. It is probable that the movement partakes both of the natureof leaping and flying: that it is first begun by a spring up out of thewater, --a power possessed by most other kinds of fish, --and that theimpulse thus obtained is continued by the spread fins acting on the airafter the fashion of parachutes. It is known that the fish can greatlylighten the specific gravity of its body by the inflation of its"swim-bladder, " which, when perfectly extended, occupies nearly theentire cavity of its abdomen. In addition to this, there is a membranein the mouth which can be inflated through the gills. These tworeservoirs are capable of containing a considerable volume of air; andas the fish has the power of filling or emptying them at will, they nodoubt 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 wouldseem to argue a capacity something more than that of a mere spring orleap. Besides, the wings make a perceptible noise, --a sort ofrustling, --often distinctly heard; and they have been seen to open andclose while the creature is in the air. 

A shoal of flying-fish might easily be mistaken for a flock of whitebirds, though their rapid movements, and the glistening sheen of theirscales--especially when the sun is shining--usually disclose their truecharacter. They are at all times a favourite spectacle, and with allobservers, --the old "salt" who has seen them a thousand times, and theyoung sailor on his maiden voyage, who beholds them for the first timein his life. Many an hour of _ennui_ occurring to the ship-traveller, as he sits upon the poop, restlessly scanning the monotonous surface ofthe sea, has been brought to a cheerful termination by the appearance ofa shoal of flying-fish suddenly sparkling up out of the bosom of thedeep. 

The flying-fish appear to be the most persecuted of all creatures. Itis to avoid their enemies under water that they take _fin_ and mountinto the air; but the old proverb, "out of the frying-pan into thefire, " is but too applicable in their case, for in their endeavours toescape from the jaws of dolphins, albicores, bonitos, and other pettytyrants of the sea, they rush into the beaks of gannets, boobies, albatrosses, and other petty tyrants of the sky. 

Much sympathy has been felt--or at all events expressed--for thesepretty and apparently innocent little victims. But, alas! our sympathyreceives a sad shock, when it becomes known that the flying-fish ishimself one of the petty tyrants of the ocean, --being, like his nearcongener, the pike, a most ruthless little destroyer and devourer of anyfish small enough to go down his gullet. 

Besides the two _genera_ of flying-fish above described, there arecertain other marine animals which are gifted with a similar power ofsustaining themselves for some seconds in the air. They are often seenin the Pacific and Indian oceans, rising out of the water in shoals, just like the _Exoceti_: and, like them, endeavouring to escape from thealbicores and bonitos that incessantly pursue them. These creatures arenot fish in the true sense of the word, but "molluscs, " of the genus_Loligo_; and the name given to them by the whalers of the Pacific isthat of "Flying Squid. "

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

A CHEERING CLOUD. 

The particular species of flying-fish that had fallen into the clutchesof the two starving castaways upon the raft was the _Exocetus evolans_, or "Spanish flying-fish" of mariners, --a well-known inhabitant of thewarmer latitudes of the Atlantic. Its body was of a steel-blue, oliveand silvery white underneath, with its large pectoral fins (its wings)of a powdered grey colour. It was one of the largest of its kind, beingrather over twelve inches in length, and nearly a pound in weight. 

Of course, it afforded but a very slight meal for two hungry stomachs, --such as were those of Ben Brace and his boy companion. Still it helpedto strengthen them a little; and its opportune arrival upon the raft--which they could not help regarding as providential--had the furthereffect of rendering them for a time more cheerful and hopeful. 

It is not necessary to say that they ate the creature without cookingit; and although under ordinary circumstances this might be regarded asa hardship, neither was at that moment in the mood to be squeamish. They thought the dish dainty enough. It was its quantity--not thequality--that failed to give satisfaction. 

Indeed the flying-fish is (when cooked, of course) one of the mostdelicious of morsels, --a good deal resembling the common herring whencaught freshly, and dressed in a proper manner. 

It seemed, however, as if the partial relief from hunger only aggravatedthe kindred appetite from which the occupants of the raft had alreadybegun to suffer. Perhaps the salt-water, mingled with the saline juicesof the fish, aided in producing this effect. In any case, it was notlong after they had eaten the _Exocetus_ before both felt thirst in itsvery keenest agony. 

Extreme thirst, under any circumstances, is painful to endure; but underno conditions is it so excruciating as in the midst of the ocean. Thesight of water which you may not drink, --the very proximity of thatelement, --so near that you may touch it, and yet as useless to theassuaging 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 endeavour to coolyour lips and tongue by taking it into the mouth. To swallow it isstill worse. You might as well think to allay thirst by drinking liquidfire. The momentary moistening of the mouth and tongue is succeeded byan almost instantaneous parching of the salivary glands, which only glowwith redoubled ardour. 

Ben Brace knew this well enough; and once or twice that little Williamlifted the sea-water on his palm and applied it to his lips, the sailorcautioned him to desist, saying that it would do him more harm thangood. 

In one of his pockets Ben chanced to have a leaden bullet, which he gavethe boy, telling him to keep it in his mouth and occasionally to chewit. By this means the secretion of the saliva was promoted; andalthough it was but slight, the sufferer obtained a little relief. 

Ben himself held the axe to his lips, and partly by pressing his tongueagainst the iron, and partly by gnawing the angle of the blade, endeavoured to produce the same effect. 

It was but a poor means of assuaging that fearful thirst that was nowthe sole object of their thoughts, --it might be said their onlysensation, --for all other feelings, both of pleasure or pain, had becomeoverpowered by this one. On food they no longer reflected, though stillhungry; but the appetite of hunger, even when keenest, is far lesspainful than that of thirst. The former weakens the frame, so that thenervous system becomes dulled, and less sensible of the affliction it isenduring; whereas the latter may exist to its extremest degree, whilethe body is in full strength and vigour, and therefore more capable offeeling pain. 

They suffered for several hours, almost all the time in silence. Thewords of cheer which the sailor had addressed to his youthful comradewere now only heard occasionally, and at long intervals, and when heardwere spoken in a tone that proclaimed their utterance to be merelymechanical, and that he who gave tongue to them had but slight hope. Little as remained, however, he would rise from time to time to hisfeet, and stand for a while scanning the horizon around him. Then ashis scrutiny once more terminated in disappointment, he would sink backupon the canvas, and half-kneeling, half-lying, give way for an intervalto a half stupor of despair. 

From one of these moods he was suddenly aroused by circumstances whichhad made no impression on his youthful companion, though the latter hadalso observed it. It was simply the darkening of the sun by a cloudpassing over its disc. 

Little William wondered that an incident of so common character shouldproduce so marked an effect as it had done upon his protector: for thelatter on perceiving that the sun had become shadowed instantly startedto his feet, and stood gazing up towards the sky. A change had comeover his countenance. His eyes, instead of the sombre look of despairobservable but the moment before, seemed now to sparkle with hope. Infact, the cloud which had darkened the face of the sun appeared to haveproduced the very opposite effect upon the face of the sailor!

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

A CANVAS TANK. 

"What is it, Ben?" asked William, in a voice husky and hoarse, from theparched throat through which it had to pass. "You look pleased like; doyou 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 passedover the sun. What is there in that?"

"Ay, what is there in't? That's just what I'm tryin' to make out, Will'm; an' if I'm not mistaken, boy, there's it 't the very thing as weboth wants. "

"Water!" gasped William, his eyes lighting up with gleam of hope. "Arain-cloud you think, Ben?"

"I'm a'most sure o't, Will'm. I never seed a bank o' clouds like themthere wasn't some wet in; and if the wind 'll only drift 'em this way, we may get a shower 'll be the savin' o' our lives. O Lord! in thymercy look down on us, and 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 thedirection from which it's a-blowin'. Ho! As I live, Will'm, there'srain. I can see by the mist it's a-fallin' on the water yonder. It'sstill far away, --twenty mile or so, --but that's nothing; an' if the windholds good in the same quarter, it _must_ come this way. "

"But if it did, Ben, " said William, doubtingly, "what good would it dous? We could not drink much of the rain as it falls, and you know wehave nothing in which to catch a drop of it. "

"But we have, boy, --we have our clothes and our shirts. If the raincomes, it will fall like it always does in these parts, as if it werespillin' out o' a strainer. We'll be soakin' wet in five minutes' time;and then we can wring all out, --trousers, shirts, and every rag we'vegot. "

"But we have no vessel, Ben, --what could we wring the water into?"

"Into our months first: after that--ah! it be a pity. I never thoughto't. We won't be able to save a drop for another time. Any rate, if wecould only get one good quenchin', we might stand it several dayslonger. I fancy we might catch some fish, if we were only sure aboutthe water. Yes, the rain's a-comin' on. Look at yon black clouds; andsee, there's lightning forkin' among 'em. That 's a sure sign it'sraining. Let's strip, and spread out our shirts so as to have themready. "

As Ben uttered this admonition he was about proceeding to pull off hispea-jacket, when an object came before his eyes causing him to desist. At the same instant an exclamatory phrase escaping from his lipsexplained to his companion why he had thus suddenly changed hisintention. The phrase consisted of two simple words, which written aspronounced by Ben were, "Thee tarpolin. "

Little William knew it was "the tarpauling" that was meant. He couldnot be mistaken about that; for, even had he been ignorant of thesailor's pronunciation of the words, the latter at that moment stoodpointing 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 waspointing 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. "You mean--"

"I mean, boy, that there's a vessel big enough to hold gallons, --a dozeno' 'em. "

"You think it would hold water?"

"I'm sure o't, lad. For what else be it made waterproof? I helped tarit myself not a week ago. It'll hold like a rum-cask, I warrant, --ay, an' it'll be the very thing to catch it too. We can keep it spread outa bit wi' a hollow place in the middle, an' if it do rain, there then, --my boy, we'll ha' a pool big enough to swim ye in. Hurrah! it's sure torain. See yonder. It be comin' nearer every minute. Let's be readyfor 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 outto the rain. Come, Will'm, let's look alive!"

William had by this time also risen to his feet; and both now busiedthemselves in unlashing the cords that had kept the hatch-coveringspread between the two oars. 

This occupied only a few seconds of time; and the tarpauling soon laydetached between the extemporised masts, that were still permitted toremain as they had been "stepped. "

At first the sailor had thought of holding the piece of tarred canvas intheir hands; but having plenty of time to reflect, a better plansuggested itself. So long as it should be thus held, they would have nochance of using their hands for any other purpose; and would be in adilemma as to how they should dispose of the water after having"captured it. "

It did not require much ingenuity to alter their programme for thebetter. By means of the flying-jib that lay along the raft, they wereenabled to construct a ridge of an irregular circular shape; and thenplacing the tarpauling upon the top, and spreading it out so that itsedges lapped over this ridge, they formed a deep concavity or "tank" inthe middle, which was capable of holding many gallons of water. 

It only remained to examine the canvas, and make sure there were norents or holes by which the water might escape. This was done with allthe minuteness and care that the circumstances called for; and when thesailor at length became satisfied that the tarpauling was waterproof, hetook the hand of his youthful _protege_ in his own, and both kneelingupon the raft, with their faces turned towards the west watched theapproach of those dark, lowering clouds, as if they had beenbright-winged angels sent from the far sky to deliver them fromdestruction. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

A PLEASANT SHOWER-BATH. 

They had not much longer to wait. The storm came striding across theocean; and, to the intense gratification of both man and boy, the rainwas soon falling upon them, as if a water-spout had burst over theirheads. 

A single minute sufficed to collect over a quart within the hollow ofthe spread tarpauling; and before that minute had transpired, both mighthave been seen lying prostrate upon their faces with their headstogether, near the centre of the concavity, and their lips close to thecanvas, sucking up the delicious drops, almost as fast as they fell. 

For a long time they continued in this position, indulging in that coolbeverage sent them from the sky, --which to both appeared the sweetestthey had ever tasted in their lives. So engrossed were they in itsenjoyment, 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 ina deluge of thick heavy drops, soon saturated their garments through andthrough. But this, instead of being an inconvenience, was ratheragreeable than otherwise, cooling their skins so long parched by thetorrid rays of the sun. 

"Little Will'm, " said Ben, after swallowing about a gallon of therain-water, "didn't I say that He 'as sent us meat, in such good timetoo, could also gi' us som'at to drink? Look there! water enow to lastus for days, lad!"

"'Tis wonderful!" exclaimed the boy. "I am sure, Ben, that Providencehas done this. Indeed, it must be true what I was often told in theSunday school, --that God is everywhere. Here He is present with us inthe midst of this great ocean. O, dear Ben, let's hope He will notforsake us now. I almost feel sure, after what has happened to us, thatthe hand of God will yet deliver us from our danger. "

"I almost feel so myself, " rejoined the sailor, his countenance resumingits wonted expression of cheerfulness. "After what's happened, onecould not think otherwise; but let us remember, lad, that He is upaloft, an' has done so much for us, expecting us to do what we can forourselves. He puts the work within our reach, an' then leaves us to doit. Now here's this fine supply o' water. If we was to let that go toloss, 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 rainwill be over. I know the sort o' it. It be only one o' these heavyshowers as falls near the line, and won't last more than half an hour, --if that. Then the sun 'll be out as hot as ever, an' will lick up thewater 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 downupon a booby's back. "

"O dear! what shall we do to prevent evaporating?"

"Jest give me a minute to consider, " rejoined the sailor, scratching hishead, and putting on an air of profound reflection; "maybe afore therain quits comin' down, I'll think o' some way to keep it fromevaporating; that's what you call the dryin' o' it up. "

Ben remained for some minutes silent, in the thoughtful attitude he hadassumed, --while William, who was equally interested in the result of hiscogitations, watched his countenance 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 I've found a way tostow the water even without a cask. "

"You have!" joyfully exclaimed William. "How, Ben?"

"Well, you see, boy, the tarpolin holds water as tight as if 'twere aglass bottle. I tarred it myself, --that did I, an' as I never did mywork lubber-like, I done that job well. Lucky I did, warn't it, William?"

"It was. "

"That be a lesson for you, lad. Schemin' work bean't the thing, yousee. It comes back to cuss one; while work as be well did be often likea blessin' arterward, --just as this tarpolin be now. But see! as I toldyou, the rain would soon be over. There be the sun again, hot an' fieryas ever. There ain't no time to waste. Take a big drink, afore I putthe stopper into the bottle. "

William, without exactly comprehending what his companion meant by thelast words, obeyed the injunction; and stretching forward over the rimof the improvised tank, once more placed his lips to the water, anddrank copiously. Ben did the same for himself, passing several pints ofthe 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 mightbe able to render prompt and efficient aid; for it would require both ofthem, and with all their hands, to carry it out. 

The sailor's scheme was sufficiently ingenious. It consisted in takingup first the corners of the tarpauling, then the edges all around, andbringing them together in the centre. This had to be done with greatcare, so as not to jumble the volatile fluid contained within thecanvas, and spill it over the selvage. Some did escape, but only a verylittle; and they at length succeeded in getting the tarpauling formedinto a sort of bag, puckered around the mouth. 

While Ben with both arms held the gathers firm and fast, William passeda loop of strong cord, that had already been made into a noose for thepurpose, around the neck of the bag, close under Ben's wrists, and thendrawing the other end round one of the upright oars, he pulled upon thecord with all his might. 

It soon tightened sufficiently to give Ben the free use of his hands;when with a fresh loop taken around the crumpled canvas, and after aturn or two to render it more secure, the cord was made fast. 

The tarpauling now rested upon the raft, a distended mass, like thestomach of some huge animal coated with tar. It was necessary, however, lest the water should leak out through the creases, to keep the topwhere it was tied, uppermost; and this was effected by taking a turn ortwo of the rope round the uppermost end of one of the oars, that hadserved for masts, and there making a knot. By this means the greatwater-sack was held in such a position that, although the contents might"bilge" about at their pleasure, not a drop could escape out either atthe neck or elsewhere. 

Altogether they had secured a quantity of water, not less than a dozengallons, which Ben had succeeded in stowing to his satisfaction. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

THE PILOT-FISH. 

This opportune deliverance from the most fearful of deaths had inspiredthe sailor with a hope that they might still, by some furtherinterference of Providence, escape from their perilous position. Relying on this hope, he resolved to leave no means untried that mightpromise to lead to its realisation. They were now furnished with astock of water which, if carefully hoarded, would last them for weeks. If they could only obtain a proportionate supply of food, there wouldstill be a chance of their sustaining life until some ship might makeits appearance, --for, of course, they thought not of any other means ofdeliverance. 

To think of food was to think of fishing for it. In the vast reservoirof 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, theirefforts to capture even a single fish might be exerted in vain. 

Still they could try; and with that feeling of hopeful confidence whichusually precedes such trials, they set about making preparations. 

The first thing was to make hooks and lines. There chanced to be somepins in their clothing; and with these Ben soon constructed a tolerableset of hooks. A line was obtained by untwisting a piece of rope, andrespinning it to the proper thickness; and then a float was found bycutting a piece of wood to the proper dimensions. And for a sinkerthere was the leaden bullet with which little William had of late sovainly endeavoured to allay the pangs of thirst. The bones and fins ofthe 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 amorsel of flesh left upon them; but Ben knew that there are many kindsof fish inhabiting the great ocean that will seize at any sort ofbait, --even a piece of rag, --without considering whether it be good forthem 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 despairingof relief to the more painful appetite, they had made no attempt tocapture them. Now, however, they were determined to set about it inearnest. 

The rain had ceased falling; the breeze no longer disturbed the surfaceof the sea. The clouds had passed over the canopy of the heavens, --thesky was clear, and the sun 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 thesurface, and far over the ocean. 

William on the other side of the raft was armed with hook and line, andequally on the alert. 

For a long time their vigil was unrewarded. No living thing came withinview. Nothing was under their eyes save the boundless field ofultramarine, --beautiful, but to them, at that moment, marked only by amiserable monotony. 

They had stood thus for a full hour, when an exclamation escaping fromthe lad, caused his companion to turn and look to the other side of theraft. 

A fish was in sight. It was that which had drawn the exclamation fromthe 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 perceivingthat the sailor did not share it. On the contrary, a cloud came overthe countenance of the latter on perceiving the fish, --whose species heat once recognised. 

And why? for it was one of the most beautiful of the finny tribe. Alittle creature of perfect form, --of a bright azure blue, withtransverse bands of deeper tint, forming rings around its body. Why didBen Brace show disappointment at its appearance?

"You needn'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. I dare sayits master an't far off. "

"What is it?"

"That be the _pilot-fish_. See! turns away from us. It gone back tohim as has sent it. "

"Sent it! Who, Ben?"

"A shark, for sarten. Didn't I tell ye? Look yonder. Two o' them, asI live; and the biggest kind they be. Slash my timbers if I iver seesuch a pair! They have fins like lug-sails. Look! the pilot's gone toguide 'em. Hang me if they bean't a-comin' this way!"

William had looked in the direction pointed out by his companion. Hesaw the two great dorsal fins standing several feet above the water. Heknew them to be those of the _white shark_: for he had already seenthese dreaded monsters of the deep on more than one occasion. 

It was true, as Ben had hurriedly declared. The little pilot-fish, after coming within twenty fathoms of the raft, had turned suddenly inthe water, and gone back to the sharks; and now it was seen swimming afew 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 uglycreatures; and to say the truth, Ben did not behold them without acertain feeling of alarm. On the deck of a ship they might have beenregarded without any fear; but upon a frail structure like that whichsupported the castaways--their feet almost on a level with the surfaceof the water--it was not so very improbable that the sharks might attackthem!

In his experience the sailor had known cases of a similar kind. It wasno matter of surprise, that he should feel uneasiness at their approach, if not actual fear. 

But there was no time left either for him to speculate as to theprobabilities of such an attack, or for his companion to question himabout them. 

Scarcely had the last words parted from his lips, when the foremost ofthe two sharks was seen to lash the water with its broad forked tail, --and then coming on with a rush, it struck the raft with such a force asalmost to capsize it. 

The other shark shot forward in a similar manner; but glancing a littleto 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 turning once more inthe water appeared intent upon renewing the attack. 

Ben and the boy had dropped their hooks and lines, --the formerinstinctively arming himself with the axe, while the latter seized uponthe spare handspike. Both stood ready to receive the second charge ofthe enemy. 

It was made almost on the instant. The shark that had just attacked wasthe first to return; and coming on with the velocity of an arrow, itsprang clear above the surface, projecting its hideous jaws over theedge of the raft. 

For a moment the frail structure was in danger of being either capsizedor swamped altogether, and then the fate of its occupants wouldundoubtedly have been to become "food for sharks. "

But it was not the intention of Ben Brace or his youthful comrade toyield up their lives without striking a blow in self-defence, and thatgiven by the sailor at once disembarrassed him of his antagonist. 

Throwing one arm around a mast, in order to steady himself, and raisingthe light axe in the other, he struck outward and downward with all hismight. The blade of the axe, guided with an unswerving arm, fell rightupon the snout of the shark, just midway between its nostrils, cleavingthe cartilaginous flesh to the depth of several inches, and laying itopen to the bones. 

There could not have been chosen a more vital part upon which to inflicta wound; for, huge as is the white shark, and strong and vigorous as areall animals of this ferocious family, a single blow upon the nose with ahandspike or even a billet of wood, if laid on with a heavy hand, willsuffice to put an end to their predatory courses. 

And so was it with the shark struck by the axe of Ben Brace. As soon asthe blow had been administered, the creature rolled over on its back;and after a fluke or two with its great forked tail, and a tremulousshivering through its body, it lay floating upon the water motionless asa log of wood. 

William was not so fortunate with his antagonist, though he hadsucceeded in keeping it off. Striking wildly out with the handspike ina horizontal direction, he had poked the butt end of the implement rightbetween the jaws of the monster, just as it raised its head over theraft with the mouth wide open. 

The shark, seizing the handspike in its treble row of teeth, with oneshake of its head whipped it out of the boy's hands: and then rushing onthrough 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 ofmeat. 

In a few seconds not a bit of the handspike could be seen, --save sometrifling fragments of the fibrous wood that floated on the surface ofthe water; but what gave greater gratification to those who saw them, was the fact that the shark which had thus made "mince-meat" of thepiece of timber was itself no longer to be seen. 

Whether because it had satisfied the cravings of its appetite by thatwooden banquet, or whether it had taken the alarm at witnessing the fateof its companion, --by much the larger of the two, --was a question ofslight importance either to Ben Brace or to William. For whateverreason, and under any circumstances, they were but too well pleased tobe disembarrassed of its hideous presence; and as they came to theconclusion that it had gone off for good, and saw the other one lyingwith its white belly turned upwards upon the 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 ELEVEN. 

A LENTEN DINNER. 

The shark struck upon the snout, though killed by the blow, continued tofloat near the surface of the water its fins still in motion as if inthe act of swimming. 

One unacquainted with the habits of these sea-monsters might havesupposed that it still lived, and might yet contrive to escape. Not sothe sailor, Ben Brace. Many score of its kind had Ben coaxed to take abait, and afterwards helped to haul over the gangway of a ship and cutto pieces upon the deck; and Ben knew as much about the habits of thesevoracious creatures as any sailor that ever crossed the wide ocean, andmuch more than any naturalist that never did. He had seen a shark drawnaboard with a great steel hook in its stomach, --he had seen its bellyripped up with a jack-knife, the whole of the intestines taken out, thenonce more thrown into the sea; and after all this rough handling he hadseen the animal not only move its fins, but actually swim off somedistance from the ship! He knew, moreover, that a shark may be cut intwain, --have the head separated from the body, --and still exhibit signsof vitality in both parts for many hours after the dismemberment! Talkof the killing of a cat or an eel!--a shark will stand as much killingas 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 wherethe sailor had chosen to make his hit; and a blow delivered there withan axe, or even a handspike, usually puts a termination to the career ofthis 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 troubleus any more. Where's the other un?"

"Gone out that way, " answered the boy, pointing in the direction takenby the second and smaller of the two sharks. "He whipped the handspikeout of my hands, and he's craunched it to fragments. See! there aresome of the pieces floating on the water!"

"Lucky you let go, lad; else he might ha' pulled you from the raft. Idon't think he'll 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'tain't goin' to sink! Ha! I must hinder that. Quick, Will'm, shy methat piece o' sennit: we must secure him 'fore he gives clean up andgoes 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 fishenough to last us through the longest Lent. There now! keep on theother edge of the craft so as to balance me. So-so!"

While the sailor was giving these directions, he was busy with bothhands in forming a running-noose on one end of the sennit-cord, whichWilliam on the instant had handed over to him. It was but the work of amoment to make the noose; another to let it down into the water; a thirdto 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 donewas to secure the other end of the sennit to the upright oar; and thecarcass of the shark was thus kept afloat near the surface of the water. 

To guard against a possible chance of the creature's recovery, Ben oncemore laid hold of the axe; and, leaning over the edge of the raft, administered a series of smart blows upon its snout. He continuedhacking away, until the upper jaw of the fish exhibited the appearanceof a butcher's chopping-block; and there was no longer any doubt of thecreature being as "dead as a herring. "

"Now, Will'm, " said the shark-killer, "this time we've got a fishthat'll gi'e us a fill, lad. Have a little patience, and I'll cut ye asteak 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 Ican get at him. "

The boy did as directed; and Ben, once more bending over the edge of theraft, caught hold of one of the caudal fins, and with his knife detacheda large flake from the flank of the fish, --enough to make an ample mealfor both of them. 

It is superfluous to say that, like the little flying-fish, theshark-meat had to be eaten raw; but to men upon the verge of starvationthere is no inconvenience in this. Indeed, there are many tribes ofSouth-Sea Islanders--not such savage either--who habitually eat theflesh of the shark--both the blue and white species--without thinking itnecessary even to warm it over a fire! Neither did the castaway Englishsailor nor his young comrade think it necessary. Even had a fire beenpossible, they were too hungry to have stayed for the process ofcooking; and both, without more ado, dined upon raw shark-meat. 

When they had succeeded in satisfying the cravings of hunger, and oncemore refreshed themselves with a draught from their extemporisedwater-bag, the castaways not only felt a relief from actual suffering, but a sort of cheerful confidence in the future. This arose from aconviction on their part, or at all events a strong impression, that thehand of Providence had been stretched out to their assistance. Theflying-fish, the shower, the shark may have been accidents, it is true;but, occurring at such a time, just in the very crisis of theiraffliction, they were accidents that had the appearance of design, --design on the part of Him to whom in that solemn hour they had upliftedtheir voices in prayer. 

It was under this impression that their spirits became naturallyrestored; and once more they began to take counsel together about theways and means of prolonging their existence. 

It is true that their situation was still desperate. Should a stormspring up, --even an ordinary gale, --not only would their canvaswater-cask be bilged, and its contents spilled out to mingle with thebriny billow, but their frail embarkation would be in danger of going topieces, or of being whelmed fathoms deep under the frothing waves. In ahigh latitude, either north or south, their chance of keeping afloatwould have been slight indeed. A week, or rather only a single day, would have been as long as they could have expected that calm tocontinue; and the experienced sailor knew well enough that anything inthe shape of a storm would expose them to certain destruction. Toconsole him for this unpleasant knowledge, however, he also knew that inthe ocean, where they were then afloat, storms are exceedingly rare, andthat ships are often in greater danger from the very opposite state ofthe atmosphere, --from _calms_. They were in that part of the AtlanticOcean known among the early Spanish navigators as the _HorseLatitudes_, --so-called because the horses at that time being carriedacross to the New World, for want of water in the becalmed ships, diedin great numbers, and being thrown overboard were often seen floatingupon the surface of the sea. 

A prettier and more poetical name have these same Spaniards given to aportion of the same Atlantic Ocean, --which, from the gentleness of itsbreezes, they have styled "_La Mar de las Damas_" (the Ladies' Sea). 

Ben Brace knew that in the Horse Latitudes storms were of rareoccurrence; and hence the hopefulness with which he was now lookingforward to the future. 

He was no longer inactive. If he believed in the special Interferenceof Providence, he also believed that Providence would expect him to makesome exertion of himself, --such as circumstances might permit andrequire. 

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

FLENSING A SHARK. 

The flesh of the shark, and the stock of water so singularly obtainedand so deftly stored away, might, if properly kept and carefully used, last them for many days; and to the preservation of these stores thethoughts of the sailor and his young companion were now speciallydirected. 

For the former they could do nothing more than had been already done, --further than to cover the tarpauling that contained it with severalfolds of the spare sail-cloth, in order that no ray of the sun shouldget near it. This precaution was at once adopted. 

The flesh of the shark--now dead as mutton--if left to itself, wouldsoon spoil, and be unfit for food, even for starving men. It was thisreflection that caused the sailor and his _protege_ to take counseltogether as to what might be done towards preserving it. 

They were not long in coming to a decision. Shark-flesh, like that ofany other fish--like haddock, for instance, or red herrings--can bedried in the sun; and the more readily in that sun of the torrid zonethat shone down so hotly upon their heads. The flesh only needed to becut into thin slices and suspended from the upright oars. Theatmosphere would soon do the rest. Thus cured, it would keep for weeksor months; and thus did the castaways determine to cure it. 

No sooner was the plan conceived, than they entered upon its execution. Little William again seized the cord of sennit, and drew the hugecarcass close up to the raft; while Ben once more opened the blade ofhis sailor's knife, and commenced cutting off the flesh in broadflakes, --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 _flense_ it in a similarfashion, when an ejaculation escaped him, expressing surprise orpleasant curiosity. 

Little William was but too glad to perceive the pleased expression onthe countenance of his companion, --of late so rarely seen. 

"What is it, Ben?" he inquired, smilingly. 

"Look 'ee theer, lad, " rejoined the sailor, placing his hand upon theback 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 mewhat you see. "

"Where?" asked William, still ignorant of the object to which hisattention was thus forcibly directed. 

"Don't you see somethin' queery stickin' to the belly of the shark, --eh, lad?"

"As I live, " rejoined William, now perceiving "somethin'", "there's asmall fish pushing his head against the shark, --not so small either, --only in comparison with the great shark himself. It's about a footlong, I should think. But what is it doing in that odd position?"

"Sticking to the shark, --didn't I tell 'ee, lad!"

"Sticking to the shark? You don't mean that, Ben?"

"But I do--mean that very thing, boy. It's as fast theer as a barnacleto a ship's copper; an' 'll stay, I hope, till I get my claws upon it, --which won't take very long from now. Pass a piece o' cord this way. Quick. "

The boy stretched out his hand, and, getting hold of a piece of loosestring, reached it to his companion. Just as the snare had been madefor the shark with the piece of sennit, and with like rapidity, a noosewas constructed on the string; and, having been lowered into the water, was passed around the body of the little fish which appeared adhering tothe belly of the shark. Not only did it so appear, but it actually was, as was proved by the pull necessary to detach it, and which required allthe strength that lay in the strong arms of the sailor. 

He succeeded, however, in effecting his purpose; and with a pluck theparasite 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 leapback into the water, and, sluggish swimmer as it was, escape out ofreach, Ben, with the knife which he still held unclasped in his hand, pinned it to one of the planks, and in an instant terminated itsexistence. 

"What sort of a fish is it?" asked William, as he looked upon the oddcreature 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. Didn't you see it suckin' at this 'un afore I pulled it fromthe teat? Ha! ha! ha!"

"Surely it wasn't that, Ben?" said the lad, mystified by Ben's remark. 

"Well, boy, I an't, going to bamboozle ye. All I know is that itfastens onto sharks, and only this sort, which are called _whitesharks_; for I never seed it sticking to any o' the others, --of whichthere 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, becauseI've seed the creature stickin' just the same way to the coppered bottomo' a ship, and likewise to the sides o' rocks under the water. Now, itcouldn't get anything out o' the copper to live upon, nor yet out o' arock, --could it?"

"Certainly not. "

"Then it couldn't be a suckin' them. Besides, I've seed the stomachs o'several cut open, and they were full of little water-creepers, --such asthere's thousands o' kinds in the sea. I warrant if we rip this 'un upthe belly, we'll 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 saythat it sucks. There was a doctor as belonged in the man-o'-war where Isarved for two years, as was larned in all such curious things. He saidthat the suckin'-fish be a bad swimmer; and that I know myself to betrue. You can tell by the smallness o' its fins. Well, the doctor, hesay, it fastens on to the sharks and ships so as to get carried fromplace to place, and to the rocks to rest itself. Whenever it takes anotion, it can slip off, and go a huntin' for its prey; and then comeback again and take a fresh grip on whatever it has chosen to lodgeitself. "

"It's that curious thing along the back of its head that enables it tohold on, isn't it?"

"That's its sticking-machine; and, what be curious, Will'm, if you wereto try to pull it off upwards or backwards you couldn't do it wi' allyour strength, nor I neither: you must shove it forrard, as you seed medo just now, or else pull it to pieces before it would come off. "

"I can see, " said William, holding the fish up to his eyes, "that thereare rows of little teeth in that queer top-knot it's got, all turnedtowards the tail. It is they, I suppose, that prevent its slippingbackwards?"

"No doubt, lad, --no doubt it be that. But never mind what it be justnow. Let us finish flensin' o' the shark; and then if we feel hungry wecan 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 nativescatch 'em with hooks and lines; but I've seen them there much biggerthan this 'un, --three feet long, and more. "

And so saying, the sailor returned to the operation, thus temporarilysuspended, --the _flensing_ of the shark. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

THE SUCKING-FISH. 

The fish that had thus singularly fallen into their hands was, as Benhad stated, the sucking-fish, _Echeneis remora_, --one of the mostcurious creatures that inhabit the sea. Not so much from anypeculiarity 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 keepingcompany with the ferocious tyrant of the deep, on whom it constantlyattends. 

Its body is black and smooth, its head of a hideous form, and its finsshort and broadly spread. The mouth is very large, with the lower jawprotruding far beyond the upper, and it is this that gives to it thecast of feature, if we may be permitted to speak of "features" in afish. 

Both lips and jaws are amply provided with teeth; and the throat, palate, and tongue are set profusely with short spines. The eyes aredark, and set high up. The "sucker" or buckler upon the top of its headconsists of a number of bony plates, set side by side, so as to form anoval disc, and armed along the edges with little tentacles, or teeth, asthe boy William had observed. 

His companion's account of the creature was perfectly correct, so far asit went; but there are many other points in its "history" quite ascurious as those which the sailor had communicated. 

The fish has neither swim-bladder nor sound; and as, moreover, its finsare of the feeblest kind, it is probably on this account that it hasbeen gifted with the power of adhering to other floating bodies, by wayof compensation for the above-named deficiencies. The slow and prowlingmovements of the white shark, render it particularly eligible for thepurposes of the sucking-fish, either as a resting-place or a means ofconveyance from place to place; and it is well-known that the shark isusually attended by several of these singular satellites. Otherfloating objects, however, are used by the sucking-fish, --such as piecesof timber, the keel of a ship; and it even rests itself against thesides of submerged rocks, as the sailor had stated. It also adheres towhales, turtles, and the larger kinds of albacore. 

Its food consists of shrimps, marine insects, fragments of molluscousanimals, and the like; but it obtains no nutriment through thesucking-apparatus, nor does it in any way injure the animal to which itadheres. It only makes use of the sucker at intervals; at other times, swimming around the object it attends, and looking out for prey of itsown choice, and on its own account. While swimming it propels itself byrapid lateral movements of the tail, executed awkwardly and with atortuous motion. 

It is itself preyed upon by other fish, --diodons and albacores; but theshark is merciful to it, as to the pilot-fish, and never interferes withit. 

Sucking-fish are occasionally seen of a pure white colour associatingwith the black ones, and also attending upon the shark. They aresupposed to be merely varieties or _albinos_. 

When sharks are hooked and drawn on board a ship, the sucking-fishesthat have been swimming around them will remain for days, and evenweeks, following the vessel throughout all her courses. They can thenbe taken by a hook and line, baited with a piece of flesh; and they willseize the bait when let down in the stillest water. In order to securethem, however, it is necessary, after they have been hooked, to jerkthem quickly out of the water; else they will swim rapidly to the sideof the ship, and fix their sucker so firmly against the wood, as to defyevery attempt to dislodge them. 

There are two well-known species of sucking-fish, --the common onedescribed, and another of larger size, found in the Pacific, the_Echeneis australis_. The latter is a better shaped fish than itscongener, can swim more rapidly, and is altogether of a more activehabit. 

Perhaps the most interesting fact in the history of the _Echeneis_ isits being the same fish as that known to the Spanish navigators as the_remora_, and which was found by Columbus in possession of the nativesof 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 ringalready fastened round the tail, at the smallest part between theventral 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 arock upon the beach. The _remora_ being thus set--just as one would seta baited hook--was left free to follow its own inclinations, --whichusually were to fasten its sucking-plates against the shell of one ofthe great sea-turtles, --so famed at aldermanic feasts and prized bymodern _gourmets_, and equally relished by the ancient Cuban _caciques_. 

At intervals, the turtle-catcher would look to his line; and when theextra strain upon it proved that the _remora_ was _en rapport_ with aturtle, he would haul in, until the huge _chelonian_ was brought withinstriking distance of his heavy club; and thus would the capture beeffected. 

Turtles of many hundreds' weight could be taken in this way; for thepull upon the _remora_ being towards the tail, --and therefore in abackward direction, --the sucking-fish could not be detached, unless bythe most violent straining. 

It is a fact of extreme singularity, that a similar method of capturingturtles is practised on the coast of Mozambique at the present day, andby a people who never could have had any communication with theaborigines of the West Indian Islands, much less have learnt from themthis curious craft of angling with a fish!

A smaller species of the sucking-fish is found in the Mediterranean, --the _Echeneis remora_. It was well-known to the ancient writers;though, like most creatures gifted with any peculiarity, it was oftenerthe subject of fabulous romance than real history. It was supposed tohave the power of arresting the progress of a ship, by attaching itselfto the keel and pulling in a contrary direction! A still moreridiculous virtue was attributed to it: in the belief that, if anycriminal in dread of justice could only succeed in inducing the judge topartake of a portion of its flesh, he would be able to obtain a longdelay before the judge could pronounce the verdict of his condemnation!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

A SAIL OF SHARK-FLESH. 

It wanted but a little while of sunset, when the sailor and his youngcomrade had finished flensing the shark. The raft now exhibited quitean altered appearance. Between the two upright oars several pieces ofrope had been stretched transversely, and from these hung suspended thebroad thin flitches of the shark's flesh, that at a distance might havebeen mistaken for some sort of a sail. Indeed, they acted as such; fortheir united discs presented a considerable breadth of surface to thebreeze, which had sprung up as the evening approached, and the raft bythis means moved through the water with considerable rapidity. 

There was no effort made to steer it. The idea of reaching land wasentirely out of the question. Their only hope of salvation lay in theirbeing seen from a ship; and as a ship was as likely to come from onedirection as another, it mattered not to which of the thirty-two pointsof the compass their raft might be drifting. Yes, it _did_ matter. Sothought Ben Brace, on reflection. 

It might be of serious consequence, should the raft make way to thewestward. Somewhere in that direction--how far neither could guess--that greater raft, with its crew of desperate ruffians, --those drunkenwould-be cannibals, --must be drifting about, like themselves, at themercy of winds and waves: perhaps more than themselves suffering thedire extreme of thirst and hunger. Perhaps, ere then, one of their ownnumber may have been forced to submit to the horrid fate which they haddesigned for little William; and which, but for the interference of hisgenerous protector, would most certainly have befallen him. 

Should he again fall into their clutches, there would be but slightchance of a second escape. His protector knew that. Ben knew, moreover, that his own life would be equally sure of being sacrificed tothe resentment of the ribald crew, with whom he had formerly associated. 

No wonder, as he felt the breeze blowing on his cheek, that he lookedtowards the setting sun, to ascertain in what direction the raft wasbeing borne. No wonder that his anxious glance became changed to a lookof satisfaction when he perceived that they were moving eastward. 

"To the east'ard it are, sure enough, " said he, "and that be curioustoo. 'T an't often I've see'd the wind blow from the westward in theselatitudes. Only another catspaw in the middle o' the calm. 'T won'tlast long; though it won't matter, so long's it don't turn and blow ust'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 precedingday was fresh in his memory. That scene, where half a score offiend-like monsters, threatening his life, were kept at bay by oneheroic man, --that was a tableau too terrible to be soon forgotten. 

Nor had he forgotten it, even for a moment. Perhaps, during that briefconflict with the sharks, the nearer danger may have driven it for aninterval out of his mind; but that over, the dread remembrance returnedagain; and every now and then, --even while engaged in the varied laboursthat had occupied them throughout the day, --in a sort of waking dream hehad recalled that fearful vision. Often--every few minutes in fact--hadhis eyes been turned involuntarily towards the west, --where, instead oflooking hopefully for a ship, his anxious glance betrayed a fear thatany dark object might be seen in that direction. 

On finishing their task, both were sufficiently fatigued, --the strongsailor as well as his feebler companion. The former still kept hisfeet, anxiously scanning the horizon; while the latter laid himselfalong the bare boards of the raft. 

"Little Will'm, " said the sailor, looking down at the boy, and speakingin gentle tones, "you'd better spread the sail under ye, and get somesleep. There be no use in both o' us keeping awake. I'll watch till itgets dark, an' then I'll join you. Go to sleep, lad! go to sleep!"

William was too wearied to make objection. Drawing the skirt of thesail over the raft, he lay down upon it, and found sleep almost as soonis he had composed himself into the attitude to enjoy it. 

The sailor remained standing erect; now sweeping the horizon with hisglance, now bending his eye restlessly upon the water as it rippledalong the edge of the raft, and again returning to that distantscrutiny, --so oft repeated, so oft unrewarded. 

Thus occupied, he passed the interval of twilight, --short in theselatitudes; nor did he terminate his vigil until darkness had descendedupon the deep. 

It promised to be a dark, moonless night. Only a few feebly gleamingstars, thinly scattered over the firmament, enabled him to distinguishthe canopy of the sky from the waste of waters that surrounded him. Even a ship under full spread of canvas could not have been seen, thoughpassing at a cable's length from the raft. 

It was idle to continue the dreary vigil; and having arrived at thisconviction, the sailor stretched himself alongside his slumberingcompanion, and, like the latter, was soon relieved from hislong-protracted anxiety by the sweet oblivion of sleep. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE. 

For several hours both remained wrapped in slumber, oblivious of theperils through which they had passed, --equally unconscious of thedangers that surrounded and still lay before them. 

What a picture was there, --with no human eye to behold it! Two humanforms, a sailor and a sailor-boy, lying side by side upon a raft scarcetwice the length of their own bodies, in the midst of a vast ocean, landless and limitless as infinity itself both softly and soundlyasleep, --as if reposing upon the pillow of some secure couch, with thefirm earth beneath and a friendly roof extended over them! Ah, it was astriking tableau, that frail craft with its sleeping crew, --such aspectacle as is seldom seen by human eye!

It was fortunate that for many hours they continued to enjoy the sweetunconsciousness of sleep, --if such may be termed enjoyment. It was longafter midnight before either awoke: for there was nothing to awake them. The breeze had kept gentle, and constant in the same quarter; and theslight noise made by the water, as it went "swishing" along the edge ofthe raft, instead of rousing them acted rather as a lullaby to theirrest. The boy awoke first. He had been longer asleep; and his nervoussystem, refreshed and restored to its normal condition, had become morekeenly sensitive to outward impressions. Some big, cold rain-dropsfalling upon his face had recalled him to wakefulness. 

Was it spray tossed up by the spars ploughing through the water?

No. It was rain from the clouds. The canopy overhead was black as ink;but while the lad was scrutinising it, a gleam of lightning suddenlyillumined both sea and sky, and then all was dark as before. 

Little William would have restored his cheek to its sail-cloth pillowand gone to sleep again. He was not dismayed by the silent lightning, --for it was that sort that had flickered over the sky. No more did hemind the threatening rainclouds. His shirt had been soaked too often, by showers from the sky and spray from the sea, for him to have anydread of a ducking. 

It was not that, --neither the presence of the lightning nor the prospectof the rain, --that kept him awake; but something he had heard, --orfancied he had heard, --something that not only restrained him fromreturning to repose, but inspired him with a fear that robbed him of aninclination to go to sleep again. 

What was it he had heard or fancied? A noise, --a _voice_!

Was it the scream of the sea-mew, the shriek of the frigate-bird, or thehoarse note of the nelly?

None of these. The boy-sailor was acquainted with the cries of allthree, and of many other sea-birds besides. It was not the call of abird that had fallen so unexpectedly on his ear, but a note of fardifferent intonation. It more resembled a voice, --a human voice, --thevoice of a child! Not of a very young child, --an infant, --but more likethat of a girl of eight or ten years of age!

Nor was it a cry of distress, though uttered in a melancholy tone. Itseemed to the ear of the lad--freshly awakened from his sleep--likewords spoken in conversation. 

But it could not be what he had taken it for! Improbable, --impossible!He had been deluded by a fancy; or it might be the mutterings of someocean bird with whose note he was unacquainted. 

Should he awake his companion and tell him of it? A pity, if it shouldprove to be nothing, or only the chattering of a sea-gull. His braveprotector had need of rest. Ben would not be angry to be awaked; butthe sailor would be sure to laugh at him if he were to say he had hearda little girl talking at that time of night in the middle of theAtlantic Ocean. Perhaps Ben might say it was a mermaid, and mock him inthat sort of style?

No: he would not run the risk of being ridiculed, even by his best offriends. Better let the thing pass, and say nothing about it. 

Little William had arrived at this resolution, and had more than halfdetermined to treat the sound he had heard as an _aurical_ delusion. Hehad even replaced his cheek upon the sail-cloth pillow, when the verysame sound again fill upon his ear, --this time more distinctly heard, asif either the utterance had been clearer or the being that made it wasnearer!

If it was not the voice of a girl, --a very young girl, --then theboy-sailor had never listened to the prattling of his younger sister, orthe conversation of his little female playmates. If it was a youngmermaid, then most assuredly could mermaids talk: for the sound wasexactly like a string or series of words uttered in conversation!

Ben must be aroused from his slumber. It could not be an illusion. Either a talking mermaid, or a little girl, was within earshot of theraft. 

There was no help for it: Ben must be aroused. 

"Ben! Ben!"

"Ho--hah--ow--aw--what's the row?--seven bells, I bean't on thedog-watch. Hi, hi, oh! it's you, little Will'm. What is't, lad?"

"Ben, I hear something. "

"Hear somethin'! Well, what o' that, boy? Theer 's allers somethin' tobe heerd: even here, in the middle o' the Atlantic. Ah! boy, I wasdreamin' a nice dream when ye woke me. I thought I war back on the olefrigate. 'T wa'nt so nice, eyther, for I thought the bos'n war roustin'me up for my watch on deck. Anyhow, would a been better than this watchhere. Heerd something ye say? What d'ye mean, little Will'm?"

"I heard a voice, Ben. I think it was a voice. "

"Voice--o' a human, do ye mean?"

"It sounded like that of a little girl. "

"Voice o' a little girl! Shiver my timbers, lad, you're goin' demented!Put yer face close to mine. Let me see ye, boy! Are ye in yer senses, Will'm?"

"I am, Ben. I'm sure I heard what I've said. Twice I heard it. Thefirst time I wasn't sure; but just now I heard it again, and if--"

"If there hadn't been gulls, an' boobies, an' Mother Carey's chickens, as squeals and chitters just like little childer, I'd a been puzzled atwhat ye be a tellin' me; but as I knows there be all o' these creatorsin the middle o' the broad ocean, --and mermaids too, I dare say, --then, ye see, little Will'm, I must disbelieve that ye heard anything morethan the voice of--a man, by--!"

As the sailor terminated his speech with this terrible emphasis, hestarted into an upright attitude, and listened with all his ears foranother utterance of that harsh monotone that, borne upon the breeze andrising above the "sough" of the disturbed water, could easily bedistinguished as the _voice of a man_. 

"We're lost, Will'm!" cried he, without waiting for a repetition of thesound; "we're lost. It's the voice of Le Gros. The big raft is abearin' down upon us wi' them bloodthirsty cannibals we thought we'd gotclear o'. It's no use tryin' to escape. Make up your mind to it, lad;we've got to die! we've got to die!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

OTHER WAIFS. 

Had it been daylight, instead of a very dark night, Ben Brace and hisyouthful comrade would have been less alarmed by the voices that came upthe wind. Daylight would have discovered to them an object, or rathercollection of objects, which, instead of repelling, would have attractedthem nearer. 

It was not the great raft that was drifting to leeward, nor was it thevoice of Le Gros or any of his wicked companions, that had been heard;though, in the excitement of their fears, that was the first thought ofthe two castaways. 

Could their eyes have penetrated the deep obscurity that shrouded thesea, they would have beheld a number of objects, like themselves, adriftupon the water, and like them, at the mercy of the winds and waves. They would have seen pieces of timber, black and charred with fire;fragments of broken spars, with sails and cordage attached and trailingafter them; here and there a cask or barrel, sunk to the level of thesurface by the weight of its contents; pieces of packing-cases, tornasunder as if by some terrible explosion; cabin-chairs, coops, oars, handspikes, and other implements of the mariner's calling, --all bobbingabout on the bosom of the blue deep, and carried hither and thither bythe arbitrary oscillations of the breeze. 

These various objects were not all huddled up together, but scatteredunequally over a space of more than a square mile in extent. Had itbeen daylight, so that the sailor could have seen them, as they appearedmottling the bright surface of the sea, he would have experienced nodifficulty in determining their character. At a glance he would haverecognised the _debris_ of the burnt ship, from which he and hiscompanion had so narrowly escaped, --the slave-bark _Pandora_. 

He would have looked upon these objects with no very great surprise, butin all likelihood with a feeling of considerable satisfaction: asoffering the means for recruiting the strength of his own slightembarkation, which was barely sufficient to sustain the weight ofhimself and his companion, and certainly not strong enough to withstandthe assault of the most moderate of storms. 

In the midst of the "waifs" above enumerated, however, there was one notyet named, --one that differed greatly from all the rest, --and which, hadit been seen by them, would have caused extreme surprise both to BenBrace and little William. 

It was a raft, not a great deal larger than their own, but altogether ofdifferent construction. A number of planks most of them charred byfire, with a sofa, a bamboo chair, and some other articles of furniture, had been rudely bound together by ropes. These things, of themselves, would have made but a very clumsy craft, no better for navigating thegreat ocean than that upon which Ben and the boy were themselvesembarked. But the buoyancy of the former was secured by a contrivanceof which the sailor had not had the opportunity of availing himself. Around its edge were ranged hogsheads or water-casks, evidently empty. They were lashed to the plank; and being bunged up against the influx ofthe water, kept the whole structure afloat, so that it would havecarried a ton or two without sinking below the surface. 

There was a smaller cask floating alongside, attached to the timbers bya piece of rope that was tightly looped around the swell. But thiscould not have been designed to increase the buoyancy of the raft: sinceit was itself almost submerged, evidently by the weight of something itcontained. 

Such a congeries of objects might have drifted side by side by chance, or the caprice of the currents; but they could not have tied themselvestogether in such fashion. There was design in the arrangement; and inthe midst of the circle of empty hogsheads might have been seen thecontriver of this curious craft. He was, of course, a human being, anda man; but such an one as, under any circumstances, would arrest theattention of the beholder; much more in the singular situation in whichhe was then met with. He was a black man, in the fullest sense of theword; a true negro, with a skin shining like ebony; a skull of largesize, and slightly square in shape, covered with a thick crop of curlingwool, so close and short as to appear _felted_ into the skin. A braceof broad ears stood prominently out from the sides of his head; andextending almost from one to the other, was a wide-gaping mouth, formedby a pair of lips of huge thickness, protruding far forward, so as togive to the countenance those facial outlines characteristic of thechimpanzee or gorilla. 

Notwithstanding his somewhat abnormal features, the expression of thenegro's face was far from being hideous. It was not even disagreeable. A double row of white teeth, gleaming between the purplish lips, couldbe exhibited upon ordinary occasions in a pleasant smile; and theimpression derived from looking upon the countenance was, that the ownerof it was rather good-natured than otherwise. Just then, as he sat uponthe raft, gazing over the bulwark of hogsheads, its expression was oneof profound and sombre melancholy. No wonder!

The negro was not alone. Another individual shared with him theoccupancy of the raft;--one differing from him in appearance as Hyperionfrom the Satyr. A few feet from him, and directly before his face, wasa little girl, apparently about ten or twelve years of age. She wasseated, or rather cowering, among the timbers of the raft, upon a pieceof tarpauling that had been spread over them, her eyes bent upon herblack companion, though occasionally straying, with listless glance, over the sombre surface of the sea. Although so young, her countenanceappeared sad and despondent, as if under the belief that there waslittle hope of escape from the fearful situation in which she wasplaced, and as if her little spirit had long ago surrendered to despair. 

Though not a negro like her companion, the girl could scarce be called_white_. Her complexion was of that hue known as olive; but her hair, although curling, hung in long locks down over her shoulders; and thecrimson hue deeply tinting her cheeks told that in her blood there wasmore Caucasian than negro. 

Any one who had visited the western coast of Africa, on seeing thislittle girl, would easily have recognised in her features the type ofthat mixed race which has resulted from long intercourse between thePortuguese "colonists" and the sable indigenes of the soil. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

HOW SNOWBALL ESCAPED FROM THE SLAVER. 

On this curious embarkation, drifting about amid the remains of thewrecked ship, there were only the two human figures, --the negro and thelittle girl. It is superfluous to say that they were also a portion ofthe wreck itself, --other castaways who had, so far, succeeded in savingthemselves from the fearful doom that had overtaken, no doubt, every oneof the wretched beings composing the _cargo_ of the slaver. 

The negro upon the raft, though black as the blackest of his unfortunatecountrymen, was not among the number of those who had been carried as_freight_. On the contrary, he was one of the crew, --the lord of thecaboose, and known upon the slave-bark by the satirical _soubriquet_ of"Snowball. "

Although originally a slave from Africa, and by race a Coromantee, Snowball had long been in the enjoyment of his liberty; and, as cook orsteward, had seen service in scores of ships, and circumnavigated theglobe in almost every latitude where circumnavigation was possible. 

Though not naturally of a wicked disposition, he was by no meansparticular as to the company he kept, or the sort of ship he sailedin, --so long as the wages were good and the store-room well supplied;and as these conditions are usually found on board of a slaver, it wasnot Snowball's first voyage in a vessel of the kind. It is true that hehad never sailed in company with a more ribald crew than that of the_Pandora_; but it is only justice to say, that, long before the fatalinterruption of that voyage, even he had become tired of theircompanionship, and had been almost as eager to get away from the ship asBen Brace or little William. 

He, too, had been deterred from attempting to escape while upon theAfrican coast, by the knowledge that such an attempt would have beenworse than idle. In all likelihood it would have ended in his beingcaptured by his own countrymen, --or, at all events, by people of his owncolour, --and sold once more into that very slavery from which he hadformerly succeeded in emancipating himself. 

Though Snowball's morality was far from being immaculate, there was onevirtue which he was not wanting, --gratitude. But for the possession ofthis, he might have been alone upon the raft, and, perhaps, less caringin what direction the winds and waves might carry him. As it was, hissole thought and anxiety was about his little companion, whose safetywas as dear to him as his own. 

It will be asked why Snowball felt this unselfish solicitude. The childcould not be his own? Complexion, features, everything forbade thesupposition that there could be anything of kinship between her and hersable protector. 

Nor was there the slightest. On the contrary, the little girl was thedaughter of one who had once been Snowball's greatest enemy, --the manwho had sold him into slavery; but who had afterwards won the negro'sgratitude by restoring to him his freedom. This person had formerlyowned a trading fort on the coast of Africa, but of late years had beena resident of Rio in Brazil. His daughter, born in the former country, previous to his leaving it, was crossing the great ocean to rejoin himin his new home in the western world. Hence her presence on board the_Pandora_, where she had been a passenger under the protection ofSnowball. 

And well had the negro performed his duty as protector. When all theothers had forsaken the ship, and the flames were fast spreading overher decks, the faithful negro had gone below, and, rousing the girl fromher sleep, --for she had been slumbering unconscious of the danger, --hadborne her amidst flames and smoke, at the imminent risk of his own life, and passing through the cabin windows with his burden in his arms, hehad dropped down into the sea under the stern of the burning bark. 

Being an excellent swimmer, he had kept afloat for some minutes, sustaining both himself and his burden by his own strength; but after awhile he succeeded in clutching on to the davit-tackle by which the gighad been let down into the water, and having passed his foot through aloop in the end of it, he remained half suspended, half afloat on thewater. Soon after came the explosion, caused by the ignition of thegunpowder; and as the vessel was blown to pieces, the sea around becamestrewed with fragments of shattered timber, cabin furniture, sea-chests, and the like. Laying hold on those pieces that were nearest, hesucceeded in forming a rude sort of raft, upon which he and his_protege_ were enabled to pass the remainder of the night. 

When morning dawned, Snowball and the little Lalee--such was the name ofthe child--were the only beings who appeared to have survived thecatastrophe, --the wretched creatures who at the last moment had escapedfrom the "'tween-decks" were no longer in existence. 

Having been brought from the interior of the African continent, --andfrom a district where there are no great lakes or rivers, --but few ofthem could swim; and those few had become the prey of the sharks, thatin scores were swimming around the frail craft. As the sun rose overthe ocean, and lit up the scene of that terrible tragedy, Snowball sawnot a living creature save his own _protege_, the sharks, and theirsatellites. 

The negro knew, however, that the _Pandora's_ own people had escaped. He had witnessed the clandestine departure of the gig, containing theskipper and his confederates. 

This he had seen, while gazing through the windows of the cabin, previous to launching himself upon that last desperate leap. He hadalso been a witness to the departure of the great raft carrying thecrew. 

It may appear strange that he did not swim towards it, and share thefortunes of his former associates. Why he did not do so is easilyexplained. By an accident, arising from his own negligence, the shiphad been set on fire. He was aware of this; and he knew also that bothcaptain and crew were equally cognisant of the fact. The former, justafter the discovery, assisted by the brutal mate, had administered tohim (Snowball) such a chastisement as he would not soon forget; whilethe crew, on becoming acquainted with the circumstance, were upon thepoint of tossing him into the sea; and would no doubt have carried theirdesign into execution, but for the presence of the appalling dangerimpelling them to look to their own safety. The negro knew, therefore, that, were he to seek safety on the great raft, it would only be tothrow himself into merciless hands, certain to spurn him back withvengeful indignation, or fling him into the jaws of the hideous monstersalready swimming around the ship, and quartering the sea in everydirection. 

For this reason had Snowball chosen to trust to his own strength, --tochance, --to anything rather than the mercy of his old associates, withwhom, for a long period past, he had been far from a favourite. 

Perhaps it had turned out for the best. Had he succeeded in reachingthe great raft, and been permitted to share with its occupants theirchances of safety, it is more than probable that the little Lalee mighthave become the victim of that horrid attempt from which the littleWilliam had so narrowly escaped!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

SNOWBALL AMID THE DRIFT. 

The adventures of Snowball and his _protege_, from the blowing up of the_Pandora_ until six suns had risen and gone down over the ocean, if notso varied as those of Ben Brace and his _protege_, were nevertheless ofsufficient interest to deserve a brief narration. 

Supported by the few sticks which he had been able to draw together, hehad remained during the rest of the night in the midst of the floatingfragments. 

He had listened to the wild shouts of vengeful rage, proceeding from thethroats of the slaves as they clutched at the great raft, and werebeaten back by those who occupied it. He had seen the broad sailsuddenly hoisted, and the dark mass gradually gliding away over theocean. He had heard many an agonising yell as, one by one, the fewstrong swimmers who survived the rest either sank by exhaustion or weredragged down in the jaws of the numerous sharks; until, the last shriekhaving sounded in his ears, all became silent as the tomb, while thesombre surface of the sea once more lay motionless around him. Even theravening monsters, for a moment, seemed to have forsaken the spot, --asif each, having secured a sufficient prey, had gone down to devour itundisturbed in the dark unfathomed caverns of the deep. 

When morning dawned upon the scene, although many objects met the eye ofthe negro and his companion, there was no human being within sight; andSnowball knew that, with the exception of the six men who had rowed offin the gig, and the crew upon the great raft, there were no othersurvivors of the slaver. 

The crew having spread a sail to get out of reach of the drowningwretches who were clutching at their raft, the latter was soon carriedout of sight; while the six in the gig had rowed off as fast as theywere able, in order to get out of reach of their own companions! Forthese reasons, when day broke over the ocean, neither boat nor raft werevisible from the spot where the catastrophe had occurred. 

It may appear strange that none of the living cargo of the slaver hadsucceeded in saving themselves, by clinging to some fragment of thewreck; and Snowball thought so at the time. 

The truth was, that those who could swim had struck out after the raft, and had followed it so far that they were not able to swim back to theburning vessel; while the others, in the wild terror produced by theproximity of the flames, had leaped despairingly into the sea, and sunkupon the instant. 

The early sunbeams, as they fell slantingly over the surface of the sea, told the negro that he was alone, --alone with the little Lalee, --alonein the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, --afloat upon a few sticks, --withouta morsel of food to eat, without a drop of water to drink!

It was a terrible situation, --sufficient to produce despair even in thestoutest heart. 

But Snowball was not one of the despairing sort. He had been too oftenin peril of life--both by sea and land--to be unnerved even in thatdread hour; and instead of permitting his spirits to become prostrated, he bethought him of how he might make the best of the circumstances bywhich he was surrounded. 

An object that came under his eye, just as the day began to break, kindled within him a faint gleam of hope, and urged to making an effortfor the salvation of himself and his helpless companion. This objectwas a small keg, or beaker, which chanced to be floating near him, andwhich, from some mark upon it, Snowball recognised. He knew that it hadbeen standing in a corner of the caboose, previous to the blowing up ofthe bark; and, moreover, that it contained several gallons of freshwater, which he had himself surreptitiously abstracted from the commonstock, previous to the time that the slaver's crew had agreed to beingput upon rations. 

It was but the work of a minute to secure this keg, and attach it by astrong cord to the piece of timber on which the ex-cook was seatedastride. 

But for this unexpected supply of water Snowball might probably haveyielded to despair. Without water to drink he could not have reckonedon a long lease of life, --either for himself or his _protege_. Soopportunely had the keg come before his eyes as to seem a Providentialinterference; and the belief or fancy that it was so stimulated him to afurther search among the fragments of the shattered ship. 

There were many queer things around him, --like himself bobbing aboutupon the tiny waves. One, however, soon monopolised his attention; andthat was a barrel of somewhat flimsy structure, and about the size ofthose usually employed for carrying flour. Snowball recognised it alsoas an old acquaintance in the store-room, and knew that it was filledwith the best kind of biscuit, --a private stock belonging to thecaptain. 

Its contents could not fail to be saturated with salt-water, for thebarrel was not water-tight; but the ex-cook could dry them in the sun, and render them, if not palatable, at least eatable. 

The biscuit-barrel was soon fished up out of the water, and placed highand dry upon the little raft. 

Snowball was next struck with the necessity of improving the quality ofhis craft, by giving it increase both in size and strength. With thisintention--after having possessed himself of an oar, out of several thatwere adrift--he commenced paddling about among the floating fragments, here and there picking up such pieces as appeared best suited to hispurpose. 

In a short while he succeeded in collecting a sufficient number of sparsand other pieces of timber, --among which figured a portion of his ownold tenement, the caboose, --to form a raft as large as he might require;and to his great satisfaction he saw around him the very things thatwould render it _seaworthy_. Bobbing about on the waves, and at nogreat distance, were half a dozen empty water-casks. There had been toomany of them aboard the slaver: since their emptiness was the originalcause of the catastrophe that had ensued. But there were not too manyfor Snowball's present purpose; and, after paddling first to one andthen another, he secured each in turn, and lashed them to his raft, insuch fashion, that the great hogsheads, sitting higher in the water thanthe timbers of the raft, formed a sort of parapet around it. 

This task accomplished, he proceeded to collect from the wreck suchother articles as he fancied might be of service to him; and, thusoccupied, he spent several days on the spot where the _Pandora_ had goneto pieces. 

The slight breezes that arose from time to time, and again subsided, hadnot separated his raft from the other objects still left floating near. In whatever direction they went, so went he: since all were driftingtogether. 

The idea had never occurred to the negro to set up a sail and endeavourto get away from the companionship of the inanimate objects aroundhim, --souvenirs as they were of a fearful disaster. Or rather it hadoccurred to him, and was rejected as unworthy of being entertained. Snowball, without knowing much of the theory of navigation, hadsufficient practical acquaintance with the great Atlantic Ocean, --especially that part of it where lies the track of the dreaded "middlepassage, "--long remembered by the transported slave, --Snowball, I say, was sufficiently acquainted with his present whereabouts, to know that asail set upon his raft, and carrying him hither and thither, would notadd much to the chances of his being rescued from a watery grave. Hisonly hope lay in being picked up by some passing vessel; and, feelingconvinced of this, he made no effort to go one way or the other, butsuffered himself to be drifted about, along with the other waifs of thewreck, whithersoever it pleased the winds or the currents of the oceanto carry him. 

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

SNOWBALL AT SEA ON A HENCOOP. 

For six days had Snowball been leading this sort of life, along with thelittle Lalee, --subsisting partly on the sea-steeped biscuit found in thebarrel, and partly upon other provisions which had turned up among thedrift; while the precious water contained in the keg had hitherto keptthem from suffering the pangs of thirst. 

During these six days he had never wholly surrendered himself up todespair. It was not the first, by several times, for the old sea-cookto have suffered shipwreck; nor was it his first time to be cast away inmid-ocean. Once had he been blown overboard in a storm, and leftbehind, --the ship, from the violence of the wind, having been unable totack round and return to his rescue. Being an excellent swimmer, he hadkept afloat, buffeting with the huge billows for nearly an hour. Ofcourse, in the end, he must have gone to the bottom, as the place wherethe incident occurred was hundreds of miles from any land. But just ashe was on the point of giving in, a hencoop came drifting past, to whichhe at once attached himself, and this being fortunately of sufficientsize to sustain his weight, hindered him from sinking. 

Though he knew that the hencoop had been thrown out of the ship by someof his comrades, after he had gone overboard, the ship herself was nolonger in sight; and the unlucky swimmer, notwithstanding the help givenhim by the hencoop, must eventually have perished among the waves; butthe storm having subsided, and the wind suddenly changing into theopposite quarter, the vessel was wafted back on her old track, andpassing within hail of Snowball, his comrades succeeded in rescuing himfrom his perilous situation. 

With the retrospect of such an experience, --and Snowball could look backupon many such, --he was not the man to yield easily to despair. On thecontrary, he now acted as if he believed that there was still not onlysome hope, but a considerable chance of being delivered from the dilemmain which the late disaster of the _Pandora_ had placed him. 

Scarce an hour during the six days had he permitted to pass in idleness. As already stated, he had collected ample materials from the wreckfloating around him. Out of these he had formed a good-sized raft, having spent much time and labour in giving it strength and security. This accomplished, and all the provisions he could find safely storedupon it, he had devoted the rest of his time to fishing. 

There were many fish in the neighbourhood of the wreck. Fearful fishthey were too: for they were sharks: the same that had made such havocamong the unfortunate creatures who had constituted the cargo of theslaver. These voracious monsters, --though satiated for a time withtheir human prey, --had not forsaken the spot where the _Pandora_ hadgone to pieces; but on the square mile of surface strewed by thefloating fragments of the wreck they could still be seen in pairs, andsometimes in larger numbers, with their huge sail-like fins projectinghigh above the water, veering about as if once more hungry, andquartering the sea in search of fresh victims. 

Snowball had not succeeded in capturing any of the sharks, though he hadspared no pains in endeavouring to do so. There were other large fish, however, that had made their appearance in the proximity of his raft, attracted thither by the common prospect of food promised by the wreckof the slaver. There were albacores, and bonitos, and dolphins, andmany other kinds of ocean fish, rarely seen, or only upon suchmelancholy occasions. With a long-handled harpoon, which Snowball hadsucceeded in securing, he was enabled to strike several of thesecreatures; so that by the evening of the sixth day, his larder wasconsiderably increased, --comprising, in the way of fish, an albacore, abrace of bonitos, with three satellites of the sharks, --a pilot-fish andtwo sucking-fish. 

All these had been ripped open and disembowelled, after which theirflesh, cut into thin slices, and spread out on the tops of the emptywater-casks that surrounded the raft, was in process of being cured bydrying in the sun. 

Befriended by the fine weather, Snowball had succeeded, one way andanother, in accumulating no mean store of provisions; and, so far asfood went, he felt confident, both for himself and his companion, ofbeing able to hold out not only for days, but for weeks or even months. 

He felt equal confidence in regard to their stock of water. Havinggauged the keg in his own rude way, and satisfied himself as to thequantity of its contents, he had made a calculation of how long it mightlast, and found that by a careful economy it could be depended upon fora period of several weeks. 

Reposing upon these pleasant data, on the night of the sixth day he hadgone to rest with a feeling of confidence that soon enticed his spiritinto the profoundest slumbers. 

Not that Snowball had gone without sleep during the other five nightsspent upon his raft. He had slept a little on each of them. Only alittle, however; for, as most of them had been moonlight nights, he hadkept awake during the greater portion of each, on the lookout over thesurface of the ocean, lest some ship, sailing near, might glide pastsilently and unseen, and so deprive him of a chance of being picked up. 

The little Lalee had also borne part in these nocturnal vigils, --takingher turn when Snowball became too weary to keep awake; and so, inalternate watches, had the two been in the habit of tiring out the longhours of the night. To this practice the sixth night had proved anexception. There was no moon in the sky; there were no stars; not aglimmer of light, either in the firmament of the heavens or on the faceof the deep. The sky above and the sea below were both of one colour, --the hue of pitch. On such a night it was idle to keep watch. A shipmight have passed within a cable's length of the raft, and stillremained unseen; and, filled with this conviction, both Snowball and hiscompanion, after the night had fairly closed over them, stretched theirbodies along the pieces of sail-cloth that formed their respectivecouches, and surrendered their spirits to the sweet enchantment ofsleep. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

THE FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 

Snowball began to snore almost as soon as he had closed his eyelids, andas if the shutting of his eyes had either occasioned or strengthened thecurrent of breath through his nostrils. 

And such a sound as the snore of the Coromantee was rarely heard uponthe ocean, --except in the "spouting" of a whale or the "blowing" of aporpoise. 

It did not wake the little Lalee. She had become accustomed to thesnoring of Snowball, --which, instead of being a disturber, acted ratheras 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 prodigious than any that had preceded it, cameswelling through the nostrils of the sea-cook, --it was only then thatthe young girl was awakened. 

Becoming aware of what had awakened her, she would have gone to sleepagain; but just as she was about re-composing herself upon hersail-cloth couch, a sight came before her eyes that caused her not onlyto remain awake, but filled her with a feeling of indescribable awe. 

On the instant of opening her eyes, the sky, hitherto dark, had becomesuddenly illumined by lightning, --not in streaks or flashes, but as if asheet of fire had been spread for an instant over the whole canopy ofthe heavens. 

At the same time the surface of the sea had been equally lighted up withthe vivid gleam; and among the many objects drifting around the raft, --the remnants of the wreck, with which the eyes of the little Lalee hadnow become familiarised, --she saw, or fancied she saw, one altogethernew to her. 

It was a human face and figure, in the likeness of a beautiful boy, whoappeared to be kneeling on the water, or on some slight structure on alevel with the surface of the sea!

The lightning had revealed other objects beside him and over him. Apair of slender sticks, standing some feet apart, and in a perpendicularposition, with some white strips suspended between them, in the gleam ofthe lightning shone clear and conspicuous. 

It is not to be wondered at that the little Lalee should feel surpriseat an apparition, --so unexpected, in such a place, and under suchcircumstances. It is not to be wondered at that her first impulseshould be to rouse her companion out of his snoring slumbers. 

She did so upon the instant, and without waiting for another flash oflightning either to confirm her belief in what she had seen, or convinceher that it was only an apparition, --which her fancy, disturbed by thedreams in which she had been indulging, had conjured up on the instantof her awaking. 

"Wha's dat you say?" inquired Snowball, abruptly awakened in the middleof a superb snore; "see something! you say dat, ma pickaninny? How yousee anyting such night as dis be? Law, ma lilly Lally, you no see denose before you own face. De 'ky 'bove am dark as de complexyun ob disole nigga; you muss be mistake, lilly gal!--dat you muss!"

"No, indeed, Snowball!" replied Lalee, speaking in gumbo Portuguese, "Iam not mistaken. It wasn'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 sawsome one!"

"What was de some one like?" interrogated Snowball, in an accent thatproclaimed incredulity. "Was 'um 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, likethat boy. "

"What boy you 'peak 'bout?"

"He who was aboard the ship, --the English boy who was one of thesailors. "

"Ah! you mean de little Will'm, I 'pose. I reck'n dat 'ere lad hab goneto de bott'm ob de sea long afore dis, or else he get off on de bigraff. I know he no go 'long wi' de cappen, 'case I see de little chapclose by de caboose after de gig row 'way. If he hab go by de raff demruffins 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 _his_. "

"Who you mean?"

"The boy-sailor aboard the ship. O, listen! There it is again; andsurely I hear another?"

"Gorramity! little gal, you 'peak de troof. Sure 'nuff dere am avoice, --two ob dat same. One am like de boy we 'peak 'bout, --odder morelike a man o' full groaf. I wonder who dey can be. Hope 't an't deghoses of some o' de _Pandoras_ dat ha' been drowned or eat up by desharks. Lissen 'gain, Lally, an' try make dem out. "

Having imparted this injunction, the negro raised himself into ahalf-erect attitude; and facing to windward with his arms resting uponone of the empty casks, --which, as already stated, formed a sort ofcircular parapet around his raft, --he remained silent and listening. 

The little Lalee had also assumed a half-erect attitude; and, by theside of her sable companion, kept peering out into the darkness, --in thehope that another flash of lightning might again reveal to her eyes thefeatures of that beautiful boy, who, alone of all upon that fated ship, had made upon her mind an impression worthy of being remembered. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

TO THE OARS. 

"We've got to die!"

As the sailor gave utterance to these words of fearful import, hestarted from his recumbent position, and, half-erect upon the raft, remained listening, --at the same time endeavouring with his glance topierce the darkness that shrouded the surface of the deep. 

Little William, terrified by the speech of his protector, made norejoinder, but with like silence continued to look and listen. 

There was nothing visible save sea and sky; and these, in the dimobscurity, were not to be distinguished from each other. A raft orboat, --even a large ship, --could not have been seen at two cables'distance from that on which they were drifting along; and the onlysounds now heard were the sighing of the night breeze, and the "swish"of the water as it swept along the sides of their slight embarkation. 

For five minutes or more there was nothing to interrupt this duetto ofwinds 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 wasbut half awake when he fancied hearing it. Was it only a fancy, --anillusion? It was at the best very indistinct, --as of some one speakingin a muttered tone. It might be the "blowing" of a porpoise, or theutterance of some unknown monster of the sea: for the sailor'sexperience had taught him that there are many kinds of creaturesinhabiting the ocean that are only seen at rare intervals even by onewho is constantly traversing it, and many others one may never see atall. Could the sounds have proceeded from the throat of some of thesehuman-like denizens of the deep, known as _dugongs, lamantins, manatees_, and the like?

It was strangest of all that William had heard the voice of a girl: forthe lad still adhered to the belief that he had done so. That mighthave been the cry of a bird, or a mermaid; and Ben would have been readyenough to accept the latter explanation. But the voice of a young girl, coupled with that of a man, rendered the circumstance more mysteriousand altogether inexplicable. 

"Didn't you hear a man's voice, lad?" he asked at length, with a vieweither of dissipating his doubts or confirming them. 

"I did, " replied the boy. "Yes, Ben; I'm sure I did, not loud, butmuttered like. But I don't know whether if was Le Gros. O, if it was!"

"Thee have good reason to know his ugly croak, the parleyvooin'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'texpect mercy at their hands. By this time they'll be all as hungry asthe sharks and as ravenin' too. "

"Oh!" exclaimed William, in accents of renewed fear, "I hope it's notthem!"

"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'tsee us no more than we can them; anyhow, till it come mornin'. If wecould hear the sound again so as to make out the direction. I didn'tnotice that. "

"I did, " interrupted William. "Both the voices I heard were out thisway. "

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 bigraft they must a passed us, or else the wind must a veered round, forwe've been to leuart o' them ever since partin' wi' 'em. Could the winda gone round I wonder? Like enough. It be queer, --and it's blowingfrom the west in this part o' the Atlantic! 'Tan't possible to say whatpoint it be in, hows'ever, --not without a compass. There bean't eventhe glimmer o' a star in the sky; and if there wur we couldn't make mucho' it; since the north star bean't seen down in these latitudes. Theebe sure the sound come from leuart?"

"O, 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: forit's them that's driftin' us along. We'll take a spell at the oars, andafore daylight we may get out o' hearin' o' the voices, and out of sighto' them as has been utterin' o' them. "

Both rose simultaneously to their feet, and commenced taking down theslices of half-dried shark-flesh, and placing them upon thesail-cloth, --with the intention, as the sailor had counselled it, tounship the oars that had been doing duty as masts, and make use of themin their proper manner. 

While engaged in this operation both remained silent, --at intervalsstopping in their work to listen. 

They had got so far as to clear away the suspended flitches, and wereabout unfastening the cords where they were looped around the uprightoars, when another cord, attached to one of the latter, caught theirattention. It was the piece of rope which closed the mouth of theirtarpauling water-bag, and held the latter in such a position as to keepthe "cask" from leaking. 

Fortunately they were doing things in a deliberate manner. If they hadbeen acting otherwise, and had rashly "unstepped" the mast to which thatpiece of rope was attached, their stock of fresh water would have beenrapidly diminished, --perhaps altogether spilled into the salt sea, before they should have become aware of the disaster. As it was, theyperceived 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 proceed any furtherin the design of rowing the raft to windward. With a single oar theycould make but little way; and the other was already occupied in doing aduty from which it could not possibly be spared. 

It is true there were still left the fragments of the hand spike thathad been ground between the teeth of the surviving shark, and afterwardspicked up as they drifted past it. This might serve instead of the oarto support the mouth of the water-bag; and as soon as this idea occurredto 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 sidesof the raft, and commenced propelling it against the wind, --in adirection contrary to that in which the mysterious voices had beenheard. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

SHIP AHOY!

They had not made over a dozen strokes of their oars, --which theyhandled cautiously and in silence, all the while listening intently, --when their ears were again saluted by sounds similar to those firstheard by little William, and which he had conjectured to be the voice ofa young girl. As before, the utterance was very low, --murmured, as ifrepeating a series of words, --in fact, as if the speaker was engaged ina quiet conversation. 

"Shiver my timbers!" exclaimed the sailor, as soon as the voice againceased to be heard. "If that bean't the palaver o' a little girl, myname wur never Ben Brace on a ship's book. A smalley wee thing she seemto be; not bigger than a marlinspike. It sound like as if she wurtalkin' 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 you say? Who denies thereain't? Nobody but disbelevin land-lubbers as never seed nothin'curious, 'ceptin' two-headed calves and four-legged chickens. In coorsethere be maremaids. I've seed some myself; but I've sailed with ashipmate as has been to a part o' the Indyan Ocean, where there be wholeschools o' 'em, wi' long hair hangin' about their ears an' over theirshoulders, just like reg'lar schools o' young girls goin' out for a walkin the outskirts o' Portsmouth or Gravesend. Hush! theer be her voiceagain!"

As the sailor ceased speaking, a tiny treble, such as might proceed fromthe tongue of a child, --a girl of some eight or ten years old, --cametrembling over the waves, in tones that betokened a conversation. 

A moment or two elapsed; and then, as if in reply to the words spoken bythe child, was heard another voice, --evidently that of a man!

"If the one be a maremaid, " whispered Ben to his companion, "the othermust be a mareman. Shiver my timbers, if it ain't a curious confab!Moonrakers and skyscrapers! what can it mean?"

"I don't know, " mechanically answered the boy. 

"Anyhow, " continued the sailor, apparently relieved by the reflection, "_It ain't the big raft_. There's no voice like that little 'un amongits crew o' ruffins; and that man, whosomever he be, don't speak like LeGros. I only thought so at first, bein' half asleep. 

"If it be a school o' maremaids, " pursued he, "theer an't no danger, even wi' theer men along wi' 'em. Leastwise, I never heerd say therewur from maremaids more'n any other weemen; an' not so much, I dare ay. Sartin it bean'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 himself into an erectattitude, as if to get a better view. 

"I'll hail, Will'm, " he muttered; "I'll 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 appearedto have proceeded. There came no response; and the sailor, afterlistening 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; besides, the voice that repeated thewell-known phrase was quite different from that of him who had firstpronounced it. Though different both in tone and accent, it wasevidently 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 ofBen Brace and his youthful companion, it sounded sweeter than any musicto which they had ever listened. The words "Ship ahoy!" were soonsucceeded by others, proceeding from the same lips. 

"Gorramity!" spoke the strange voice, "who de debbil call dar? Datsome'dy in de boat? Dat you, Capten? Am it you, Massa Grow?"

"A negro, " muttered Ben to his companion. "It's Snowball, the cook. Itcan't be anybody but him. In the name o' Neptune how has the darkey gotthere? What's he aboard o'? He warn'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'sthe boat that is near us. "

"No, " replied William, "I'm sure I saw Snowball by the caboose after thegig had rowed away. As he wasn't with them on the big raft, I supposedhe'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 ina loud prolonged drawl. "Ship ahoy, some'dy call out dar? What ship amdat? Am it a ship at all? Or am it some o' de wreck Pandoray?"

"Castaways, " responded Ben. "Castaways of the bark _Pandora_, Whocalls? 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 bigraff?"

"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 cabing gal. Youknow de lilly Lalee?"

"Oh! she it be!" muttered Ben, now remembering the little cabinpassenger 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 since de bustin' ob de powder ball. "

"Keep your place then. We've got oars. We'll row down to you. "

"We--you say we? You got some'dy sides yaself on dat raff?"

"Little Will'm. "

"Lilly Willum, --ah? dat ere brave lilly lad. See 'im jess as I go downin de cabin fo' get de pickaninny. See 'im forrard with axe, --he knockoff de gratin' ob de fore-hatch, --he set all dem 'ere niggas free. Itwarn't no use, --not bit good o' dem. Dey all got eat up by de shark, ordey go down straight to de bottom. Gorramity! how dey s'riek an''cream, an' jump overboard into de water!"

Neither the sailor nor Little William paid any heed to the negro'shalf-soliloquised narrative, further than to make use of his voice toguide them through the darkness towards the spot whence it proceeded. On discovering that it was Snowball who was near, both had turned upontheir own craft, and were now rowing it in the opposite direction tothat in which, but the moment before, they had been so eagerlypropelling it. 

As they now pulled to leeward, they had the wind in their favour; and bythe time the negro arrived at the end of his disjointed narrative, theywere within half a cable's length of him, and, through the darkness, were beginning to distinguish the outlines of the odd embarkation thatcarried Snowball and his _protege_. 

Just then the lightning blazed across the canopy of heaven, discoveringthe two rafts, --each to the other. In ten seconds more they were _enrapport_, and their respective crews congratulating each other, with asmuch joyfulness as if the unexpected encounter had completely deliveredthem from death and its dangers!

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

THE RAFTS EN RAPPORT. 

Two travellers meeting in the midst of a lone wilderness, even thoughstrangers to each other, would not be likely to pass without speaking. If old acquaintances, then would they be certain to make the longestpause possible, and procrastinate their parting till the last momentallowed by the circumstances. If these circumstances would permit oftheir reaching their respective destinations by the same route, howsorry would each be to separate, and how happy to enter into a mutualalliance of co-operation and companionship!

Just like two such travellers, or two parties of travellers, meeting inthe midst of the desert, --a wilderness of land, --so met, in the midst ofthe ocean, --the wilderness of water, --the two rafts whose history wehave hitherto chronicled. Their crews were not strangers to each other, but old acquaintances. If not all friends in the past, thecircumstances that now surrounded them were of a kind to make themfriends for the future. Under the awe inspired by a common danger, thelion will lie down with the lamb, and the fierce jaguar consorts withthe timid capivara no longer trembling at the perilous proximity. 

But there was no particular antipathy between the crews of the two raftsthus singularly becoming united. It is true that formerly there hadbeen some hostility displayed by the negro towards Little William, andbut little friendship between the former and Ben Brace. These, however, were things of the past; and during the last days of their companionshipon board the _Pandora_ the sentiments of all three had undergone achange. An identity of interests had produced a certain three-corneredsympathy, --obliterating all past spite, and establishing, if notpositive friendship, at least a sort of triangular forgiveness. Ofcourse this affection was of the isosceles kind, --Ben and Little Williambeing the _sides_, and Snowball the _base_. It is scarce necessary tosay, that, meeting again under the circumstances described, all pastspite, had there been any, would have been forgiven and forgotten. 

Fortunately this had been already done. Between Ben and Snowball, andSnowball and Little William, the hatchet had been long ago buried; andthey now met, not as enemies, but as old acquaintances, --almost asfriends: nay, we might say, _altogether_ as friends. If not so before, the common danger had made them so now, and amicably did they greet oneanother. 

After such an encounter, it is superfluous to say that no thought ofagain separating entered into the minds of any of the party. The crewsof both rafts knew that their destinations were identical. 

Each was an _ocean waif_, seeking to escape from the wilderness ofwaters, --longing for deliverance from a common danger. In company theymight have a better chance of obtaining it. Why should they separate tosearch for it?

The question did not occur to either, --in thought or in word. From themoment of their meeting, instinct told them that their destinies werethe same, --that their action in future should be united. 

After the two rafts had collided together, and those involuntary butjoyful salutations were exchanged between their crews, the respectiveskippers became occupied with the more serious business of uniting thefrail embarkations into one, and rendering them for the futureinseparable. 

"Snowball!" inquired the sailor, "have you got any spare rope?"

"Plenty o' dat 'ere, " responded the ex-cook of the _Pandora_. 

"Yar am a coil o' strong sinnet. Dat do?"

"That's the stuff, " responded Ben. "Heave it this way, ye son of asea-cook! Heave!"

"Now, " continued he, laying hold of the coil of sennit, and tossing backone end over an empty water-cask. "Make fast there, Snowey! I dare saywe can lay alongside safe enough till daylight! After that we'll splicetogether in a better sort o' way. "

The ex-cook, obedient to the injunctions of the seaman, seized hold ofthe end of rope thrown to him, and made it fast to one of the sparswhich comprised his singular craft; while at the same time Ben busiedhimself in tying the other end to the piece of handspike erected uponhis own. 

Soon each completed his task; and after some time spent in a mutualdetail of the adventures that had befallen them since the hour ofseparation on the deck of the ill-fated Pandora, it was agreed that allshould go to rest for the remainder of the night, and with the earliestlight of day take measures to perpetuate the union of the two wanderingwaifs thus unexpectedly brought into companionship. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

RECONSTRUCTING THE RAFT. 

The crews of both rafts were astir by early dawn, the sailor arousingone and all from their slumbers. The rising sun, as it shone over theocean, fell upon four faces, all wearing a very different expressionfrom that which they had exhibited at his setting on the day before. Ifnot positively cheerful, there was at least hopefulness in their looks:for their renewed companionship had mutually inspired one and all withrenewed hopes of deliverance. Indeed, it was evident even to theyoungest of the party, that this unexpected union of strength wouldmaterially increase the chances of escape from the common danger; sincethe two strong men working together could do many things that would havebeen impossible to either of them alone, --to say nothing of theencouragement and confidence always springing from concerted action. 

The very fact of their having come together in the way they had doneseemed something more than accidental. It looked less like mereaccident than that they had been favoured by the hand of Providence; andeven the rude seaman, and the still ruder sea-cook, were only too gladto give way to the fancy that Providence was interfering on theirbehalf. 

Certainly, the succession of fortunate events with which both had beenfavoured, --and which had not only hitherto sustained them, but promisedto preserve their lives for a still longer period, --certainly, thesecircumstances were sufficient to beget the belief that they werespecially under the protection of some power less capricious than merechance. 

The fact of their having encountered each other--even when one of themhad been in the act of taking measures to avoid the encounter--was ofitself something to strengthen this conviction, and increase theirhopefulness for the future. 

This very effect it produced; and it was for that reason that Ben Bracewas so early astir, and so early in arousing the others. 

The sailor had had too much experience in the capriciousness of the windto believe that such calm weather as they had been enjoying for dayswould last much longer; and he had got up betimes with a view of unitingthe two rafts, and strengthening the structure that might spring out oftheir union, so that it might resist whatever storm should threaten. 

To attempt constructing a craft of such capability did not seem sohopeless to the skilful seaman. Before it had appeared so; but now, with the materials composing the two rafts, and others which the morningsun disclosed drifting about upon the surface of the sea, the thinglooked less of an impossibility. In fact, it did not appear at allimpossible; and for this reason Ben and the black at once came to thedetermination to attempt it. 

After a short time spent in deliberation, it was resolved to break upthe lesser raft, --that which had hitherto carried the sailor and littleWilliam. The planks composing it could be transferred to the larger andbetter structure which Snowball had got together; and this wasfurthermore to be reconstructed and considerably enlarged. 

It was not designed to make any great alteration in the shape or fashionwhich Snowball had chosen for his craft, which displayed great ingenuityon the part of its designer. As it was deemed proper enough, his designwas to be retained, --only the construction was to be on a larger scale. 

Before setting to work, it was essential that something in the shape ofa breakfast should be swallowed. This was drawn from the stores whichSnowball had been engaged for days in accumulating, and consisted simplyof biscuit and dried "bonito. "

In the absence of any fire, the ex-cook had no opportunity to exercisehis peculiar vocation, else the meal might have been more palatable. The biscuits from having had a salt bath were a little briny to thetaste; but that signified little to such sharp appetites as they werecalled upon to satisfy; and it was not such a bad breakfast, when washeddown, as it was, with a little _wine_ and water. 

You may be asking whence came the wine; and this was the very questionwhich the sailor addressed to Snowball, on discovering such a commodityupon his craft. 

The answer was easy enough. A small cask of "Canary" had been one ofthe items among the cabin stores. At the explosion it had been pitchedinto the sea; and not being quite full had freely floated on thesurface. Snowball had taken possession of it by attaching it to histimbers. 

Breakfast over, the work of reconstruction commenced. As a preliminary, the flitches of shark-meat were removed from the little raft, now doomedto destruction; while that ingenious contrivance of the sailor, --thecanvas water-cask, --now no longer required, was emptied of its contents;which, with the greatest care, were decanted into the safe depository ofone of the empty hogsheads that had been hitherto acting as supports tothe embarkation of Snowball. 

The oars, sail-cloth, piece of handspike, axe, and tarpauling were alsotransferred to the latter; and then the planks, and fragments of yardsand spars, were loosed from their lashings, and one by one distributedinto their proper places in the new structure. 

All day long did the work continue, --only an interval of an hour beingappropriated to the midday meal. Excursions, too, were made from pointto point, --the oars serving to propel the half-constructed craft: theobject of these excursions being to pick up such pieces of timber, ropes, or other articles as Snowball had not already secured. The aidof the others now rendered many items available which Snowball hadformerly rejected as useless, --because unmanageable by himself whileacting alone. 

The sun set upon their task still unfinished; but they retired hopefullyto rest: for the sky promised a continuance of the calm weather, andthey knew that if the promise was kept, a few hours in the morning ofthe following day would suffice to complete the construction of araft, --one that would not only give them ample accommodation for thestowage both of themselves and their stores, but would in allprobability ride out any gale likely to be encountered in that truly_pacific_ part of the Atlantic Ocean. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

THE CATAMARAN. 

Next morning, as soon as there was light enough for them to see whatthey were about, the work was resumed; and the timbers having been puttogether in a fashion to satisfy all hands, were lashed to one anotheras tightly as the united strength of the sailor, Snowball, and LittleWilliam could draw the ropes around them. 

The structure when completed was of an oblong shape, --somewhatresembling a punt or flat-bottomed ferry-boat, --nearly twenty feet inlength by about half as much in breadth of beam. The empty hogsheadswere placed around the edge in a regular manner. One lay crosswise atthe head, while another was similarly situated as regarded the stern. The other four--there were six in all--were lashed lengthwise along thesides, --two of them opposite each other on the larboard and starboardbows, while the other two respectively represented the "quarters. " Bythis arrangement a certain symmetry was obtained; and when the structurewas complete, it really looked like a craft intended for navigation, andby Ben Brace, --its chief architect, --it was facetiously christened _TheCatamaran_. 

By noon of the second day the _Catamaran_ was completed, --so far as the_hull_ was concerned. Had Snowball been by himself he would have leftit in that state: for the black did not yet believe that there was theslightest probability of reaching land by means of such an embarkation. 

But the sailor, --more skilled in such matters, --was of a different wayof thinking. He believed it not only possible, but probable enough, that this feat might be accomplished. He knew that they were in thevery centre of the southern trade-wind; and that the raft, even if leftto itself, would in time drift onward to some point on the coast ofSouth America. With a sail its speed would be accelerated; andalthough, thus furnished, such a clumsy structure could not sail veryswiftly, there was still a chance of its carrying them safely, --ifslowly, --to land. Ben knew it was simply a question of time, --dependentupon how long their provisions might last them, --but more especiallytheir supply of water. 

Having formed in his own mind a sort of rough calculation as to thechances, and finding them rather in favour of the scheme, he determinedon making trial of it, by erecting a mast upon the raft, and to thisbending a sail. At the worst, their chances of being picked up would bequite as good while sailing with the wind, as if they allowed themselvesto lie adrift upon the ocean. 

Fortunately the materials for both mast and sail were on hand, and inabundance. They had found the "spanker" of the _Pandora_ floatingabout, with its boom and all the cordage attached. By using the boom asa mast, and another smaller spar as a boom, they could rig up such asail as would carry the _Catamaran_ through the water with considerablevelocity. 

As soon as he had fully considered it in his own mind, the sailor, aidedby Snowball and Little William, proceeded to rig the _Catamaran_, and bythe close of the third day from the commencement of their labours a tallmast stood up out of the centre of that curious craft, midships betweenstem and stern, with boom and guy, and a broad sail hanging looselyalong its yard, --ready to be spread to the first breath of wind thatmight blow westward over the ocean. 

The breeze which had brought Ben and little William back among thewreck-drift of the slave-bark, leading to a renewal of intercourse withtheir old shipmate, Snowball, had been blowing in the contrary directionto 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 amere puff, --a cat's-paw, --in the midst of the calm that had continuedfor many days after the destruction of the slaver. It had lulled againon the same night in which the rafts had become united; and eversince, --during the three days they had been at work in the constructionof the _Catamaran_, --the calm had continued without intermission. 

On the fourth day things remained the same, --not a breath stirring fromany quarter to ruffle the glassy surface of the sea; which, like amirror, reflected the odd image of the _Catamaran_, with her sixhogsheads set like bulwarks around her sides, and her stout masttapering tall and solitary out of her midst. 

Neither her captain, --Ben Brace of course, --nor those of her crew whowere capable of reflecting on the future, and providing for its probablecontingencies, regretted this inaction, --forced upon them by thecontinuance of the calm. Indeed, although becalmed, the "Catamarans"were not inactive. There was work worthy of their activity, and whichoccupied them during the whole of the day. By the aid of oars, --severalof which were fortunately in their possession, --they kept the new craftin constant motion; quartering the square mile of sea-surface, uponwhich floated the fragments of the ill-fated _Pandora_. 

Many a waif did they pick up, and stow away on their new craft againstthe contingency of some future need. 

Among other "floating fragments" Ben chanced upon his own sea-chest;which secured him a change of linen, --to say nothing of a full suit of"Sunday go-ashores" and variety of knick-knacks likely to prove ofservice on the problematical voyage he proposed making. 

The chest itself was retained to serve as a useful "locker. "

The fourth day being spent in such fashion, the Catamarans retired torest, --little William, at the request of the sailor, repeating theLord's Prayer, and ending it, by the dictation of the latter, with ashort petition for a wind that would waft them to the westward!

It seemed as if that simple petition had been heard and granted. As thesun once more rose over the ocean, its glossy surface became broken intotiny corrugations by a breeze blowing as if from the sun himself. Thesail was run up the slippery mast; it was tightly sheeted home; and the_Catamaran_, rushing rapidly through the water, soon cleared herselffrom that fatal spot where the slaver had perished. 

"Westward ho!" cried Ben Brace, as he saw the sail swell out, and thecraft, the product of his own skill, walking proudly away through thewater like a "thing of life. "

"Westward ho!" simultaneously echoed Snowball and Little William; whilethe eyes of Lilly Lalee sparkled with joy, as she beheld theenthusiastic bearing of her companions. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

LITTLE WILLIAM AND LILLY LALEE. 

The wind was favourable in more senses than one. Besides blowing in thedesired direction, it kept steady and continuous, --never rising above agentle breeze, nor again returning to that calm from which they had justescaped, and the recurrence of which, to the captain of the _Catamaran_, would have been almost as unwelcome as a gale. 

It was just the sort of wind for the trial of a new craft--barelyruffling the surface of the sea, and yet filling the sail till its sheetwas as taut as a bow-string. As it blew direct from the east, that partof the _Catamaran_ which Ben had christened her _head_ was pointed duewestward; and to hinder the craft from veering round, or luffing backinto the eye of the wind, her builders had constructed a steeringapparatus at the stern. It was simply a very large oar, --one that hadappertained to the longboat of the _Pandora_, --placed fore and aftacross the swell of the stern water-cask. It was held in that positionby ropes attaching it to the cask, at the same time that they permittedit to play through the water, and perform the office of a rudder. Bymeans of this simple contrivance, --which had been rigged before startingon her cruise, --the _Catamaran_ could be steered to any point of thecompass, and kept either before the wind, or luffed up as close to it asshe was capable of sailing. 

Of course it required one or other of them to be always at the "wheel, "as Ben facetiously styled the steering apparatus, and the first spell ofthis duty the captain had taken upon himself, considering it tooimportant, --so long as it was only on trial, --to be intrusted either toSnowball or little William. After they should get fairly under way, andthere could be no longer any doubt as to the sailing qualities of the_Catamaran_, both the above-mentioned individuals would be expected totake their turn "at the wheel. "

For more than an hour the _Catamaran_ continued her course, withoutanything occurring to interrupt the "even tenor of her way. " Hercaptain, seated in the stern, and still in charge of the steering-oar, was the only one occupied in the conduct of the craft. Snowball wasbusy among his stores, --most of which lay in a mass amidships, --arranging them into some sort of order, and placing each article in themost suitable position to withstand any sudden assault of the winds andwaves. 

Little William and Lilly Lalee were far forward against the cask whichrepresented the head of the craft, and which, being quite empty, stoodhigh above the surface of the water. 

Neither was engaged in any particular employment, --except in talkingkindly to each other, and at intervals exchanging expressions of joy atthe fortune that had so singularly reunited them under two suchcourageous protectors. 

It is true that, on board the slaver, --during that brief voyage, broughtto such an abrupt and disastrous termination, --the two had seen butlittle of one another, and knew less. The pretty little Portuguese hadbeen kept within the cabin, never going beyond the confines of the"quarter"; while the English lad, in continual fear of receiving roughtreatment from either the captain or mates, rarely ventured within thatsacred precinct unless in obedience to some command from his dreadedsuperiors. 

Then stayed he only long enough to execute the order as speedily aspossible, --knowing that to linger by the cabin would be to exposehimself to rude insult, --perhaps to be pitched into the scuppers orkicked back to the forecastle. 

Under such disadvantageous circumstances, it is not to be wondered atthat the sailor-boy found but few opportunities of holding communicationwith the half-caste girl, who, by the singular chances already stated, had been his fellow-voyager on board the ill-fated bark. 

Though he had held but slight converse with his youthful _compagnon duvoyage_, and knew but little either of her moral or intellectualcharacter, he was nevertheless most intimately acquainted with herpersonal appearance. There was not a feature in her pretty, sweet face, not a ringlet in her jetty curling hair, with which his eyes were notperfectly familiar. 

Ofttimes had he stood, --half-screened behind the sails, --gazing upon heras she loitered by the cabin hatch, surrounded 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 his heart to throbwith throes in which pain and pleasure were equally commingled, but thecause 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 mightbe scattered to the winds, or whelmed under the black billows of thesea, --the sailor-boy no longer felt pain while gazing in her face, butonly that sweet incomprehensible pleasure. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

TOO LATE!

Nearly two hours had transpired since the starting of the _Catamaran_, --during which time but little change took place in the relative positionsof those on board. Then, however, Snowball having finished the stowageof his stores, proposed taking his turn at steering. The offer waswillingly accepted by the sailor, who, relinquishing his hold upon theoar, 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 seeingwhether he might not discover some article inside that would beserviceable under the circumstances. 

William and Lilly Lalee still remained by the head, --the boy habituallykeeping a lookout over the ocean, but at frequent intervals turning hisglances towards her who sat by his side, and endeavouring to interesther with his conversation. 

The girl could not speak English, --only a few phrases which she hadpicked up from English or American seamen, who had visited her father'sfort upon the African coast. These, though by her repeated in allinnocence, were neither of the most refined character, nor yetsufficiently comprehensive to enable her to hold any lengtheneddialogue. It was in her own tongue that the conversation between herand William was carried on: for the lad had picked up a somewhatextensive 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 Portuguesepatois, current on the coasts and large rivers of tropical SouthAmerica. 

In this language, little William, by the aid of signs and gestures, wasable to keep up an occasional conversation with Lilly Lalee. 

During the two hours which the sailor had remained at thesteering-oar, --and for some time after, --no incident occurred tointerrupt the tranquillity of the _Catamaran's_ crew. 

A very odd sort of fish, swimming about a cable's length ahead of thecraft, had attracted the attention of William and the girl, --excitingtheir curiosity so much as to cause them to rise to their feet and standwatching it. 

The interest which this creature had inspired was not, however, of apleasant kind. On the contrary, both looked upon it with feelings ofrepugnance, almost amounting to awe; for it was in reality one of theugliest monsters to be met with in the great deep. 

In size it it as about equal to the body of a man; but much moreelongated, and lessening gradually towards the tail. It seemed topossess a double quantity of fins, --lunated along their outer margins, and set thickly over its body, so as to give it a bristling aspect. Unlike other fishes, its neck was more slender than its head andshoulders, --imparting to it a sort of human shape. But it was in itshead that the hideousness of the creature was more especiallyconspicuous; the skull being prolonged on each side outwards to thedistance of several inches, and set upon its neck after the fashion of amallet upon its shaft! At the end of these lateral protuberancesappeared the eyes, with gleaming golden irides, glancing horridly to theright and left. 

The mouth was not less abnormal in shape and position. Instead of beingin the hideous head already described, it was in the breast, --where atintervals it could be seen yawning wide open, and displaying a quadruplerow of sharp serrated teeth, that threatened instant destruction to anysubstance, however hard, that might chance to come between them. 

Little William knew not what sort of fish it was; for though commonenough in some parts of the ocean, he had not had the good or illfortune 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 inthe direction pointed out by the lad, at once recognised the animalwhich appeared to have attached itself as an escort to the _Catamaran_. 

"Hammer-head!" said Ben; "a shark he be; an' the ugliest o' his uglytribe. "

Saying this, the sailor once more ducked his head under the lid of thechest, and continued his exploration, --altogether heedless of the"hammer-head, " from whose proximity they had nothing to fear. 

So believed Ben Brace at the moment. 

It proved a feeling of false security. In less than ten minutes fromthat time the sailor was within six feet of the "hammer-head's" openmouth, --in imminent danger of being craunched between those quadrupletiers of terrible teeth, and taken into the monster's capacious maw. 

By the phrase "hammer-head, " so laconically pronounced by the captain ofthe _Catamaran_, little William recognised in the fish a creature which, although never seen by him before, he had read of in books, both oftravel and natural history. It was the "hammer-head" shark, or_balance-fish_, so-called from the peculiar formation of its head, --the_zygaena_ of the naturalists, and one of the most voracious of thatdevouring tribe to which genetically it belongs. 

The individual in question was, as is already stated, about a cable'slength from the raft, right ahead; and through the translucent water itsform could be distinctly traced in all its hideous outlines. Swimmingin the same direction, and at a like rate of speed, it preserved aregular distance from the raft; and appeared like some guide or _avantcourier_ conducting the _Catamaran_ across the Atlantic!

William and Lalee watched the fish for a considerable time; but as nochange took place either in its movements or the position it held inrelation to the raft, their curiosity at length became satisfied, andtheir eyes were turned in a different direction. 

But the gaze of the boy-sailor soon became fixed; and upon an objectwhich caused him to give utterance to two distinct exclamations, --distinct in point of time, as different in signification. The first wasan ejaculation, or rather a series of phrases expressing a jocularsurprise, --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, that steering-oar has escaped from his hand!"

Almost instantly succeeded the shout that betokened alarm, followed by aseries of hurried phrases, indicating the danger itself. 

"The boom, --the boom! 'Tis coming round! Look out, Lalee! look out!"

As he gave utterance to these words of warnings the boy sprang towardshis companion, with arms outstretched, to protect her. 

The action came too late. The steering-oar, held in the hands of thesleeper, hung suspended high above the water. The _Catamaran_, leftwithout control, luffed suddenly round beam-end to the wind; the boomobeyed the impulse of the breeze; and Lilly Lalee, uplifted upon itsend, was brushed off from the craft, and jerked far out upon the bluebosom of the ocean!

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. 

"OVERBOARD!"

The cry came from little William, as the Portuguese girl, lifted on theend 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 himselfin an attitude to plunge into the water, --with the design of swimming tothe 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 theshoulders of Ben Brace, and right into the sea-chest, in front of whichthe sailor was still kneeling. 

Ben had heard that significant cry of alarm, and almost simultaneouslythe "plash" made by the little Portuguese as her body dropped down uponthe water. He had slewed himself round, and was making a hurried effortto get to his feet, when the boy, flung with violence upon his stoopingback, once more brought him to his knees. 

As William was chucked right over him into the chest the sailor soonrecovered from the shock, and rising erect, cried out in a half-confusedmanner, --"Overboard! Who? Where? _Not_ you, Will'm! What is't, boy?"

"O Ben! Ben!" answered William, as he lay kicking among the contents ofthe kit, "Lilly Lalee, she's knocked overboard by the boom! Save her!save her!"

The sailor needed neither the information nor the appeal thus addressedto him. His interrogations had been altogether mechanical, for theplunge he had heard, and the absence of the girl from the raft, --ascertained by a single glance, --told him 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 hadgone down; but, just as he got to his feet again, she had turned to thesurface; and, uttering half-stifled screams, commenced buffeting thewater with her tiny hands, in an instinctive endeavour to keep herselfafloat. 

In a crisis of this character, the brave English sailor was obstructedby no ambiguity as to how he should act. A single bound carried himacross the _Catamaran_, --another landed him upon the top of one of thecasks, and a third launched him six feet outward into the sea. Had hebeen apprised of the accident only a score of seconds sooner, less thanthat number of strokes would have sufficed him to reach the spot wherethe child had first fallen into the water. Unfortunately in thecollision with little William, that had brought him back to his knees, some time had been expended. During this interval--short as it was--thecraft, though under an uncontrolled sail, was still making considerableway; and when the rescuer at length succeeded in leaping from the cask, the struggling form had fallen into the wake of the _Catamaran_ to thedistance of nearly a cable's length. 

If the girl could only keep afloat for a few minutes, there need be nogreat danger. The sailor knew that he could swim, sustaining a heavierweight than was the little Lalee. But it was evident the child couldnot swim a stroke, and was every moment in danger of sinking for thesecond time. 

Her rescuer perceived this danger as he started to her aid; andtherefore pressed rapidly towards her, cleaving the water with all thestrength that lay in his muscular arm and limbs. 

Meanwhile little William had also regained his feet; and, havingextricated himself from the chest in which he had been temporarilyencoffined, ran towards the after part of the raft. Quickly mountingupon the water-cask at the stern, he stood astride the steering-oar, --ananxious and trembling spectator, --his eyes alternately fixed on thestrong swimmer and the struggling child. 

Snowball was still dormant, buried in a slumber profound andunconscious, --such as only a "darkey" can enjoy. The cry "Overboard!"uttered by little William had made no impression upon the tympanum ofhis wide-spread ears, --nor the exclamations that succeeded in theharsher voice of the sailor. Equally unheard by him had been the screamcoming across the water, though along with it he might have heard theutterance of his own name!

As none of these sounds had been sufficient to arouse him from historpor, he was likely to remain for some time longer unconscious of whatwas occurring. The sailor swam in silence, --the cries of the child, nowmore distant, were growing feebler and feebler; while little William--Snowball's only companion upon the raft--was too much absorbed in thescene and its issue to allow even a breath to escape him. 

In this moment of agony, --intense to all the others of the _Catamaran's_crew, --Snowball was sleeping as soundly and sweetly as if he had beenstretched along the bench of his caboose, and rocked to rest by theundulations of a good ship going at easy sail. 

Up to this time, William had not thought of awakening him; for, to saythe truth, the boy had not yet quite recovered his presence of mind. The shock of consternation caused by the accident was still vibratingthrough his brain; and his actions, in running aft, and springing up onthe cask, were half mechanical. There, enchained by the spectacle, andwaiting with intense anxiety for its _denouement_, he had not a thoughtto give either to Snowball or his slumberings. 

The silence continued only for a short period of time, though it mayhave seemed long enough both to actors and spectator in that thrillingdrama. It was terminated by a cry of joyous import from the lips oflittle William, --in short, a loud _hurrah_, evoked by his seeing theswimmer come _en rapport_ with the child, raise her sinking form abovethe surface, and holding it in one hand, strike out with the other inthe direction of the rail. 

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. 

SAVED!

"Brave Ben!--brave fellow! he has saved her! Hurrah!"

Whether it was the violent gestures that accompanied this ebullition offeeling that caused the water-cask to lurch from under his feet, --orwhether it arose from his nervous system suddenly becoming relaxed aftersuch a spell of intense anxiety, --certain it is that the sailor-lad, ashe repeated the final "Hurrah!" lost his balance upon the task, and, staggering over, he fell with all his weight upon the prostrate body ofthe slumbering sea-cook. 

The latter, in his sleep more sensible to touch than hearing, was atlength aroused. 

"Gorramity!" cried he, suddenly starting to his knees, and endeavouringto disembarrass himself of the weight of little William, stillscrambling upon his back. "Gorramity! What all dis _fracas_ '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 aship 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 succession as togive the lad no opportunity of replying to them. But, indeed, a replywas not needed, as may be deduced from the final ejaculation of thequestioner. 

Snowball, having swept the surface of the _Catamaran_ with a quick, searching glance, and missing from it not only its captain, but--whatwas of greater moment--his own _protege_, became equally the victim ofsurprise and consternation. 

His eye was at once turned towards the water; and, like all menaccustomed to the sea, was intuitively directed sternward. The missingindividuals could not be elsewhere than in the wake of the craft goingunder sail. 

He was soon satisfied of the correctness of his conjecture. On theinstant of his turning he beheld Ben Brace, --or rather, only the head ofthat individual, --just visible above the rippling surface of the sea. Close by was another head, of smaller size, with dark ringlets floatingon both sides of it, and a tiny arm stretched out and apparentlyclinging to the shoulder of the seaman. 

Snowball needed no one--not even little William--to interpret what hesaw. At a glance he comprehended what had occurred during his sleep, --all except the cause. Little did he suspect that the disaster had itsorigin in his own negligence. But it did not need that thought to begetwithin him a feeling of anxiety, --or, rather, of intense alarm. 

This feeling did not arise on the instant. Seeing the girl sustained bysuch a strong swimmer as he knew his old shipmate to be, he had butlittle fear for the result, --so little that he checked his firstimpulse, which was to leap overboard and swim to the assistance of both. 

A moment's reflection, however, satisfied him that there was stilldanger both for Lalee and her brave rescuer, --a danger which littleWilliam while giving utterance to that joyful "Hurrah!" had not takeninto account. The lad had seen the girl picked up by the strong seaman;and, having an unlimited faith in the prowess of his own protector, hehad no other thought than that the latter would soon swim 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 ofspeed that the swiftest swimmer, unembarrassed with the slightestweight, might in vain attempt to overtake her!

This sinister circumstance, in the excitement of the hour overlooked bythe youthful sailor, was even, for a moment, unthought of by the moreexperienced mariner, --for Snowball, in addition to being a sea-cook, wasalso a competent seaman. Not for long, however, did the latter continueunconscious of the danger. Almost on the instant did he perceive it;and quickly squatting himself in front of the cask, he took hold of thesteering-oar, --which he had so culpably neglected, --and, although stillignorant of the fact that his own negligence had caused the disaster, hebent all his energies towards remedying it. 

Under the strong arm of the Coromantee, the _Catamaran_ was fast cominground towards the wind, --and so shortening the distance between theswimmer and the craft, --when an object came under the eye of hersteersman that caused him to drop the oar as if either his arm hadbecome suddenly paralysed, or the piece of rounded ash grasped betweenhis hands had become transformed into a bar of red-hot iron!

The former it could not be; since paralysed arms could not act, as didthose of Snowball on that instant. On dropping the oar, his right handwas suddenly carried towards his left thigh, where a long knife hungsuspended in its sheath. Upon the hilt of this his fingers rested for amoment, evidently not with the intention of drawing it, but apparentlyto assure himself that the knife was in its place. 

In an instant the hand was withdrawn; but during the action the negrohad hastily risen to his feet; and, having already abandoned the oar, herushed towards the edge of the raft and leaped overboard into the water!

CHAPTER THIRTY. 

THE ZYGAENA. 

The conduct of the Coromantee in thus relinquishing the rudder andspringing overboard into the sea was inexplicable, --at least, to littleWilliam it seemed so for the time. What could be Snowball's object intaking to the water? The sailor's strength was sufficient to sustainboth himself and the little girl. He appeared to have no difficulty inholding her above the surface; and as to getting back to the raft, Snowball was surely doing more service in steering the raft towardsthem? 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 beganto make way in the opposite direction. 

Little William, however, did not observe this sinister circumstance; orif he did, it was for the moment driven out of his mind by one stillmore sinister, that just then came under his observation. 

Only for a few seconds had he remained watching the negro, andwondering, with unpleasant thoughts, why the latter before leapingoverboard had half drawn the knife from his belt and then resheathed it. Something like a suspicion passed through the mind of the youth. Whatcould the negro want with a knife, if his object was to give help to theswimmer? 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 theboy. Still, it had shaped itself, to be succeeded by a feeling ofremorse for the wrong which he had done to Snowball in entertaining it. Almost on the instant did he become conscious of this wrong, by anobject coming under his eyes and which at once accounted for the conductof the Coromantee, that had seemed strange. Snowball was swimmingtowards Ben Brace, --not to destroy, --but with the intention of savinghim. 

From what? Was the sailor really in danger of sinking, so as to standin need of support both for himself and his burden?

Little William did not put such an interrogatory. All his conjectureswere ended. The peril threatening his patron, --and little Lalee aswell, --was plainly outlined before his eyes, in all its frightfulreality. That flattish, dark disc, with lunetted edge, rising erectabove the surface, and cutting keenly through the rippling water, was anobject 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 suchin reality it was. 

He saw, moreover, it was the same he and little Lalee had so late beencontemplating in security, --the dreaded zygaena: for through thetranslucent water he could distinguish its hammer-shaped head, and lurideyes 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, thezygaena, and Ben Brace with his burden. 

Just as William had arrived at the comprehension of the Coromantee'sbehaviour, the _dramatis persona_ were placed relatively to each otherin a triangular position, --an isosceles triangle, in which Snowball andthe shark represented the angles at the base, while Ben with his chargeoccupied the apex. The latter point was almost stationary, while boththe former were moving towards it in converging lines, fast as shark andman could swim. 

The situation was easily explained. The zygaena, hitherto holding itscourse ahead of the _Catamaran_, had become apprised of the catastropheoccurring among the crew. The plash occasioned by little Lalee as shewas flung upon the water, and the heavier concussion of Ben's body as heplunged overboard, had reached the monster's ears; and, with that fellinstinct peculiar to its tribe, it had suddenly turned in the water, andcommenced swimming toward the wake of the craft; where it knew thatanything, whether human or otherwise, falling overboard, must inevitablydrift. 

While passing the _Catamaran_ towards the wake, Snowball had caughtsight of its fan-like fin, --which apprised him of the direction it wastaking, at the same time revealing to him its design. 

The plunge which Snowball had made as he sprang out into the water hadcaused the zygaena to swerve from its course; and for some moments itswam towards _him_, as if determined upon changing the object of itsattack; but whether not liking the looks of the Coromantee or frayed byhis bold attitude in making directly towards it, it shied back into itsformer course, and kept on towards the others. 

Of course, the sailor, encumbered as he was by the half-lifeless form ofthe girl, would stand but little chance of making a successful defenceagainst a shark, --more especially such a monster as the zygaena; and itwas the knowledge of this that had summoned Snowball to the rescue. 

Against such an adversary a more capable combatant than the Coromanteecould scarce have been found on the waters of the ocean, or even _in_them. He could swim like a swan, and dive like a sea-duck; nor was itthe first time for him to have fought the shark in its own element;neither would it be the first time should he prove conqueror in thecombat. 

On launching into the lists, his chief dread had not been for himself, but for those he was proceeding to rescue. 

In point of time the shark had had the start of him; and, although onparting from the raft the distances each would have to traverse were notvery unequal, Snowball knew that his scaly competitor far excelled himin the quality of speed. 

It was this thought that was causing him anxiety, --amounting almost toanguish, --that caused him to plunge wildly through the water, --to utterloud cries, and make other noisy demonstrations, --with a view ofdistracting the attention of the zygaena from the victims it hadfore-chosen, and drawing its attack upon himself. 

His shouts and gesticulations proved equally unavailing. The cunningzygaena took no heed of either; but with its dark dorsal fin, set like awell-bent sail, it kept straight on towards the easier victims. 

The sides of the isosceles triangle were gradually growing unequal, --gradually and slowly, but, alas! surely. Already was it an irregular_scalene_. Snowball perceived the change, --each moment becoming moreperceptible, each moment augmenting his fears. 

"Poor lilly Lally!" cried he, in a voice that betrayed his anxiety. "OMass' Ben! fo' de lub o' Gorramity, swum to de right, --round dat away, an' let me git 'tween you an de ravenin' beast. To de right!--da's deway. Do yer bess, Mass' Brace, an' gi' me time get up. I take care o'de lubber ef I once get im widin reach o' dis chile's arm. "

The injunction thus uttered had the desired effect. Up to that time thesailor, sunk low in the water by reason of the extra weight, had notbecome fully cognisant of the peril of his position. Hitherto his mindhad been more occupied with the idea of overtaking the raft, than anydanger to be dreaded from sharks. He was not even aware of thezygaena's approach; for the fin, which had betrayed the monster'spresence to those on the _Catamaran_, --from being seen _en profile_, --could not so easily be distinguished when viewed in "front-face. " Nowonder, therefore, that the victims which the zygaena had selected forits attack remained unconscious of its approach; and it was only onseeing Snowball spring out from the _Catamaran_, and swim towards him, that the sailor suspected the proximity of a shark. At the sameinstant, also, he remembered the interrogatory that had been addressedto him by little William, and his own laconic reply designating theindividual as a _hammer-head_. From these various circumstances hecould tell that there was a shark bearing down upon him; but in whatdirection he could not conjecture, until the hurried words of Snowballadmonished him to "make way to de right. "

The sailor had too much respect for the experience of the ex-cook todisregard the injunctions thus given; and of hearing them, he at onceswerved in the direction indicated, and "made way to de right" as fastas a man could swim with only one hand free for the stroke. 

Fortunately for all parties, the one arm proved sufficient. The newdirection entered upon by the swimmer soon changed the relative positionof all parties. The triangle became resolved into a right line, --theshark at one extremity, --the sailor with his charge at the other, --Snowball midway between!

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. 

FACE TO FACE. 

By this change in the position of the parties, the zygaena had lost itsadvantage. Instead of having for the object of its attack an exhaustedswimmer encumbered with a weight, without a weapon, or even an arm freeto wield one, it would now have for its antagonist a strong man, --freshand vigorous, --armed with a long-bladed knife; one, moreover, who fromearliest youth had lived a half-amphibious life, and who was almost asmuch at home in the water as the shark itself. At all events, theCoromantee could calculate on keeping himself _above_ water for severalhours without rest, and _under_ it as long as any other animal whosenatural element was the earth or the air. 

Snowball, however, had no intention to go _wider_, --not an inch deeperthan he could possibly help: for therein would lie his danger, and heknew it. As we have already said, it was not the first time for him toencounter a shark in its own element; and though, perhaps, not sofamilial with the _hammer-head_ as with the white shark, he was notaltogether unacquainted with the habits and peculiarities of the formerspecies. 

He knew that the zygaena, like others of its congeners, in seizing anobject, requires to have that object _under_ it; otherwise, it iscompelled to turn upon its back or side, just in proportion as the preyit would seize lies high or low in the water. If altogether on thesurface, the shark is forced to make a complete roll, belly upward; andthis necessity, --arising from the peculiar position of the animal'smouth, and the conformation of its jaws, --is well-known among mariners, and better among true shark-fighters, who use it to their advantage. Among the pearl-divers of the Vermilion Sea (Gulf of California), theattack of the common shark is but little dreaded. The only weapon usedby them is a piece of stick (the _estaca_), sharpened at both ends, andhardened by fire. Provided with this simple weapon, which they carry, stuck through a loop in their leathern belt, they dive without fearamong the sharks that frequent the waters of the pearl-oyster fishery. When attacked by one of these voracious creatures, they wait for themoment when the shark makes its semi-somersault, and opens its cavernousmouth. Then, with an adroitness drawn from practice, and a fearlessnesswhich only great confidence can give, they thrust the _estaca_, gag-fashion, between the creature's jaws, leaving it no alternative butto retreat with its jaws wide open, or to close them to its own certaindestruction. Among these pearl-fisheries, however, a species of sharkoccasionally shows itself that cannot be destroyed in such a simplefashion. It is known as the _tintorera_, and is as much dreaded by thepearl-divers as the common shark is by the ordinary mariner. 

Fierce as is the zygaena and dreaded above all others of its tribe, --half the dread no doubt is attributable to its hideous configuration. Snowball knew that before it could injure him, it must make thehalf-turn, and, therefore, approached it with the determination to keepwell upon the surface of the water, and not let it get above him. 

The conflict was now inevitable: for the shark, although apparently alittle put about by the transposition that had taken place, haddetermined upon having a meal of human flesh. Its white victims hadescaped it for the time, but it was not particular as to the colour ofthe skin, and Snowball might be as sweet to its palate as Ben Brace orLilly Lalee. 

We are not going to assert that it reasoned after this fashion, or thatany thoughts whatever passed through its huge mallet-shaped skull. Indeed, there was not much time for reflection: for as Snowballinterposed his body between the zygaena and its intended victims, thewoolly head of the Coromantee and the hammer-head of the shark werescarcely three lengths of a handspike from each other. 

It was a fearful situation for a human being to be in; and any otherthan an old shark-fighter would, at such a moment, have succumbed fromsheer terror. 

Not so Snowball, who appeared to enter the lists with as little dreadand as much confidence as if his _fetisch_ had given him full assuranceof victory. 

Little William, standing upon the stern of the _Catamaran_ withsuspended breath, noting every turn of the spectacle, could see Snowballdrawing the knife from his belt. Not for long, however, did he hold itclutched in his hand. For greater convenience, and to give his handsfree play, while evading the attacks of his finny antagonist, hetransferred the knife to his mouth, where it was seen set transverselyacross his cheeks, the blade tightly held between his teeth. In thisstrange fashion did Snowball meet his enemy, --the truculent tyrant ofthe deep. 

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. 

A RING PERFORMANCE. 

It might be supposed that the shark would have rushed instantaneouslyupon its antagonist, regardless of aught save making a meal of him. Butno, the zygaena, notwithstanding its great voracity, like the rest ofits tribe, is endowed with certain instincts of caution. The sea-tiger, as well as that of the land, can tell instinctively whether the objectof its attack is likely to become an easy prey, or turn out a dangerousadversary. 

Some such--shall we call it an idea?--seemed to enter the unshapelyskull of the hammer-head, --suggested no doubt by the bold attitude whichSnowball had assumed. In all likelihood, had the negro been makingaway, instead of swimming towards it, and showing signs of a desire toescape, its onset would have been made on the instant. 

As it was, the shark saw itself _vis-a-vis_ to an adversary nearly aslarge as itself and quite as courageous; and it is possible also thatits pilot-fish, --a brace of which had advanced close to Snowball'ssnout, and after submitting his dusky carcass to a brief examinationreturned to their master, --it is just possible that these emissaries hadreported to their patron, that the game he was in pursuit of must beapproached with caution. 

At all events something had been communicated that produced a suddenchange in the tactics of the zygaena. Instead of rushing recklessly onto the attack, --or even keeping up the swimming pace by which it hadhitherto been making its approach, --on arriving within some half-scorefathoms of Snowball's face, it gradually slackened speed, until itsbrown, fan-like fins, gently oscillating along its sides seemed nolonger to propel its body through the water. 

Moreover, on drawing nearer, it swerved slightly from its course, --as ifwith the design either of attacking its adversary in the rear, orpassing him altogether!

Strange enough, the two parasites appeared to direct this movement: forboth kept swimming alongside the zygaena, one of them opposite each ofits huge eyeballs. 

The negro seemed slightly perplexed by this unexpected manoeuvre. Hehad anticipated an instantaneous attack, and had made every preparationto receive and repel it. He had even taken the knife from his teeth, and was holding it tightly clutched in his right hand, ready to deal hisdeadly blow. 

The shyness of the shark produced a disappointment. 

Something besides: for it now occurred to Snowball that the cunningzygaena was trying to pass him, with the design of making a _razzia_towards the helpless party in his rear. 

The moment this suspicion arose to him he turned short in the water, andstruck out in a direction that would enable him to head the shark, and, if possible, intercept it. 

Whether the creature intended to pursue his original plan of attackingthe sailor and his charge, or whether he was manoeuvring to _turn_ theCoromantee, it mattered not. In either case Snowball was pursuing thecorrect strategy. He knew that if his supple antagonist could once getround to his rear, his chances of safety for himself or the others wouldbe sadly diminished. Should the zygaena once get past him and continueon towards the sailor, swift swimmer as Snowball was, he could have nochance of overtaking a fish. 

At this crisis a thought occurred to him which promised to avert thecalamity he most dreaded, --that is, the shark getting past him, andcontinuing on to the others. The thought found expression in speech. 

"Ho! Massa Brace!" he cried, once more taking the steel from betweenhis teeth. "Swim roun' to de right. Keep a-gwine in de circle. For deLord sake, keep ahind me, or you loss fo' sartin!"

The sailor scarcely needed the counsel. He saw the danger beforeSnowball had spoken, and had already commenced the movement which theCoromantee was requesting him to make. 

Once more the tableau changed. The _dramatis persona_ in their relativepositions first formed an isosceles triangle, then a scalene, afterwardsa right line. Now all were moving in a circle, or rather in threecircles concentric to one another; the sailor, with his charge, revolving round the centre, Snowball in mid radius, while the shark, flanked by his satellites, went gliding along the outer circumference, his lurid eyes glaring continually inward, as if watching for anopportunity to break the line so carefully guarded by the Coromantee!

For full five minutes was this "ring" performance kept up, without anygreat alteration occurring in the relative positions of the parties. But it was a game in which the outside player had all the advantage;for, although the zygaena had by far the greater distance to traverse, what was but sport to it was fatigue and the danger of drowning to itsadversaries. 

Had its skull been of a different formation, and filled with a betterset of brains, it would have endeavoured to keep up that game, withoutin the least degree changing the mode of playing it. In due time, itschief antagonist, Snowball, must have cried quarter or gone to thebottom; and far sooner must have sunk the weighted swimmer in his wake. 

But sharks, like other creatures both aquatic and terrestrial, havetheir moments of impatience and anger; and the zygaena, yielding tothese passions, common to both piscine and human nature, at lengthdetermined to break through the rules of the game, and bring the play toan abrupt termination. 

In obedience to this impulse, it suddenly swerved from its circularcourse, and, heading towards the spot where Ben Brace, with Lilly Laleeclinging to his shoulder, was performing his shorter revolutions, itmade a reckless and determined rush for the centre, --equally regardlessof the admonition of its brace of monitors and the cold steel of theCoromantee, gleaming clear under the water through which it would haveto make its way. So near had it to pass to the negro's flat nose thatits glutinous skin would be almost in contact with his prominent lips, and with his outstretched hand he need have no difficulty in strikinghis slippery antagonist. 

Had Snowball been anticipating this change of tactics, he could not haveacted more adroitly, or with greater promptness. As the zygaena wasgliding onward, and just as its rough _pectoral_ passed within an inchof his nose, he suddenly returned the knife between his teeth, and, simultaneously using both hands and limbs, he sprang upward in thewaiter, and, with a vigorous effort, launched himself on its back!

In the next instant he was seen, --or might have been seen, --with onehand, the left, firmly grasping the bony protuberance of the zygaena'sleft eye, his muscular fingers deeply imbedded in the socket, while hisright, clutching the long knife, was inflicting a series of stabsagainst the side of his adversary, now flashing high in the air, nowgleaming under water, going up and down with all the measured regularityof a trip-hammer. 

When it pleased the Coromantee to dismount from his slippery saddle, thezygaena floated by his side, --a carcass stained with its own blood, thatfor fathoms around encrimsoned the azure waters of the ocean!

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. 

THE CHASE OF THE CATAMARAN. 

As we have said, little William, standing near the stern of the_Catamaran_, had watched the spectacle with suspended breath. It wasonly after seeing the zygaena float lifeless on the water, and becomingsatisfied that Snowball had come out of the struggle safe as well asvictorious, that the boy gave utterance to a shout. Then, unable longerto restrain himself, he raised a cry of joyful exultation. 

It was neither prolonged nor repeated. It had scarce passed his lips, ere it was succeeded by another of very different import. This was thevery opposite to a shout of joy: rather was it a cry of consternation. That little drama of the ocean, of which he had been the sole spectator, was not yet over. There was another act to come of equally thrillinginterest with that just ended, --an act in which he himself would becalled upon to play an important part along with the others. 

It had already commenced; and the wild cry which escaped from the lipsof the sailor-lad announced his first perception of the new phase intowhich the drama had entered. 

Absorbed in the contemplation of the combat between Snowball and theshark, he had hitherto remained unobservant of a circumstance of themost alarming character, --one that threatened not only the destructionof the Coromantee, but Ben Brace as well, and Lilly Lalee, and in timelittle William himself, --in short, of the whole party. 

The lives of all were at that moment in the hands of the sailor-lad, orif not in his hands, then were all of them doomed to certaindestruction. 

You may be wondering what strange circumstance this was, fraught withsuch a terrible contingency. There was nothing mysterious in or aboutit. It was simply that the _Catamaran_, carrying its large spread sail, was drifting to leeward, and rapidly increasing the distance betweenitself and the swimmers. 

Relieved from the anxiety with which he had regarded the conflict, little William at once became aware of this new danger, --hence his cryof consternation. Ben Brace either perceived it at the same instant, orelse the shout of his _protege_ had drawn his attention to it; for, quick succeeding the latter, the voice of the sailor went rolling acrossthe water in words of direction intended for the ears of little William. 

"Will'm! Will'm!" shouted he, raising his lips above the surface so asto enunciate more distinctly. "For marcy's sake, lad, lay hold on thesteerin' oar. Try to tack round, or we're lost one an' all o' us!"

At the same instant Snowball sputtered out some very similar orders; butbeing sadly out of breath from his exertions in the long-continuedstruggle with the zygaena, what proceeded from his mouth less resembledwords than the snorting of a porpoise; and was, in truth, altogetherunintelligible. 

Little William needed no instructions, --neither to hear nor understandthem. He had perceived the danger, and, with intuitive promptness, hadcommenced taking measures to avoid it. Partly guided by his ownthoughts and partly by the directions of Ben Brace, he sprang suddenlytowards the steering-oar; and, grasping it in both hands, he worked withall his might to bring the _Catamaran_ about. After a time he succeededin getting her head as close to the wind as such a craft was capable ofsailing, but it soon became evident to him that the manoeuvre would beof little or no avail. Although the raft did not make leeway quite asmuch as before, still with its great sail, rudely bent as it was, shemade sufficient to preserve the distance from the swimmers; and, asWilliam anxiously observed, still slightly increasing. Even Snowball, who, after giving the _coup de grace_ to the zygaena, had struck directtowards the _Catamaran_, --even he, unencumbered by aught save his wetshirt and trousers, although easily passing the others in his course, did not appear to gain an inch upon the runaway raft. 

It was an anxious time for all parties; and the anxiety reached itsheight when they perceived, as one and all soon did, that theunmanageable craft was keeping its distance, if not gaining a greater. 

That state of things could not continue long. Both the swimmers hadalready begun to show signs of flagging. Snowball, sea-duck that hewas, might have held out a good while; but the sailor, weighted withLalee, must soon "go under. " Even Snowball could not swim forever; and, unless some incident should arise to change the character of thisaquatic chase, and arrest the _Catamaran_ in her leeward course, sooneror later must the Coromantee become also the prey of the all-swallowingocean. 

For several minutes--they seemed hours to all--did the struggle continuebetween man and _Catamaran_, without any very great advantage in favourof either. It is true some change had taken place in the relativepositions of the parties. The Coromantee, at starting in pursuit of theraft, had been some fathoms in the wake of Ben Brace and his _protege_. They were now in his wake, falling, alas! still farther behind him. Unfortunately for all, Snowball, while increasing his distance fromthem, was not lessening it from the _Catamaran_; and therefore theadvantage he was gaining over the sailor could be of no use, so long asthe raft proved swifter as a sailer than he was as a swimmer. 

Snowball's original idea in striking out in pursuit of the _Catamaran_was to get aboard; and, by making a better use of the steering-oar thanhe had hitherto done, to bring the craft back within _saving_ distanceof the exhausted swimmer. Confident in his natatory powers, he had atfirst believed this feat to be not only possible, but probable and easy. It was only after several minutes spent in the pursuit, and thedistance between him and the _Catamaran_ seemed to grow greater insteadof less, that the negro really began to feel anxiety about the result. 

This anxiety kept increasing as the minutes passed, and the broadstretch of blue water between him and the _Catamaran_ appeared to growno narrower, strike out as he would with all the strength of his sinewyarms, and kick as he might with all the muscular energy that lay in hisstout legs. 

His anxiety became anguish, when, after one of his most vigorousefforts, he believed, or fancied, that all had been in vain, and thatthe _Catamaran_ had actually gained upon him. Whether fancy or not, itproduced conviction in his mind that to overtake the craft wasimpossible; and all at once he discontinued the attempt. He did not, however, remain stationary in the water. Far from that. On abandoningthe pursuit of the _Catamaran_, he turned like an otter, and looked backin the direction from which he had come. In this direction, nearly twohundred fathoms distant, two dark objects, so close together as to seemone, were visible over the "curl" of the water. 

They were just visible to an eye elevated several inches above thesurface; and Snowball was obliged to buoy himself into an erectattitude, --like a seal taking a survey of the circle around it, or a dogpitched unexpectedly into a deep pond, --before he could see them. 

He saw them, however; he knew what they were; and, without a moment'spause or hesitation, he recommenced cleaving the water in a line leadingdirectly towards them. 

The mind of the Coromantee, hitherto distracted by conflicting emotions, had now but one thought. It was less purpose than a despairinginstinct. It was to support the child who had been intrusted to him--the Lilly Lalee--above water as long as he should have strength; andthen to go down along with her into that vast, fathomless tomb, thatleaves no trace and carries no epitaph!

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. 

THE SAIL OUT OF SIGHT. 

The sea-cook and the sailor were now swimming towards each other. It istrue that Ben was not making very rapid way, nor did Snowball return onhis course with any great alacrity. Despair had rendered the lattersomewhat irresolute; and he scarcely knew why he was swimming back, unless it was to be drowned in company with the others; for drowning nowappeared their inevitable fate. 

Slowly as both swam, they soon came together, --the countenances of both, as they met, exhibiting that fixed, despairing look which bespeaks theutter extinction of hope. 

The _Catamaran_ was now at such a distance, that even could she havebeen suddenly arrested in her course, and brought to an anchor, it wasdoubtful whether either Snowball or the sailor could have reached her byswimming. The raft itself and the water-casks lashed around it were nolonger to be seen. Only the white sail, that like a bit of fleecycloud, equally fleeting, was fast lessening to a speck upon the distanthorizon. No wonder that hope had forsaken them!

The sailor wondered that the sail was still set. During the firstmoments, while endeavouring to come up with the craft, he had shouted toWilliam to let go the halliards. He had kept repeating this order, until his voice, already hoarse and faltering, grew almost inarticulatefrom sheet exhaustion of breath, and the rail, moreover, had drifted tosuch a distance that it was not likely the lad could hear him. Underthis impression he had at length discontinued his feeble cries, and swamon in slow and gloomy silence, wondering why William had not obeyed hisinjunctions, feeling chagrin at his not doing so, and with good reason, since the lowering of the sail might have still given them some chanceof overtaking the craft. 

It was just as the sailor had given over calling out, and relapsed intosullen silence, that Snowball was seen returning towards him. It was anadditional argument for despair this abandonment of the chase on thepart of the Coromantee. When such a swimmer had given it up, Ben knewit was hopeless. 

In a moment after they met face to face. The glance exchanged betweenthem was mutually understood without a word spoken by either. Eachtacitly read in the eyes of the other the dread destiny that awaitedthem, --near, and soon to be fulfilled, --drowning!

Snowball was the first to break the terrible silence. 

"You nigh done up, Massa Ben, --you muss be! Gib me de lilly gal. YouLally! you lay hold on ma shoulder, and let Massa Brace ress a bit. "

"No, --no!" protested the sailor, in a despairing tone. "It bean't nouse. I can carry her a bit longer. 'Tain't much longer as any o' us'll be--"

"Sh! Massa Brace, " interrupted the negro, speaking in a suppressedwhisper, and looking significantly towards the child. "Hope dar 's nodanger yet, " he added, in a voice intended for the ear of Lalee. "Weoberhaul de _Catamaran_ by 'm by. De wind change, and bring dat craffdown on us. 'Peak in de French, Massa Ben, " he continued, at the sametime adroitly adopting a _patois_ of that language. "De _pauvre jeunefille_ don't understan' de French lingo. I know it am all ober wi' boafyou an' me, and de gal, too but doan let her know it to de lass minute. It be no use to do dat, --only make her feel wuss. "

"_Eh bien_! all right!" muttered Ben, indiscriminately mingling hisFrench and English phrases. "_Pauvre enfant_! She shan't know nothin'from me o' what be afore her. Lord a marcy on all o' us! I don't seethe raft any more! Whar be it? Can you see it, Snowball?"

"Gorramity, no!" replied the black, raising himself up in the water toget a better view. "Gone out o' de sight altogedder! We nebba see dat_Catamaran_ any more, --no, nebba!"

The additional accent of despair with which these words were uttered wasscarce perceptible. Had there been a hope, it would have been shatteredby the disappearance of the raft, --whose white sail was now no longervisible against the blue background of the horizon. But all hope hadpreviously been abandoned; and this new phase of the drama produced butslight change in the minds of its chief actors. Death was alreadystaring them in the face with that determination which promised noprospect of avoiding it, and none was cherished. The only change thatoccurred was in the action. The swimmers no longer directed themselvesin a particular course. There was none for them to follow. With thedisappearance of the sail they no longer knew in what direction to lookfor the raft. For all they now knew of it, it might have gone to thebottom, leaving them alone upon the bosom of the limitless ocean. 

"No use swimmin' on'ards!" said Ben, despairingly. "It'll only wastethe bit of strength that be left us. "

"No use, " assented the negro. "Less lay to, and float on de water. Datbe easier, and we can keep up de longer. Do, Massa Ben, --gib me de gal. You mo' tired dan I. Come, lilly Lally, you grasp hold on ma shoulder!Dat's de bess way. Come, now, --come, dear lilly gal. "

And as Snowball spoke, he swam close alongside the girl and, gentlydetaching her hand from the shoulder of the sailor, transferred itsfeeble grasp to his own. 

Ben no longer offered resistance to this generous action on the part ofhis old comrade: for, in truth, he stood in dire necessity of therelief; and, the transfer having been effected, both continued to floatupon the water, sustaining themselves with no more effort than wasabsolutely necessary to keep their heads above the surface. 

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. 

WAITING FOR DEATH. 

For several minutes the wretched castaways of the _Catamaran_ remainedin their perilous position, --almost motionless in the midst of the deepblue water, --precariously suspended upon its surface, --suspended betweenlife and death!

Under any circumstances the situation would have been trying to thestoutest nerves, --even under circumstances where a hope of deliverancemight have been indulged in. Without this it was awful. 

Neither black man nor white one any longer contemplated the _danger_ ofdeath: both believed in its _certainty_. 

How could they doubt it?

Had either been standing upon the scaffold, with the condemned cap drawnover his eyes and the rope adjusted around his neck, he could not havefelt surer of the nearness of his end. 

Both believed it to be simply a question of time; an hour or two, --perhaps not so much, since the fatigues and struggles through which theyhad just passed had already made sad inroads upon their strength, --butan hour or two at most, and all would be over. Both must succumb to thelaws of Nature, --the laws of gravitation, --or rather of specificgravity, --and sink below the surface, --down, down into the fathomlessand unknown abysm of the ocean. Along with them, sharing their sadfate, Lilly Lalee, --that pretty, uncomplaining child, the innocentvictim of an ill-starred destiny, must disappear forever from a world ofwhich she had as yet seen so little, and that little of the leastfavourable kind. 

Throughout the whole affair the girl had shown but slight signs of theterrible affright that, under the circumstances, might have beenexpected. Born in a land and brought up among a people where human lifewas lightly and precariously held, she had been often accustomed to thespectacle of death, --which to some extent robs it of its terrors. Atall events, they who are thus used appear to meet it with a more stoicalindifference. 

It would be a mistake to suppose that the girl appeared indifferent. Nothing of the sort. She exhibited apprehension, --fear sufficient; butwhether her mind was overwhelmed by the extreme peril of the situation, or that she was still ignorant of its being extreme, certain it is thather behaviour, from beginning to end, was characterised by a calmnessthat seemed supernatural, or at all events superhuman. Perhaps she wassustained by the confidence she had in the brace of brave protectorsswimming alongside of her, --both of whom, even in that extreme hour, carefully refrained from communicating to her the belief which theythemselves in all fulness entertained, --that their lives were fastapproaching to a termination. 

The minds of both were fully imbued with this conviction, though not inthe same degree of fulness. If possible, the white man felt morecertain of the proximity of his end than did the negro. It is not easyto tell why it was so. The reason may, perhaps, be found in the fact, that the latter had been so often on the edge of the other world, had sooften escaped entering it, that, despite the impossibility of escapingfrom his present peril, --to all appearance absolute, --there stilllingered in his breast some remnant of hopefulness. 

Not so with the sailor. From the bosom of Ben Brace every vestige ofhope had vanished. He looked upon life as no longer possible. Once ortwice the thought had actually entered his mind to put an end to thestruggle, and, along with it, the agony of that terrible hour, bysuspending the action of his arms, and suffering himself to sink to thebottom of the sea. He was only restrained from the suicidal act, by theinfluence of that instinct of our nature, which abhors self-destruction, and admonishes, or rather compels us, to abide the final moment whendeath comes to claim us as its own. 

Thus, by different circumstances, and under different influences, werethe three castaways of the _Catamaran_ sustained upon the surface of thewater, --Lilly Lalee by Snowball, --Snowball, by the slightest ray of hopestill lingering in a corner of his black bosom, --the sailor by aninstinct causing him to refrain from the committal of that act which, incivilised society, under all circumstances, is considered as a crime. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. 

A CHEST AT SEA. 

All conversation had come to an end. Even the few phrases at intervalsexchanged between Snowball and the sailor, --the solemn import of whichhad been zealously kept from the child by their being spoken in_French_--were no longer heard. 

The swimmers, now wellnigh exhausted, had for a long interval preservedthis profound silence, partly for the reason of their being exhausted, and partly that no change had occurred in the circumstances surroundingthem, --nothing that required a renewal of the conversation. The awe ofapproaching death, --now so near, that twenty minutes or a quarter of anhour might be regarded as the ultimate moment, --held, as if spellbound, the speech both of Snowball and the sailor. 

There were no other sounds to interrupt the silence of that solemnmoment, --at least none worthy of being mentioned. The slightest rippleof the water, stirred by a zephyr breeze, as it played against thebodies of the languid swimmers, might have been heard, but was notheeded. No more did the scream of the sea-mew arrest the attention ofany of them, or if it did, it was only to add to the awe which reignedabove and around them. 

In this moment of deep silence and deepest misery, a voice fell upon theears of the two swimmers that startled both of them, as if it had been asummons from the other world. It sounded sweet as if from the world ofeternal joy. There was no mystery in the voice; it was that of theLilly Lalee. 

The child, sustained upon the shoulder of the buoyant black, was in sucha position that her eyes were elevated over the surface of the waterseveral inches above those either of him who supported her, or thesailor who swam by her side. In this situation she had a better viewthan either; and, as a consequence of this advantage, she saw what wasvisible to neither, --a dark object floating upon the surface of the seaat no great distance from the spot where the exhausted swimmers werefeebly struggling to sustain themselves. 

It was the announcement of this fact that had fallen with such startlingeffect upon the ears of the two men, simultaneously rousing both fromthat torpor of despair which for some time had held possession of them. 

"Who you see, Lilly Lally? Who you see?" exclaimed Snowball, who wasthe first to interrogate the girl. "Look at 'im 'gain, --look, goodlilly gal!" continued he, at the same time making an effort to elevatethe shoulder which gave support to his _protege_. 

"Wha be it? I ain't de raff, --de _Catamaran_? Eh?"

"No, no, " replied the child. "It isn't that. It's a small thing of asquare shape. It looks like a box. "

"A box? how come dat? A box! what de debbel!"

"Shiver my timbers if 'tain't my old sea-kit, " interrupted the sailor, rearing himself aloft in the water like a spaniel in search of woundedwaterfowl. 

"Sure as my name's Ben Brace it be that, an' nothing else!"

"Your sea-chess?" interrogated Snowball, elevating his woolly craniumabove the water, so as also to command a view. "Golly! I b'lieve itam. 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 kit to a sartainty. "

This conversation was carried on in a quick, hurried tone, and longbefore it ended, --in fact at the moment of its beginning, --the swimmershad once more put themselves in motion, and were striking out in thedirection of the object thus unexpectedly presented to their view. 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. 

AN IMPROVISED LIFE-PRESERVER. 

Whether it should turn out to be the sea-chest of Ben Brace or no, itappeared to be a chest of some sort; and, being of wood, buoyantlyfloating 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 goingto the bottom. 

If the sailor had entertained any doubts as to the character of theobject upon which they were advancing, they were soon brought to an end. It _was_ a sea-chest, --his own, --to him easy of identification. Wellknew he that close-fitting canvas cover, which he had himself made forit, rendered waterproof by a coat of blue paint, --well knew he thosehanging handles of strong sennit, he had himself plaited and attached toit; and, as if to provide against any possible dispute about theownership of the chest, were the letters "B. B. , "--the unmistakableinitials of Ben Brace, --painted conspicuously upon its side, just underthe keyhole, with a "fouled anchor" beneath, with stars and otherfantastic emblems scattered around, --all testifying to the artisticskill of the owner of the kit. 

The first thought of the sailor, on recognising his chest, was that somemisfortune had happened to the raft, and that it had gone to pieces. 

"Poor little Will'm!" said he. "If that be so, then it be all over wi'him. "

This belief was but of short duration, and was followed by a reflectionof a more pleasant kind. 

"No!" he exclaimed, contradicting his first hypothesis, "It can't bethat. What could 'a broke up the raft? There 's been no wind, norrough weather, as could 'a done it. Ha! I have it, Snowy. It's Will'm's did this. He's throwed over the chest in the behopes it might helpfloat us. That's how it's got here. Huzza for that brave boy! Let'scling on to the kit. There may be hope for us yet. "

This suggestion was superfluous: for the idea of clinging to the kit wasintuitive, and had entered the minds of both swimmers on their firstperceiving it. It was with that view they had simultaneously setthemselves in motion, and commenced swimming towards it. 

The chest certainly offered an attractive object to men circumstanced asthey were at that moment, --something more than a straw to be clutchedat. It was floating bottom downwards, and lid upwards, --just as itmight have been placed opposite Ben's own bunk in the forecastle of afrigate, --and it appeared to be kept steadily balanced in this positionby the weight of some iron cleeting along the bottom, which acted asballast. Otherwise the chest sat so high upon the water, as to showthat it must either be quite empty or nearly so; for the sennit handlesat each end, which were several inches below the level of the lid, hungquite clear above the surface. 

These handles offered the most salient points to seize upon; sotempting, too, that it was not necessary for the sailor to suggest thatSnowball should lay hold of one, while he himself sought the support ofthe other. 

This arrangement appeared to offer itself tacitly to the Instinct ofeach; and, on arriving near the chest, they swam to opposite ends, --andeach laid hold of a handle, as soon as he came within the properdistance to grasp it. 

This kept the chest properly balanced; and although the weight theyadded to it caused it to sink several inches in the water, to theirgreat joy its top still stood well above the surface. Even when thelight form of Lilly Lalee lay resting along the lid, there were stillseveral inches between the water line and its upper edge, --the onlyplace where sea-water could possibly find admission into the kit of theEnglish sailor. 

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. 

CONJECTURES ABOUT THE CATAMARAN. 

In less than three minutes after coming in contact with the kit, thethree castaways formed a group, curious and peculiar. On the right ofthe chest was the sailor, his body stretched transversely along its end, with his left arm buried to the elbow in the sennit loop forming itshandle. Half of his weight being thus supported by the buoyant box, itwas only necessary for him to keep his right arm in regular motion tosustain himself above the surface. This, even wearied as he was, he wasenabled to accomplish without difficulty: for the new position was onerather of rest than of labour. 

At the opposite end of the chest, in a _pose_ precisely similar, thesea-cook had placed himself, --the only difference being in the usesrespectively made of their arms. Snowball's right arm was the onethrust through the handle, his left being left free for swimming. 

As already hinted, Lilly Lalee had been transferred from Snowball'sshoulder to a more elevated position, --upon the top of the chest where, lying upon her breast, and grasping the projecting edge of the lid, shewas enabled to keep her place without any exertion. 

It is not necessary to say that this change in the situation andcircumstances of the party had also produced a change in theirprospects. It is true that death might have appeared as inevitable asever. They were still at its door, --though not quite so near enteringas they had been but a few minutes before. With the help of thecapacious chest--forming, as it did, a famous life-preserver--they mightnow sustain themselves for many hours above the surface, --in fact, aslong as hunger and thirst would allow them. Their holding out would besimply a question of strength; and had they been only assured of asupply of food and drink, they might have looked forward to a longvoyage performed in this singular fashion: that is, provided the seaaround them should keep clear of storms and sharks. 

Alas! the approach of one or the other of these perils was a contingencyto be looked for at any moment, and to be dreaded accordingly. 

Just at that moment they were not thinking of either, nor even of theprobability of perishing by hunger or its kindred appetite, --thirst. The singular coincidence that the chest should come floating that way, just when they were on the point of perishing, had produced a remarkableeffect on the minds both of the sailor and the sea-cook, begetting notpositive conviction, but a pleasant presentiment that there might beother and more permanent succour in store for them; and that, after all, they were not destined to die by drowning, --at least not just thenHope, --sweet, soothing hope!--had again sprung up in the bosom of both;and, along with it the determination to make a further effort for thesaving of their lives. They could now exchange both speech and counselwith perfect freedom; and they proceeded to discuss the situation. 

The presence of the chest required explanation. The theory, which atfirst sight of it had suggested itself to its owner (that the raft hadgone to pieces and that the kit was one of the scattered fragments) wasnot tenable, nor was it entertained for a moment. There had been noconvulsion, either of winds or waves, to destroy the _Catamaran_; andthis curiously-fashioned fabric, in all its fantastic outlines, muststill be intact and afloat somewhere upon the surface of the sea. 

It is true they could see nothing of it anywhere; neither could LillyLalee, who, from her more elevated position, was instructed to surveythe circle of the horizon, --a duty which the child performed with thegreatest care. 

If the craft had been anywhere within the distance of a league or two, the large lateen sail should have been sufficiently conspicuous to havecaught the eye of the girl. But she saw it not. She saw nothing, --soran her report, --but the sea and sky. 

From this it might have been inferred (even supposing the _Catamaran_ tobe still afloat) that it must have drifted to such a distance as to havedestroyed all chance of their ever overtaking it. But the sage seamandid not give way to this form of reasoning. His conjectures were of amore consolatory character, --founded upon certain data which hadpresented themselves to his mind. On reflection, he came to theconclusion that the presence of the sea-chest upon the bosom of the bluewater was no accidental circumstance, but a design, --the design oflittle William. 

"I be sure o't, Snowy, " said he; "the lad ha' chucked the kit overboard, knowin' as how we mout overhaul it, when we could not come up wi' the_Catamaran_. The chest war amidships, when I parted from it. Itcouldn't a' got into the water o' itself no-howsomever; besides, it warfull o' heavy things, and now I'm sartin it be empty, --else how do itfloat so? Sure he must a' whammelled it upside down, and spilled outthe things afore he pitched it overboard. It was thoughtful o' him; buthe be just the one for that. I've seed him do some'at similar afore. Only think o' the dear boy!"

And Ben, after this burst of enthusiasm, for a moment indulged hisadmiration in silence. 

"Dat's all berry likely, --berry likely, " was the rejoinder of theCoromantee. 

"I know what he did next, " said Ben, continuing the thread of hisconjectures. 

"Wha' you tink, Massa Brace?"

"He tuk in sail. I don't know why he didn't do it sooner; for I calledto him to do that, an' he must ha' heerd me. I've jest got a idea thatthe fault was not his'n. When I hauled up that bit o' canvas, I've asort o' recollection o' puttin' a ugly knot on the haulyards. Maybe hewarn't able, wi' his little bits o' digits, to get the snarl clear, asfast as mout a' been wished; an' that'll explain the whole thing. Sartin he got down the sail at last, --eyther by loosin' the belay, orcuttin' the piece o' rope, and that's why there be no canvas in sight. For all that, the _Catamaran_ can't be so fur off. She hadn't had timeto a' drifted to such a great distance, --'specially if the sail were gotdown the time as we missed it. "

"Dat am true. I miss de sail all ob a sudden, --jess as if it had comedown, yard an' all, straight slap bang. "

"Well, then, Snowy, " continued the sailor, in a tone of increasedcheerfulness, "if't be as we conjecture, the craft ain't far ahead o' usyet. Maybe only a knot or two; for one can't see far over the water whohappens to be neck-deep under it as we be. In any case she be sure tobe lying to leuart o' us; and, without the sail, she won't drift fasterthan we can swim, nor yet so fast. Let us do the best we can to make amile or two's leeway; an' then we'll know whether the old Cat's stillcrawling about, or whether she's gin us the slip altogether. That's thebest thing we can do, --ain't it?"

"De berry bess, Massa Brace. We can't do nuffin' better dan swim downde wind. "

Without further parley, the two set themselves to the task thusproposed; and one striking with his right hand, the other with hisleft, --both buffeting the waves with equal vigour and resolution, --theywere soon sweeping onward with a velocity that caused the sea to surgealong the sides of the chest, until the froth rose to the fingers ofLilly Lalee as she lay grasping its lid!

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. 

DOWN THE WIND. 

They had not proceeded very far, when a cry from the girl caused them tosuspend their exertions. While the others were occupied in propellingthe chest, Lalee, kneeling upon the lid, had been keeping a lookoutahead. Something she saw had elicited that cry, which was uttered in atone that betokened, if not joy, at least some sort of gratification. 

"Wha is it, Lilly Lally?" interrogated the black, with an air ofeagerness; "you see someting. Golly! am it de _Cat'maran_?"

"No, --it is not that. It's only a barrel floating on the water. "

"Only a ba'l, --what sort o' a ba'l you tink 'im?"

"I think it's one of the empty water-casks we had tied to the raft. I'msure it is: for I see ropes upon it. "

"It is, " echoed Ben, who, having poised himself aloft, had also caughtsight of the cask. "Shiver my timbers! it do look like as if the Cathad come to pieces. But no! Tain't that has set the cask adrift. Iset it all now. Little Will'm be at the bottom o' this too. He has cutaway the lashin's o' the barrel, so as to gie us one more chance, in thecase o' our not comin' across the chest. How thoughtful o' the lad!Just like 'im, as I said it war!"

"We bess swim for de cask an' take 'im in tow, " suggested the sea-cook;"no harm hab 'im 'longside too. If de wind 'pring up, de ole chess beno use much. De cask de berry ting den. "

"You're right, Snowy! we musn't leave the cask behind us. If the kithave served us a good turn, the other 'ud be safer in a rough sea. Itbe dead ahead, so we may keep straight on. "

In five minutes after, they were alongside the cask, --easily recognisedby its rope lashings, as one of those they had left attached to theraft. The sailor at the first glance saw that some of the chordsencircling it had been cut with a knife, or other sharp instrument, --notsevered with any degree of exactitude, but "haggled, " as if the act hadbeen hurriedly performed. 

"Little Will'm again! He's cut the ropes wi' the old axe, an' it wereblunt enough to make a job for him! Huzza for the noble lad!"

"Tay!" cried Snowball, not heeding the enthusiastic outburst of thesailor. "You hold on to de chess, Massa Brace, while I climb up on decask, and see what I can see. May be I may see de _Catamaran_ herseffnow. "

"All right, nigger. You had better do that. Mount the barrel, an' I'llkeep a tight hold o' the kit. "

Snowball, releasing his arm from the sennit loop, swam up to thefloating cask; and, after some dodging about, succeeded in gettingastride of it. 

It required a good deal of dexterous manoeuvring to keep the cask fromrolling, and pitching him back into the water. But Snowball was justthe man to excel in this sort of aquatic gymnastics; and after a time hebecame balanced in his seat with sufficient steadiness to admit of histaking a fair survey of the ocean around him. 

The sailor had watched his movements with a sage yet hopeful eye: forthese repeated indications of both the presence and providence of hisown _protege_ had almost convinced him that the latter would not be verydistant from the spot. It was nothing more than he had prepared himselfto expect, when the Coromantee, almost as soon as he had steadiedhimself astride of the water-cask, shouted, in a loud voice--

"The _Cat'maran_!--the _Cat'maran_!"

"Where?" cried the sailor. "To leuart?"

"Dead in dat same direcshun. "

"How fur, cookey? how fur?"

"Not so fur as you might hear de bos'n's whissel; not more dan tree, four length ob a man-o'-war cable. "

"Enough, Snowy! What do you think best to be done?"

"De bess ting we can do now, " replied the negro, "am for me to obertakedat ere craff. As you said, de sail am down; an' de ole Cat no gofasser dan a log o' 'hogany wood in a calm o' de tropic. If dis childswim affer, he soon come up; and den wif de oar an' de help ob lillyWilly, he meet you more dan half-way, --dat fo' sartin. "

"You think you can overtake her, Snowball?"

"I be sartin ob dat ere. You tay here wif Lilly Lally. Keep by dechess and de cask boaf, --for de latter am better dan de former. Nofear, I soon bring de _Cat'maran_ long dis way, once I get 'board o'her. "

So saying, the negro gave the cask a "cant" to one side, slipped offinto the water; and, with a final caution to his comrade to keep closeto the spot where they were parting, he stretched out his muscular armsto their full extent, and commenced surging through the water, --snortingas he went like some huge cetacean of the tribe of the _Mysticeti_. 

CHAPTER FORTY. 

LAUNCHING THE LIFE-PRESERVER. 

It is scarce necessary to say that, during all this time. LittleWilliam, on board the _Catamaran_, was half wild with anxious thoughts. He had obeyed the first instructions shouted to him by Ben Brace, andtaken to the steering-oar; but, after struggling for some time to getthe craft round, and seeing that his efforts were of no avail, hedropped it to comply with the still later orders given by the sailor: tolet loose the halliards and lower the sail. Ben had wondered, and witha slight feeling of chagrin, why this last order had not beenexecuted, --at least more promptly, --for at a later period he knew thesail had been lowered; but Ben was of course ignorant of the cause ofthe delay. 

His conjecture, however, afterwards expressed, when he half-rememberedhaving put "a ugly knot on the haulyards"; which he, little William, "maybe warn't able to get clear as fast as mout a been wished, " wasperfectly correct; as was also the additional hypothesis that the sailhad been got down at last, "either by loosin' the belay or cuttin' thepiece o' rope. "

The latter was in reality the mode by which the sailor-lad had succeededin lowering the sail. 

As Ben had conjectured, the belaying loop had proved too much for thestrength of William's fingers; and, after several fruitless efforts tountie the knot, he had at length given it up, and, seizing the axe, hadsevered the halliard by cutting it through and through. 

Of course the sail came down upon the instant; but it was then too late;and when William again looked out over the ocean, he saw only the oceanitself, with neither spot nor speck to break the uniformity of itsboundless bosom of blue. 

In that glance he perceived that he was alone, --he felt for the firsttime that he was alone upon the ocean!

The thought was sufficient to beget despair, --to paralyse him againstall further action; and, had he been a boy of the ordinary stamp, suchmight have been the result. But he was not one of this kind. Thespirit which had first impelled him to seek adventure by sea, proved amind moulded for enterprise and action. It was not the sort of spiritto yield easily to despair; nor did it then. 

Instead of resigning himself up to fate or chance, he continued to exertthe powers both of his mind and body, in the hope that something mightstill be done to retrieve the misfortune which had befallen the crew ofthe _Catamaran_. He again returned to the steering-oar; and, hastilydetaching it from the hook upon which it had been mounted as a rudder, he commenced using it as a paddle, and endeavoured to propel the raftagainst the wind. 

It is scarce necessary to say that he employed all his strength in theeffort; but, notwithstanding this, he soon became convinced that he wasemploying it in vain. The huge _Catamaran_ lay just as Snowball hadcharacteristically described her, --"like a log o' 'hogany wood in a calmob de tropic. "

Even worse than this; for, paddle as he would, the sailor-lad soonperceived that the raft, instead of making way against the wind, or evenholding its ground, still continued to drift rapidly to leeward. 

At this crisis another idea occurred to him. It might have occurredsooner, had his mind not been monopolised with the hope of being able torow the raft to windward. Failing in this, however, his next idea wasto throw something overboard, --something that might afford a support tothe swimmers struggling in the water. 

The first object that came under his eyes promising such rapport was thesea-kit of the sailor. As already stated, it was amidships, --where itsowner had been exploring it. The lid was open, and little Williamperceived that it was wellnigh empty; since its contents could be seenscattered on all sides, just as the sailor had rummaged them out, forming a _paraphernalia_ of sufficient variety and extent to havefurnished the forecastle of a frigate. 

The sight of the chest, with its painted canvas covering, which LittleWilliam knew to be water-tight, was suggestive. With the lid lockeddown, it might act as a buoy, and serve for a life-preserver. At allevents, no better appeared to offer itself; and, without furtherhesitation, the lad slammed down the lid, which fortunately had thetrick of locking itself with a spring, and, seizing the chest by one ofthe sennit handles, he dragged it to the edge of the raft, gave it afinal push, and launched it overboard into the blue water of the ocean. 

Little William was pleased to see that the kit, even while in the water, maintained its proper position, --that is, it swam bottom downwards. Itfloated buoyantly, moreover, as if it had been made of cork. He wasprepared for this; for he remembered having listened to a conversationin the forecastle of the _Pandora_, relating to this very chest, inwhich Ben Brace had taken the principal part, and in which the sea-goingqualities of his kit had been freely and proudly commented upon. William remembered how the _ci-devant_ man-o'-war's-man had boasted ofhis _craft_, as he called the kit, proclaiming it "a reg'lar life-buoyin case o' bein' cast away at sea, " and declaring that, "if 't waremp'y, --as he hoped it never should be, --it would float the whole crewo' a pinnace or longboat. "

It was partly through this reminiscence that the idea of launching thechest had occurred to little William; and, as he saw it receding fromthe stern of the _Catamaran_, he had some happiness in the hope, thatthe confidence of his companion and protector might not be misplaced;but that the vaunted kit might prove the preserver, not only of _his_life, but of the life of one who to little William was now _even_ dearerthan Ben Brace. That one was Lilly Lalee. 

CHAPTER FORTY ONE. 

A LOOKOUT FROM ALOFT. 

After launching the kit, little William did not think of surrenderinghimself to inaction. He bethought him that something more should bedone, --that some other _waifs_ should be turned adrift from the_Catamaran_, which, by getting into the way of the swimmers, might offerthem an additional chance of support. 

What next? A plank? No; a cask, --one of the empty water-casks? Thatwould be the thing, --the thing itself. 

No sooner thought of than one was detached. The lashings were cut withthe axe, in default of his finding a knife; and the cask, like the kit, soon fell into the wake. Not very rapidly it was true; for the_Catamaran_ now, deprived of her sail, did not drift so fast to leewardas formerly. Still she went faster than either the kit or the cask, however; on account of the breeze acting upon her stout mast and someother objects that stood high upon her deck; and William very reasonablysupposed that to swimmers so much exhausted, --as by that time must beboth Ben and Snowball, --even the difference of a cable's length might beof vital importance. 

It occurred to him also, that the greater the number of waifs sent intheir way, the better would be their chance of seeing and getting holdof one of them. Instead of desisting therefore, as soon as he haddetached the first cask, he commenced cutting loose a second, andcommitting it to the sea in like manner. 

Having freed a second, he continued on to a third, and then a fourth, and was actually about to sever the lashings of a fifth one, with theintention to leave only the sixth one--that which contained the stock ofprecious water--attached to the _Catamaran_. He knew that the raftwould still float, without any of the casks to buoy it up; and it wasnot any fear on that score that caused him to desist, when about to givethe cut to the cords that confined cask Number 5. It was an observationwhich he had made of an entirely different nature; and this was, thatthe third cask when set loose, and more especially the fourth, insteadof falling into the wake of the _Catamaran_, kept close by her side, asif loath to part company with a craft to which they had been sointimately attached. 

William wondered at this, but only for a short moment. He was not slowin comprehending the cause of the unexpected phenomenon. The raft, nolonger buoyed up, had sunk almost to the level of the surface; and thebreeze now failed to impel it any faster than the casks themselves: sothat both casks and _Catamaran_ were making leeway at a like rate ofspeed, or rather with equal slowness. 

Though the sailor-lad was dissatisfied on first perceiving this, after amoment's reflection, he saw that it was a favourable circumstance. Ofcourse, it was not that the casks were making _more_ way to leeward, butthat the _Catamaran_ was making _less_; and, therefore, if there was achance of the swimmers coming up with the former, there was an equalprobability of their overtaking the latter, --which would be better inevery way. Indeed, the raft was now going at such a rate, that theslowest swimmer might easily overtake her, provided the distance betweenthem was not too great. 

It was this last thought that now occupied the mind of little William, and rendered him anxious. Had the swimmers fallen too far into thewake? Or would they still be able to swim on to the raft?

Where were they at that moment? He looked aft, towards the point fromwhich he supposed himself to have been drifting. He was not sure of thedirection; for the rude construction on which he stood had keptconstantly whirling in the water, --now the stem, now the quarters, anonthe bows, or beam-ends turned towards the breeze. He looked, but sawnothing. Only the sea-kit that by this time had got several hundredfathoms to windward, cask Number 1 a little nearer, and Number 2 stillnearer. These, however, strung out in a line, enabled him to conjecturethe direction in which the swimmers, if still above water, should befound. 

Indeed, it was something more definite than a conjecture. Rather was ita certainty. He knew that the raft could not have made way otherwisethan _down the wind_; and that those who belonged to it could not beelsewhere than to windward. 

Guided, therefore, by the breeze, he gazed in this direction, --sweepingwith his eye an arc of the horizon sufficiently large to allow for anydeviation which the swimmers might have made from the true track. 

He gazed in vain. The kit, the casks, a gull or two, soaring on snowywings, were all the objects that broke the monotony of the blue water towindward. 

He glided across the low-lying planks of the raft, and up to the emptycask still attached, which offered the highest point for observation. He balanced himself on its top, and once more scanned the sea towindward. 

Nothing in sight, save kit, casks, and gulls lazily plying their longscimitar-shaped wings with easy unconcern, as if the limitless oceanwas, --what in reality it was, --their habitat and home. 

Suffering the torture of disappointment, --each moment increasing inagony, --little William leaped down from the cask; and, rushingamidships, commenced mounting the mast. 

In a few seconds he had swarmed to its top: and, there clinging, oncemore directed his glance over the water. He gazed long withoutdiscovering any trace of his missing companions, --so long that hissinews were tried to the utmost; and the muscles both of his arms andlimbs becoming relaxed, he was compelled to let go, and slide downdespairingly upon the planks forming the deck of the _Catamaran_. 

He stayed below only long enough to recover strength; and then a secondtime went swarming up the stick. If kit and casks should serve nobetter purpose, they at least guided him as to the direction; andlooking over both, he scanned the sea beyond. 

The gulls guided him still better; for both--there was a brace of them--had now descended near to the surface of the sea; and, wheeling in shortflights, seemed to occupy themselves with some object in the waterbelow. Though they were at a great distance off, he could hear anoccasional scream proceeding from their throats: as if the objectattracting them excited either their curiosity or some passion of a moreturbulent character. 

Their evolutions, --constantly returning towards a centre, --guided theeye of the observer until it rested on an object just visible above thesheen of the water. The colour of this object rendered it the more easyof being distinguished amidst the blue water that surrounded it; for itwas blacker than anything which the sea produces, --unless it were thebone of the giant _Mysticetus_. Its shape, too--almost a perfectsphere--had something to do in its identification: for William was ableto identify it, and by a process of negative reasoning. It was not theblack albatross, the frigate-bird, nor the booby. Though of likecolour, there was no bird of such form as that. There was neither beastnor fish belonging to the sea that could show such a shape above itssurface. That sable globe, rounded like a sea-hedgehog, or aTurk's-head clew, and black as a tarred tackle-block, could be nothingelse than the woolly pate of Snowball, the sea-cook!

A little beyond were two other objects of dark colour and founded shape;but neither so dark nor so round as that already identified. They mustbe the heads of the English sailor and Lilly Lalee. They appeared to beequally objects of attraction to the gulls, that alternately flew fromone to the other, or kept hovering above them, --and continuouslyuttering their shrill, wild screams, --now more distinctly heard bylittle William, clinging high up on the mast of the _Catamaran_. 

CHAPTER FORTY TWO. 

ONCE MORE ABOARD. 

The sailor-lad did not remain longer on the top of the mast than just tosatisfy himself that what he saw were his companions, still afloat andalive. They were not at such a distance neither as to render italtogether impossible for them to recover their lost way; and, stimulated by this hope, little William determined upon continuing hisefforts to assist them. 

Gliding back upon the planks of the raft, he laid hold of the detachedoar; and once more plying it as a paddle, he endeavoured to propel the_Catamaran_ up the wind. 

It is true he made but slight progress in this direction but he had thesatisfaction of knowing that the craft held her ground, and somethingmore; as he could tell from the fact of the casks last set loose by him, falling a little to leeward. This showed that he must himself be makingway to the windward. 

The sea-chest and the cask first loosed from its lashings, had beenlaunched long before any of the others, --for it was only after aninterval of reflection that he had set free the rest, --and the formerwere now far to windward. When looking from the masthead he had notedthat the position of the swimmers was not so far beyond the kit; and itwas scarce possible at that time, that they could have failed todiscover it. Without staying to consider whether they had done so ornot, William had come down from his perch; and now that he had reappliedhimself to the oar, and saw that he was gaining ground in the rightdirection, he did not like to desist. Every fathom he made to windwardwas a fathom nearer to the saving of the lives of his companions, --astroke less for the swimmers to make, --to whom, wearied as they must nowbe, the saving of even a single stroke might be an object. 

With this thought urging him to perseverance, the sailor-lad stuck tohis oar, wielding it with all the strength in his arms, and onlythinking of the one purpose, --to make way against the wind. Fortunatelythe breeze, already gentle, seemed each moment to grow gentler, --as ifunwilling to oppose his efforts in the cause of humanity; and littleWilliam perceived, to his great gratification, that the casks alreadypassed by the _Catamaran_ were falling far into her wake. This provedthat he must be gaining upon the others. 

All at once a glad sight came suddenly under his eyes. Earnestlyoccupied with the oar, he had permitted more than a minute to elapsewithout casting a glance ahead. When at length he renewed his lookoutto windward, he was surprised to see, not only the cask and thesea-chest still nearer but on the top of the latter, a something thatwas not there before. Something that lay along the lid, with armsstretched downwards, and hands clutching its projecting edges. He alsoperceived two dark rounded objects in the water, --one near each end ofthe chest, --one rounder and blacker than the other, but both easilydistinguishable as the heads of human beings. 

The singular tableau was at once understood. Lilly Lalee was on the topof the sea-kit; Snowball and Ben Brace were flanking it, one at eachend. The chest was supporting all three. Hurrah! they were saved!

Little William, at that moment, felt certain they would be saved; thoughthat joyful certainty had not yet been communicated to them. Standingerect upon an elevated part of the raft, the boy had the advantage ofthem, and could note every movement they were making, without being seenby them. 

He did not spend much time in merely looking at them. He knew that thatwould be of no avail; and after giving utterance to one or two joyousejaculations, he returned to the oar, if possible plying it with greaterenergy than ever, from the renewed encouragement which he now derivedfrom the confidence of success. 

When he turned again and stood upright, looking to windward, the tableauhad changed. Lilly Lalee was still lying along the lid of the chest, but only one head was seen in the water! It was that of the sailor, asthe white face and the long flowing hair told him. 

Where was the cranium of the sea-cook? Where was the skull of Snowball?Gone with his body to the bottom?

These interrogatories flashed across the brain of the lad, causing him afeeling of alarm. It was of short continuance, however. In the nextmoment they were answered, and to his satisfaction. The Coromantee wasseen astride of the cask, more conspicuous than ever: only, being now ina slightly different direction, he had not been seen at the firstglance. 

Without shouting, or making any other idle demonstration, theintelligent youth once more applied himself to the oars, and vigorouslypropelled the raft to windward. 

He did not again desist, until a voice falling upon his ear and, pronouncing his name, caused him to look once more in the direction ofthe swimmers. 

Then, instead of seeing the Coromantee astride of the cask, he perceivedthe round black physiognomy of that individual above the surface of thewater, and scarce a cable's length from the _Catamaran_!

A double line of frothy ripple proceeding from each of his large spreadears, and running rapidly into his wake, indicated the direction inwhich he was swimming, --towards the raft, --while his eyeballs showingfearfully, and white as the froth itself, --the spluttering and blowingthat proceeded from his thick lips, and the agitation of the sea aroundhim, --all told that he was doing his very best to come up with the_Catamaran_. 

"Golly!" he gasped out, on perceiving himself within safe distance ofbeing heard. "Row dis way, lilly Willy! Row like de debbil, good lad!I'se most done up, --dat I be. In de space ob anoder cable length dischile he muss a gub up!"

And ending his speech with a loud "Whugh, " partly to clear the waterfrom his throat, and partly to express the satisfaction he felt at thenear prospect of deliverance, he continued to strike on towards theraft. 

In a few seconds more the long-protracted struggle was brought to atermination. Snowball succeeded in reaching the raft, and, assisted bythe sailor-lad, clambered aboard. 

Only staying to catch a little breath, the negro laid hold of the secondoar; and the _Catamaran_, under the double stroke, was soon brought _enrapport_ with the sea-chest; when the remainder of the crew wererestored to her decks, and delivered from a death that but a short timebefore had framed so certain as to be inevitable. 

CHAPTER FORTY THREE. 

REFITTING THE RAFT. 

On once more setting foot on the deck of the _Catamaran_ the strongsailor was so thoroughly exhausted that he was unable to stand erect, and after scrambling aboard, and staggering a pace or two, he lay downalong the planks. Lilly Lalee was taken care of by little William; who, half-leading, half-lifting her in his arms, tenderly placed her uponsome pieces of canvas near the foot of the mast. 

For this service, so fondly yet delicately performed, the boy felthimself amply rewarded by the glance of gratitude that shone in the eyesof the child, --even without the thanks faintly murmured by her onperceiving she was safe. 

Snowball, equally exhausted, dropped into a recumbent position. Allthree remained silent for a considerable length of time, and withoutstirring either hand or foot, --as though to speak or move in their stateof extreme weariness was impossible. 

Little William, however, did not resign himself to inaction. As soon ashe had disposed of Lalee, he made direct to that corner of the_Catamaran_ where a small barrel or keg, half submerged under the water, was attached to one of the timbers of the craft. It was the kegcontaining the precious "Canary. "

Carefully extracting the bung, --which, in the lashing of the keg, hadbeen purposely kept upwards, --he inserted a dipper, --that is to say, asmall tin vessel, or drinking "taut, "--which had turned up among thestores of the sea-kit, and which, having been already used for the samepurpose, was provided with a piece of cord attached around its rim, likethe vessel in use among the gaugers or wine-merchants for drawing theirwine from the wood. This was hoisted out again, filled with the sweetfluid which the keg contained; and which was at once administered, --first to Lilly Lalee, then to William's own especial protector, BenBrace; and lastly, after a fresh draw from the keg, to the real owner ofthe wine, --the Coromantee. The spirit of the grape, grown upon thedeclivities of Teneriffe, acted like magic on all three; and in a fewminutes both sailor and sea-cook were sufficiently restored to thinkabout taking certain prudent measures, that had now become necessary, and that would require a fresh exertion of their strength. 

These measures were the recovery of the empty casks which William haddetached from the _Catamaran_; and for the want of which that improvisedcraft not only lay much lower in the water than when they had left her, but was altogether a less seaworthy structure. 

The sailor's chest, --for which its owner now felt increased affection, --was the first thing secured; and next the cask upon which Snowball hadbestraddled himself to get a better view. Both were near, and easilyreached by a little rowing. 

The other three casks had drifted to a considerable distance to leeward, and were still continuing their course; but as all three were in sight, the crew of the _Catamaran_ anticipated no great difficulty inovertaking them. 

Nor did any occur. A pair of oars handled by the sailor and sea-cook, with the sailor-boy standing up to direct the course in which theyshould pull, soon brought the raft down upon the straying hogsheads; andthey were picked up one after the other, the severed ropes respliced, and all of them set back in their old positions, --so that but for thewet garments clinging around the bodies of those who had been overboard, and perhaps the pale and wearied expression upon their countenances, noone could have told that anything had gone wrong on board the_Catamaran_. 

As to their wet clothes, none of them cared much for that; and if therehad been any discomfort in it, it was not likely to continue long underthe hot sun then shining down upon them. So rapidly was this part ofthe damage becoming repaired that all three, --but more especiallySnowball--were now surrounded by a cloud of evaporation that would soondry every stitch of clothing they had on. 

The negro, --partly from the natural heat proceeding from his own body, and partly from the strong sunbeams, --was smoking like a fresh kindledpit of charcoal: so that, through the strata of steam that encompassedhis head and shoulders, it would have been impossible to tell whether hewas black or white. In the midst of this Juno-like _nimbus_ however, the negro continued to talk and act, helping the sailor and littleWilliam, until not only were the water-casks restored to their properplaces, but the sail was hauled up to the mast, and the _Catamaran_ oncemore scudding before the breeze, as if not the slightest accident hadoccurred either to craft or crew. 

Care was taken, however, this time to make fast the halliard rope with aproper "belay"; and although Snowball might have deserved a caution tobe more vigilant for the future, it was not deemed necessary toadminister it, as it was thought the peril out of which they had somiraculously escaped would prove to him a sufficient reminder. 

There was but one misfortune arising out of the adventure that mighthave caused the crew of the _Catamaran_ any serious regret. This wasthe loss of a large portion of their stock of provisions, --consisting ofthe dried fish, --partly those that had been half cured by Snowballprevious to the union of the two rafts, and partly the flitches ofshark-meat, that had been taken from the lesser raft, and added toSnowball's store. 

These, with the object of having them thoroughly dried, had been exposedto the sun, on the tops of the water-casks which little William had letloose. In the hurry and excitement of the moment, it was not likely thelad should give a thought to the flitches of fish. Nor did he; andwhile freeing the water-casks from their fastenings, and pushing themoff from the raft, the pieces were all permitted to slide off into thewater, and either swim or go to the bottom, as their specific gravitymight dictate. The consequence was, that, when everything else wasrecovered, these were lost, --having actually gone to the bottom, orfloated out of sight; or, what was more probable than either, havingbeen picked up by the numerous predatory birds hovering in the heavensabove, or the equally voracious fish quartering the depths of the oceanunderneath. 

It was not without some chagrin that Snowball contemplated his reducedstores, --a chagrin in which his companions could equally participate. At the time, however, they felt the misfortune less bitterly than theymight otherwise have done, --their spirits being buoyed up by themiraculous escape they had just made, as well as by a hope that thelarder so spent might be replenished, and by a process similar to thatby which it had been originally stocked. 

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. 

THE ALBACORES. 

The hope of replenishing their larder was likely to be realised easily, and ere long. Scarce had their sail caught the breeze, when theyperceived alongside the _Catamaran_ a shoal of the most beautiful fishthat are to be found in any part of the boundless ocean. There wereseveral hundreds in the shoal; like mackerel, all nearly of one size, and swimming, moreover in the same direction, --just as a school ofmackerel are seen to do. 

They were much larger, however, than the common mackerel, --each beingabout four feet in length, with a stout, though well-proportioned body, having that peculiar elegance of shape which belongs to all the mackereltribe. 

Their colour was sufficient of itself to entitle them to the appellationof beautiful creatures. It was a bright turquoise blue or azure, showing, in certain lights, a tinge of gold. This was the colour oftheir backs; while underneath they were of a silvery white, gleamingwith a lively iridescence. A row of spurious fins above the tail, andanother underneath, were of a bright yellow; while their large roundeyes exhibited an iris of silver. 

Their pectoral fins were very long and sickle-shaped; while the dorsalone, also well developed, presented a structural peculiarity in having adeep groove running longitudinally down the spine of the back, intowhich the fin, --when at rest and depressed, --exactly fitted: becoming socompletely sheathed and concealed, as to give to the fish the appearanceof being without this apparatus altogether!

If we except their lovely hues, their greater size, and a few other lessnotable circumstances, the fishes in question might have been taken formackerel; and it would have been no great mistake to so describe them:since they were in reality of this genus. They were of a differentspecies, however, --the most beautiful species of the mackerel tribe. 

"Albacore!" cried Ben Brace, as soon as he saw them shooting alongsidethe raft. "Albacore be they. Now, Snowy, out wi' your hooks an' lines. In this fresh breeze they be a'most sure to bite; and we'll be able, Ihope, to make up for the loss o' the others. Hush all o' ye! Ne'er aword; ne'er a movement to scare 'em off. Softly, Snowy! Softly, ye olesea-cook. "

"No fear, Massa Brace, --no fear o' dem leabin dis ole _Cat'maran_, solong's de be a-gwine on dat fashion. Looker dar! Fuss to one side, dende todder, --back and for'rad as ef de cudn't be content nowha. "

While Snowball was speaking, and before he had commenced, the albacoreshad entered upon a peculiar movement. On first joining company with the_Catamaran_, they swam for a time alongside, --the starboard side, --keeping pace with the raft, and evidently making no exertion to go aheadof her, as they might easily have done. On the contrary, they scarcemoved their fins; but floated slowly along at the exact rate of speed atwhich the craft was sailing, and not one bit faster. As they swamparallel to the raft, and also parallel to each other, one might havefancied them all joined together by some invisible link, that kept themfrom changing their relative positions both to the _Catamaran_ and toone another!

All at once, however, and quick as the change of a kaleidoscope, thisparallelism was terminated, --not as regarded each other, but withrespect to the course of the _Catamaran_ By a single flutter of theirtails, the whole _school_ was seen simultaneously turning head towardsthe craft; and then, like a flash of lightning, they passed underneath. 

For a moment they were out of sight; but in the next they appeared onthe starboard beam, swimming parallel as before, both to the course ofthe _Catamaran_ and to each other. The manoeuvre was executed with suchprecision and uniformity, as could not be imitated among men, --evenunder the tuition of the ablest drill-sergeant that ever existed. Theyswerved from right to left, as if each and all were actuated by the sameimpulse, and at the same instant of time. At the same instant theirtails made a movement in the water, --at precisely the same point of timethey turned together, --showing a list of its silvery abdomen, and withlike simultaneous action did they dive under the keel of the_Catamaran_. 

It was this peculiar manoeuvre on the part of the fish, --won afterrepeated by their shooting back to the starboard, and again returning tolarboard, --that had elicited from Snowball the assertion, so confidentlyput forward, that there was no fear of their leaving the _Catamaran_ solong as they were going in that fashion. 

Of those upon the raft, Ben Brace alone comprehended Snowball's meaning. To little William it was a matter of some surprise when the ex-sea-cookspoke so confidently, and acted, moreover, as if he had no fear offrightening the shy-looking creatures that were swimming alongside. 

"Why, Snowy?" asked the lad, --"why is there no fear of their beingscared off?"

"Kase, lilly Willy, I hab de idea dar be something else not far off, datdem albacore am more feerd on dan we. I no see dat someting yet. Wesure see de _long snout_, by 'm by. "

"The long snout!--what do you mean by that, Snowy?"

"Wha do a mean?--de long-nose a mean. Tole ye so! dar he be yonner, --right on de la'bord quarter. Dis nigger knew he no far off. Da's whyde beauties hab come roun de raff; an dat I hope keep um hyar till wehab cotch a few ob dem!"

"A shark!" cried the boy-sailor, catching a glance of some large fish atsome distance out in the water on the larboard bow, --the direction inwhich Snowball had pointed. 

"Shark! nuffin ob de kind, " rejoined the negro; "diff'rent sort ob fishaltogedder. If him wa shark, de albacore no stay hyar. Dey go up tohim, and dart all 'bout im, --jess like de lilly birds when dey see bighawk or de vulture. No shark he, --dat ere skulkin' fella. He am massalong-nose, --de real enemy ob de albacore. No fear ob dem leabin' us, while he anywhar in sight. "

Saying this the Coromantee proceeded to single out his hooks; and, assisted by Ben Brace, commenced baiting them with an unconcern thattestified a full confidence in the truth of his assertion. 

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE. 

THE SWORD-FISH. 

Little William, --whose curiosity had become excited at the appearance ofthe strange fish, --stood looking over the larboard quarter, in hopes ofgetting a better view of it. 

As yet, he had only obtained a slight glimpse of it: for the larboardquarter lay towards the south-west, and the sun, just then sinking downupon the sea, hindered him from having a fair opportunity to scan thesurface in that particular direction. 

Shading his eyes with the palm of his hand, he gazed for some time, butsaw nothing, --either upon the surface or under it. Snowball, notwithstanding that he seemed wholly occupied with the hooks and lines, took notice of the reconnoissance of the sailor-lad. 

"No use you look dat way, lilly Willy, " said he. "Doan you see dat deabbacores are now on de larbord side. Wheneber dey am on de larbord, you look for long-nose on de starbord. Truss dem take care dey no geton de same side wit' dat ere fella. "

"There, Will'm!" interposed Ben. "Look out that way! there he be, --right astarn, --don't ye see?"

"I see, I see!" cried William. "O, look, Lalee! What in odd fish itis! I never saw one like it before. "

This was true; for although the young sailer had already traversed manya long league of the Atlantic Ocean, he had not yet seen a fish of thesame kind; and he might traverse hundreds of long leagues of any of theoceans without seeing the like again. 

It was, in truth, one of the most singular denizens of the great deepthat had thus come under the observation of the _Catamaran's_ crew, --sopeculiar in its appearance that, without the intervention of Ben Brace, who at that moment called out in name, the boy could have pronounced itfor himself. 

It was a fish of some eight or ten feet in length; with a long bonysnout, projecting horizontally forward, at least one third of the lengthof its body. This snout was nothing more than a prolongation of theupper jaw, --perfectly straight, of osseous structure, and taperingtowards the end like the blade of a rapier. 

Otherwise the fish was not ill-formed; nor did it present that hideousaspect characteristic of the more predatory creatures that inhabit theocean. For all that, there was a certain shyness combined with greatswiftness in its motion, --a skulking in its attitudes: as Snowball'sspeech had already declared, --a truculent, trap-like expression in itsquick watchful eyes, that told of an animal whose whole existence waspassed in the pursuit of prey. 

It was not to be wondered at that William should have mistaken thecreature for a shark: for, in addition to the fact of the sun being inhis eyes, there were points of similarity between the fish in question, and certain species of sharks, requiring a good view and an experiencedobserver to tell the difference. William perceived a large crescentshaped fin rising several inches above the surface of the water, --a taillunated like that of the shark, --a hungry eye, and prowling attitude:the very characteristics of the dreaded tyrant of the deep. 

There was one thing in which the creature in question differedmaterially from all the individuals of the _squalus_ tribe. Instead ofswimming slowly, it appeared to be one of the swiftest of fishes: for ateach instant as the albacores changed their position from one side ofthe raft to the other, the long-snouted creature was seen to shoot tothe same side with a velocity that almost baffled the sight to keep pacewith it. 

In fact, the eye could scarcely have traced its course, had it not beenaided by two circumstances altogether strange and peculiar. The firstwas that the strange fish, while darting from point to point, caused arushing sound in the water; like that produced by heavy rain fallingupon the leaves of a forest. The second peculiarity was, that whilethus progressing its hues became completely changed. Instead of thedull brown, --its colour when at rest, --its body presented a striatedappearance, --a brindling of bright and dark blue, --sometimes heightenedto a uniform azure!

It was not these peculiarities that had guided little William to theidentification of the species; but the long, tapering snout, straight asa rapier, that projected in front of its body. This was a token not tobe mistaken, --never to be forgotten by one who had seen it before. Andthe young sailor had before seen such a one; not at sea, nor under thesea, but in a collection of "natural curiosities, " that had by chancebeen carried through his native town; and whose inspection, perhaps, hadmuch to do with that impulse that first caused him to "run away to sea. "Under a glass-case he had examined that piece of osseous structure, described by the showman as the sword of the _sword-fish_. Under thewaves of the tropical Atlantic, --but little less translucent than theglass, --he had no difficulty in identifying the formidable weapon!

CHAPTER FORTY SIX. 

THE SWORDSMAN OF THE SEA. 

While William was gazing upon the strange fish, it was seen all at onceto make a rush in the direction of the raft. They could hear a"swishing" sound, as its huge body passed through the water, at the sametime that its great scimitar-shaped dorsal fin, projecting above thesurface, rapidly traced a rippling line through the whole of its course. 

The dash was evidently directed against the shoal of albacore swimmingalongside the _Catamaran_. 

But these creatures were constantly on the alert. Although exhibitingevery symptom of fright, they did not seem for an instant to lose theirpresence of mind; and as the sword-fish was seen rushing towards them, all turned as if by a common impulse, and, quick as lightning, passed tothe other side of the raft. 

The sword-fish, seeing himself foiled, checked the velocity of hischarge with a suddenness that displayed his great natatory powers; and, instead of pursuing the albacores under the _Catamaran_, he continued tofollow after the craft, in a sort of skulking, cowardly fashion, --as ifhe designed to use stratagem rather than strength in the capture of hisprey. 

It soon became evident to little William that the albacores had soughtthe companionship of the _Catamaran_ less from the idea of obtaining anydroppings there might be from her decks, than as a protection againsttheir formidable pursuer, --the sword-fish. Indeed, this is mostprobably the reason why not only the albacores and their kindred thebonitos, but several other kinds of shoal-fish, attach themselves toships, whales, and other large objects, that they may encounter floatingor sailing upon the open ocean. 

The mode in which the sword-fish makes his attack, --by rushingirresistibly upon his prey, and impaling it on his long, slender beak, --is full of risk to himself; for should his "sword" come in contact withthe sides of a ship, or any substance of sufficient strength towithstand his impetuous "thrust, " the chances are that the weapon eithergets broken off altogether, or so embedded that the owner of it falls avictim to his rash voracity. 

Under the excitement of fear, and occupied in watching the movements oftheir enemy, Snowball knew there was no chance of the albacores payingany attention to the hooks he had baited for them. Instead, therefore, of throwing them over the side, he permitted them to lie upon theplanks, and waited until the sword-fish should either take his departureor fall far enough into the wake of the _Catamaran_ to permit, on thepart of the creatures swimming alongside, a temporary forgetfulness ofhis presence. 

"It am no use trowin' dem de hook, " said he, addressing himself to thesailor, "no use jess yet, so long de sharp snout am dar. We mus' waittill he go out ob dar sight an out ob dar hearin too. "

"I suppose we must, " rejoined Ben; "that be a pity too. They'd bitegreedy enough, if the ugly thing warn't there. That I know, for I'veseed 'em many's the time. "

This was not the only bit of information concerning the albacore andtheir enemy communicated by the sailor to his companions on the raft, but more especially to his _protege_, who, feeling a strange interest inthose creatures, had asked several questions concerning them. Duringthe interval, while they were waiting for some change in the tactics ofthe pursuer, --hoping that he might get ahead and abandon the pursuit, --Ben imparted to his audience several chapters of his experience, --inwhich either albacore or sword-fish, and sometimes both, had figured asthe principal actors. Among others, he related an anecdote of a ship inwhich he had sailed having been pierced by the beak of a sword-fish. 

At the time the incident occurred there was no one on board who had anysuspicion of its nature. The crew were below at their dinner; when oneof the sailors who chanced to be on deck heard a loud splashing in thewater. On looking over the ship's side, and seeing a large body justsinking below the surface, the sailor supposed it to be some one of thecrew who had gone over, and instantly raised the cry of "A manoverboard!"

The crew were paraded; when it was ascertained that no one was missing. Though the sailors were at a loss to account for the singularappearance, the alarm soon subsided; and nothing more was thought of thematter. Shortly after, one of the men, --Ben Brace himself, it was, --chanced to ascend the rigging; and while aloft he perceived a ruggedmass projecting from the side of the ship, just below the water line. On a boat being lowered and the thing examined, it proved to be the_rostrum_ of a sword-fish, broken off from the animal's head. It wasthe body of the animal, --no doubt, killed by the concussion, --which thesailor had seen sinking in the water. 

The "sword" had pierced completely through the copper sheathing andsolid timbers of the larboard bow of the ship; and on the sailors goingbelow, they found eight or ten inches of its top projecting into theinside, embedded among some coals contained in the hold!

Singular as the sailor's story might appear, it was not in the least anexaggeration. Snowball knew it was not: for the ex-sea-cook could havetold of like experiences; and William was also satisfied of its truth, from having read the account of a similar incident, and heard that theevidences of it, --that is, a piece of the solid wood of the ship'stimbers, with the sword imbedded in it, --were to be seen at any time inthe British Museum. 

Just as Ben had finished his curious relation, a movement upon the partof the pursuer told an intention of changing his tactics, --not as if hewas about to retreat, but rather to assume a bolder attitude of offence. The sight of such a fine shoal of fat albacores, --so near and yet solong keeping clear of his attack, appeared to have tantalised him to apoint beyond endurance; and, being extra hungry, perhaps he wasdetermined to dine upon them, _coute qui coute_. 

With this intent he drew nearer to the _Catamaran_ swooping from quarterto quarter, then along the sides, and once or twice darting ahead, so asto create in the shoal a degree of excitement that might force them intoirregularity of action. 

This very effect he at length succeeded in producing; for the prettycreatures became more frightened than ever; and instead of swimming, ashitherto, in concert, and parallel to each other as they had been doing, they got huddled into a crowd, and commenced darting, pell-mell, inevery direction. 

In the midst of their confusion a large band became separated, --not onlyfrom the others, but from the _Catamaran_, --and fell several fathoms'length into the wake of the craft. 

Upon these the hungry eyes of the prowling monster were now fixed; butonly for a moment: for in the next he was charging down among them witha velocity that caused the water to spray upwards against his dorsalfin, while the rushing sound made by his body could be heard afar offover the ocean, "Look, Will'm!" cried Ben, anxious that his _protege_should not miss seeing the curious spectacle. "Look, lad! yonder's asight worth seein'. Shiver my timbers, if he han't got a brace o' 'emon his toastin' fork!"

While Ben was speaking, the sword-fish had charged into the middle ofthe frightened flock. There was a momentary plashing, --as several ofthe albacores leaped up out of the water and fell back again, --there wasa surging and bubbling over a few yards of surface, which hindered aclearer view of what was passing; and then outside reappeared thesword-fish, with his long weapon projected above the water, and a braceof the beautiful albacores impaled upon its point!

The wretched creatures were struggling to free themselves from theirpainful position; but their struggles were not for long. They wereterminated almost on the instant, --by the sword-fish giving a quick jerkof his head, and tossing, first one and then the other of his victimshigh into the air!

As they came down again, it was to fall, not upon the water, but intothe throat of the voracious tyrant; who, although toothless and withoutany means of masticating, made shorter work of it by introducing them_untoothed_, and at a single gulp, into his capacious maw!

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN. 

ANGLING FOR ALBACORE. 

After a while the crew of the _Catamaran_ watched the manoeuvres of thesword-fish with a degree of interest that almost caused them to forgettheir own forlorn situation. Little William and Lilly Lalee wereespecially delighted with the singular spectacle; and long after thesailor and Snowball had turned their attention to other and morenecessary matters, the two stood side by side gazing out upon the oceanin the direction in which the sea-swordsman had been seen. 

We say _had been_ seen: for, after swallowing the brace of albacores, the voracious monster had suddenly disappeared, either by diving deepdown into the sea, or shooting off to some distant point. 

Little William and Lalee looked everywhere, --first astern, where theswordsman had made the display of his skill; then on both sides; and, finally, ahead. They looked in these different directions, --because, from what they had already seen of its natative powers, they knew thatthe great fish could pass in a few seconds through a hundred fathoms ofwater, and therefore was as likely to be on one side as the other. 

On no side, however, could the fish be seen; and, although both thesailor-lad and Lalee would have been pleased to witness a little more ofthat same sword exercise, they were at length forced to the conclusionthat the performance was over and the performer gone away, --perhaps, toexhibit his prowess in some other quarter of the aquatic world. 

"Berry like, --berry like he gone way, " said Snowball, in reply to theinterrogatory of little William. "A good ting if dat am de fack; fo'den we hab chance to hook up some o' dese hya abbacore. See dem now!Doan' you see how berry different dey are behavin'. Dey no longer'feerd. Dat am sign dat de long snout hab turn him nose in some oderdirecshun. He gone fo' sartin. "

Sure enough the _behaviour_ of the albacores was very much altered, asSnowball had affirmed. Instead of flashing about from one side of theraft to the other, and exhibiting manifest symptoms of alarm, they nowswam placidly alongside, at a regular rate of speed, just keeping upwith the _Catamaran_. 

They looked, moreover, as if they would now take the bait, which duringthe presence of the sword-fish they had obstinately refused to touch, though frequently flung, both by Snowball and the sailor, right undertheir snouts. 

Both were again preparing to repeat their angling operations; and in afew seconds' time each had his hook ready, with a piece of shark-meattemptingly attached to it, the bait being rendered still more attractivefrom having a little shred of scarlet flannel looped around the shank ofthe hook, while several fathoms of stout sennit-cord served astrolling-lines. 

Plash into the water went the two baited hooks, both at once; and, almost before the ripples caused by the plunge had ceased to circle uponthe surface, a still louder plashing could be heard, and a much rougherripple seen, --in short, a large space of the surface agitated into foam, where a brace of albacores were fluking and struggling on the respectivehooks of Snowball and the sailor. 

Right rapidly were they hauled aboard, and their struggles brought to atermination by a smart tap on the head administered to each insuccession, by a handspike, which had suddenly found its way into thegrasp of the sailor. 

No time was thrown away in contemplating the captives, or triumphingover their capture. Little William and Lalee alone examined the twobeautiful creatures thus brought within their reach; while Snowball andthe sailor, rapidly readjusting the baits upon their hooks, that hadbeen slightly disarranged by the teeth of the _tunnies_, --for thealbacore is a species of tunny fish, --once more flung them forth. 

This time the baits were not so greedily "grabbed" at. As if the"school" had become suspicious, they all for a considerable time foughtshy of it; but, as it was trolled so temptingly under their very snouts, first one and then another began to make approach, --now nearer andnearer, one or two taking a nibble at it, and then dropping it again, and suddenly shying off, --as if they had discovered something unpleasanteither in its taste or touch. 

This delicate nibbling continued for several minutes when, at length, analbacore more courageous than its companions, or perhaps with an emptierstomach than the rest, at sight of the tempting morsel suddenly tookleave of his discretion; and, darting forward, seized the bait uponBen's hook, swallowing bait, hook, and several inches of thesennit-cord, at a single gulp!

There was no danger of its being able to detach itself from that hook. The barb was already fast in its entrails before Ben gave the jerk tosecure it. Another jerk brought the fish out of its native element, landing it amidships on board the _Catamaran_, where, like its twopredecessors, it was instantly knocked on the head. 

Snowball continued to "troll" his line in the most approved fashion; andwas soon again joined by his brother "piscator, " who, after settling thescores with the second fish he had caught, had adjusted a fresh bait, and once more flung his line into the water. 

For some reason or other, the albacores became suddenly shy, --not as ifalarmed at the action of the anglers, but rather from having theirattention attracted to some other object invisible to the eyes of thoseon the _Catamaran_. The fish were so near the raft, that every movementmade by them could be easily observed, --even to the glancing of theirsilvery irides, --and those who observed them could see that they werelooking aloft. 

Up went the eyes of the _Catamarans_, both anglers and idlers turningtheir glances towards the sky. There was nothing to be seen there, --atleast, nothing to account for the shyness of the fish, or the upwardcast of their eyeballs. So thought three of the party, --little William, Lalee, and the sailor, --who beheld only the blue, cloudless canopy ofthe heavens. 

Snowball, however, whose single experience of ocean-life was greaterthan the sum total of the other three twice told, did not, like therest, desist all at once from his scrutiny of the sky, but remainedgazing with upturned look for period of several minutes. 

At the termination of that time, an exclamatory phrase, escaping fromhis lips, proclaimed the discovery of some object that, to his mind, accounted for the odd behaviour of the albacores. 

"De frigate-bird!" was the phrase that came mutteringly from betweenSnowball's teeth. "Ya, ya, --dar am two ob dem, --de cock an' hen, Is'pose. Dat 'counts for de scariness of dese hya fish. Dat's what amdoin' it. "

"O, a frigate-bird!" said Ben Brace, recognising in Snowball's synonymeone of the most noted wanderers of the ocean, --the _Pelicanus aquila_ ofthe naturalists, but which, from its swift flight and graceful form, isbetter known to mariners under the appellation given to it by Snowball. 

"Where away?" interrogated the sailor. "I don't see bird o' any sort. Where away, Snowy?"

"Up yonner, --nearly straight ober head, --close by dat lilly 'peck obcloud. Dar dey be, one on de one side, odder on fodder, --de ole cockan' de ole hen, I'se be boun!"

"Your daylights be uncommon clear, nigger. I don't see ne'er a bird--Ah, now I do!--two of 'em, as you say. Ye're right, Snowy. Them befrigates to a sartainty. It's easy to tell the cut o' thar wings fromany other bird as flops over the sea. Beside, there be no other I knowson as goes up to that height. Considerin' that thar wings be spreadnigh a dozen feet, if not all o' that, and that they don't look biggerthan barn-swallows, I reckon they must be mor'n a mile overhead o' us. Don't you think so, Snowy?"

"Mile, Massa Brace! Ya, dey am two mile 'bove us at de berry lees. Deydoan' 'peer to move an inch from dat same spot. Dar be no doubt datboaf o' 'em am sound 'sleep. "

"Asleep!" echoed little William, in a tone that betokened a largemeasure of astonishment. "You don't say, Snowball, that a bird can goto sleep upon the wing?"

"Whoo! lilly Willy, dat all you know 'bout de birds in dis hya part obdo worl'? Sleep on de wing! Sartin dey go 'sleep on de wing, an' sometime wif de wing fold close to dar body, an' de head tuck under 'im, --don't dey, Mass' Brace?"

"I ain't sartin as to that, " doubtingly answered theex-man-o'-war's-man. "I've heerd so: but it _do_ seem sort o'unnat'ral. "

"Whoo!" rejoined Snowball, with a slightly derisive inclination of thehead; "why for no seem nat'ral? De frigate hersef she sleep on de waterwidout sails set, --not eben a stitch ob her canvas. Well, den: why nodem frigate-birds in de air? What de water am to de ship de air am tode birds. What hinder 'em to take dar nap up yonner, 'ceptin' whendar's a gale ob wind? Ob coos dat u'd interrup' dar repose. "

"Well, nigger, " rejoined the sailor, in a tone that betokened no veryzealous partisanship for either side of the theory, "you may be right, or you may be wrong. I ar'n't goin' to gi'e you the lie, one way or t'other. All I know is, that I've seed frigates a-standing in the air, asthem be now, making way neyther to windart or leuart; f'r all that Ididn't believe they was asleep. I kud see thar forked tails openin' andclosin' jist like the blades o' a pair o' shears; and that inclined meto think they war wide awake all the time. If they was asleep, how kudthey a-kep waggin' thar tails? Though a bird's tail be but feathers, still it must ha' some feelin' in it. "

"Law, Massa Ben!" retorted the negro, in a still more patronising tone, as if pitying the poverty of the sailor's syllogism, "you no tink itpossible that one move in dar sleep? You nebber move you big toe, oryou foot, or some time de whole ob you leg? Beside, " continued thelogician, passing to a fresh point of his argument, "how you s'pose defrigate-bird do 'idout sleep? You know berry well he not got de powerto swim, --him feet only half web. He no more sit on de water dan aguinea-fowl, or a ole hen ob de dunghill. As for him go 'sleep on desea, it no more possyble dan for you or me, Massa Ben. "

"Well, Snowy, " slowly responded the sailor, rather pushed for a reply, "I'm willin' to acknowledge all that. It look like the truth, an' itdon't, --both at the same time. I can't understan' how a bird can go tosleep up in the air, no more'n I could hang my old tarpaulin' hat on thecorner o' a cloud. Same time I acknowledge that I'm puzzled to make outhow them thar frigates can take thar rest. The only explanation I canthink o' is, that every night they fly back to the shore, an' turns inthar. "

"Whoogh! Massa Brace, you knows better dan dat. I'se heerd say dat defrigate-bird nebber am seed more'n a hunder league from de shore. Dam!Dis nigga hab seed dat same ole cock five time dat distance from land, --in de middle ob de wide Atlantic, whar we sees 'um now. Wish it wastrue he nebber 'tray more dan hunder knots from de land; we might habsome chance reach it den. Hunder league! Golly! more'n twice datlength we am from land; and dere 's dem long-wing birds hov'rin' 'boveour heads, an sleepin' as tranquil as ebber dis nigga did in de cabooseob de ole _Pandora_. "

Ben made no reply. Whether the reasoning of the Coromantee was corrector only sophistical, the facts were the same. Two forms were in thesky, outlined against the back ground of cerulean blue. Though distant, and apparently motionless, they were easily distinguishable as livingthings, --as birds, --and of a kind so peculiar, that the eye of the rudeAfrican, and even that of the almost equally rude Saxon, coulddistinguish the species. 

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. 

THE FRIGATE-BIRD. 

The frigate-bird (_Pelicanus aquila_), which had thus become the subjectof conversation on board the _Catamaran_, is in many respects verydifferent from other ocean-birds. Although generally classed with thepelicans, it bears but a very slight resemblance to any species of thesemisshapen, unwieldy, goose-like creatures. 

It differs from most other birds frequenting the sea in the fact of itsfeet being but slightly webbed, and its claws being _talons_, like thoseof hawks or eagles. 

Otherwise, also, does it resemble these last birds, --so much that thesailors, noting the resemblance, indifferently call it "sea-hawk, ""man-of-war hawk, " and "man-of-war eagle. " The last appellation, however, is sometimes given to the great wandering albatross (_Diomedeaexulans_). 

The male frigate-bird is jet black all over the body; having a red bill, very long, vertically flattened, and with the mandibles abruptly hookeddownwards at the point. The female differs in colour: being sooty blackabove, and having a large white disc on the abdomen. 

The legs are short in proportion to the bulk of the bird; the toes, asalready stated, being furnished with talons, --the middle one scaly, andnotched underneath; while the legs are feathered to the feet, showinganother point of affinity with predatory birds of the land. Stillanother may be pointed out: in the innermost toe or _pollex_, beingturned outwards, as if intended for perching, --which the frigate-birdactually does when it visits the shore, often making its nest upontrees, and roosting among the branches. 

In fact, this creature may be regarded as a sort of connecting linkbetween the birds of prey who make their home on the dry land, and theweb-footed birds that equally lead a predatory life upon the sea. Perhaps it continues the chain begun by the ospreys and sea-eagles, whotake most of their food out of the water, but do not stray far from theshore in search of it. 

The frigate-bird, a true sea-hawk, --sea-eagle, it may be called, sinceits bold, noble qualities entitle it to the name, --makes its excursionsso far from the shore that it is not unfrequently seen in the verymiddle of the Atlantic. Now, this is the most curious circumstance inits history, and one that has hitherto perplexed ornithologists. Sinceits feet are not provided with the "web, " it cannot swim a stroke; norhas it ever been seen to alight on the water for the purpose of takingrest. It is not likely that it can settle on the wave, --theconformation of its feet and body making this an impossibility. 

How, then, does it find rest for its tired wings? This is the questionto which an answer is not easily given. 

There is a belief, as Ben alleged, that it returns every night to roostupon the land; but when it is considered that to reach its roost wouldoften require a flight of a thousand miles, --to say nothing of thereturn journey to its fishing-ground, --the statement at once loses all_vrai-semblance_, Many sailors say that it goes to sleep suspended aloftin the air, and so high up as to be sometimes invisible. This was thebelief of Snowball. 

Now, this belief, or conjecture, or whatever you may--term it, on thepart of Jack tar, though sneered at as impossible, and even scoffed atas ridiculous, may, after all, not be so very far beyond the truth. Jack has told some rare tales in his time, --"yarns" that appear to be"spun" out of his fancy, quite as much as this one, --which, after havingrun the gauntlet of philosophic ridicule on the part of closetnaturalists, have in the long run turned out to be true! Has not hisstory of the "King of the Cannibal Islands, "--Hokee-pokee-winkee-wum, with his fifty wives as black as "sut, " and all his belongings, just asJack described them, --actually "turned up" in reality, in the person ofThakombau and a long line of similar monsters inhabiting the FijiIslands?

Why, then, may not his statements, about the frigate-bird going to sleepupon the wing be a correct conjecture, or observation, instead of a"sailor's yarn, "--as sage and conceited, but often mistaken, professorsof "physical science" would have us regard it?

Such professors as are at this moment, in almost every newspaper in thecountry, --scientific journals among the number, --abusing and ridiculingthe poor farmer for destroying the birds that destroy his grain; andtelling him, if he were to let the birds alone, they would eat theinsects that commit far greater devastation on his precious _cerealia_!Conceited theorists! it has never occurred to them, that the victims ofthe farmer's fowling-piece--_the birds that eat corn--would not touch aninsect if they were starving_! The farmer does not make war on theinsect-eating birds. Rarely, or never, does he expend powder and shoton the swallow, the wagtail, the tomtit, the starling, the thrush, theblackbird, the wren, the robin, or any of the grub and fly-feeders. His"game" are the buntings and _Fringillidae_, --the larks, linnets, finches, barley-birds, yellowhammers, and house sparrows, that form thegreat flocks afflicting him both in seed-time and harvest; and none ofwhich (excepting, perhaps, the last-mentioned gentry, who are at timesslightly inclined towards a wormy diet) would touch an insect, even withthe tips of their bills. Ha! ye scribblers of closet conceits! you havebeen sneering at "Chaw-bacon" long enough. He may turn and scoff atyou; for, in very truth, the boot (of ignorance) is upon the other leg!

Let us make sure then, lest Jack's theory regarding the lumbers of thesea-hawk be not mythical in the mirror of our own incredulity. 

That the bird can take rest in the air is perfectly certain. It may beseen--as the crew of the _Catamaran_ saw it--suspended on outspreadwing, without any perceptible motion except in its tail; the long, forked feathers of which could be observed opening and closing atintervals; according to the sailor's simile, like the blades of a pairof scissors. But this motion might be merely muscular, and compatiblewith a state of slumber or unconscious repose. At all events, the birdhas been seen to keep its place in the air for many minutes at a time, with no other motion observable than that of the long andgracefully-forking feathers of its tail. 

A fish sleeps suspended in the water without any apparent effort. Whynot certain birds in the air, whose body is many times lighter than thatof a fish, and whose skeleton is constructed with air vessels to buoythem up into the azure fields of the sky? The sea-hawk may seldomrequire what is ordinarily termed rest. Its smooth, graceful flightupon wings, which, though slender, are of immense length, --often oftenfeet spread, --shows that it is, perhaps, as much at ease in the air asif perched upon the bough of a tree; and it is certain that its clawsnever clasp branch, nor do its feet find rest on any other object, forweeks and months together. 

It is true that while fishing near the shore it usually retires to roostat night; but afar over the ocean it keeps all night upon the wing. Itdoes not, like many other ocean-birds, --as the booby, one of its owngenus, --seek rest upon the spars of ships, though it often hovers abovethe mastheads of sailing vessels, as if taking delight in thissituation, and not unfrequently seizes in its beak, and tearing away thepieces of coloured cloth fixed upon the vane. 

A curious anecdote is told of a frigate-bird taken while thusoccupied, --its captor being a man who had swarmed up to the masthead andseized it in his hand. As this individual chanced to be a landsman, serving temporarily on board the ship, and being remarkably tall andslender, the crew of the vessel would never have it otherwise, than thatthe bird, accustomed only to the figure of a sailor, had mistaken itscaptor for a spare spar, and thus fallen a victim to its want ofdiscernment!

Strictly speaking, the frigate-bird does not _fish_, like otherpredatory birds of the ocean. As it cannot either dive or swim, ofcourse it cannot take fish out of the water. How, then, does it exist?Where finds it the food necessary to sustain existence? In a word, itcaptures its prey in the air; and this commonly consists in the variousspecies of flying-fish, and also the _loligo_, or "flying squids. " Whenthese are forced out of their own proper element to seek safety in theair, the frigate-bird, ready to pounce down from aloft, clutches thembefore they can get back into the equally unsafe element out of whichthey have sprung. 

Besides the flying-fish, it preys upon those that have the habit ofleaping above the surface, and also others that have been alreadycaptured by boobies, terns, gulls, and tropic birds, all of which canboth swim and dive. 

These the frigate-bird remorselessly robs of their legitimate prize, --first compelling them to relinquish it in the air, and then adroitlyseizing it before it gets back to the water. 

The storm is the season of plenty to this singular bird of prey; as thenit can capture many kinds of fish upon the surface of the waves. It isduring those times when the sea is tranquil or perfectly calm, that itresorts to the other method, --of forcing the fishing-birds to yield uptheir prey, often even to disgorge, after having swallowed it!

Its wondrous powers of flight not only enable it to seize with certaintythe morsel thus rejected, but so confident is it of its ability in theperformance of this feat, that, if a fish chance to be awkwardly caughtin its beak, it will fearlessly fling it into the air, and, dartingafter, grasp it again and again, until it gets the mouthful in aconvenient position for being gulped down its own greedy throat. 

CHAPTER FORTY NINE. 

BETWEEN TWO TYRANTS. 

The two birds which had attracted the attention of the _Catamaran's_crew were seen suddenly to abandon their fixed poise in the air, andcommence wheeling in circles, or rather in spiral lines that graduallydescended towards the surface of the sea. 

In a short while they were so low that the scarlet pouch under thethroat of the male was easily recognisable, swollen out like a goitre;while the elegant conformation of the birds, with their long, scimitar-shaped wings, and slender forked tails, was sharply definedagainst the blue background of the sky. 

The albacores no longer took any notice of the baited hooks; but, instead, commenced darting through the water in various directions, until they had got scattered about over the sea. 

Was it fear of the predatory birds hovering above that was producingthis change in their tactics?

It could not be that. They did not appear to be acting under any alarm;but rather as if prowling in search of something not yet visible eitherto them or to those who were watching them from the deck of the_Catamaran_. 

Ben Brace and Snowball knew the fish were not frightened by the presenceof the birds; but William, whose experience of sea-life was morelimited, --although the albacores did not look alarmed, --thought, doubtingly, that they were so. 

"Surely, " said he, appealing to his older companions, "such big fishneedn't be scared of them?"

As he put the interrogatory, he pointed upward to the two birds, nowwithin a hundred fathoms of the surface. "Surely they can't kill analbacore? If they did, they could never swallow it, I should think?"

"'T ain't the albacore they be after, " replied Ben Brace, "nor be thealbacore afeerd o' them, --not a bit. There be another sort o' fishesnot far away, though we can't see 'em. No more do these sky-blue chapsas be swimming around us. They be now lookin' for 'em, --mighty sharp, as ye see; an' they'll be sartin to scare 'em up in three shakes o' ashark's tail. "

"What other sort of fish?" inquired William. 

"Flyin'-fish, lad; same's you an' I made our first meal on, when we wurwellnigh starvin'. There's a school not far off. The frigates hasspied 'em from aloft, an' that's what's brought them hoverin' over. They've seed the albacores too; and as they know that these preys on theflyin'-fish, they've come down to be nearer thar game. Unless thealbacores get thar eyes on the winged fish, and run down among 'em, there'll be no chance for the frigates. They can do nothin' till t'other jumps 'em out o' the water. The sky-blues don't seem to see 'emyet; but I dare say it'll not be long afore they do, judgin' by theirmanoeuvres. Thar! Didn't I tell thee, lad? See yonder! They be offafter something. "

As the sailor spoke, several of the albacores were seen suddenly headingin a direction parallel to the course of the _Catamaran_ and passingrapidly through the transparent water. 

In an instant after, several white objects were seen springing up beforethem, which, after glancing for a moment in the air, plunged back againinto the water. 

Not any of the _Catamaran's_ crew were ignorant of the character ofthese objects. The silvery sheen of translucent wings, as theyglittered under the bright sunbeams, proclaimed the creatures to be a"flock" of flying-fish, of which the albacores--of all their manyenemies the most dangerous--were now in pursuit. 

There may have been several of the flying-fish that did not rise intothe air, but fell a prey to their pursuers under the water; and of thosethat did succeed in springing above the surface there were two thatnever came down again, --at least not in the shape of flying-fish. 

The sea-hawks, wheeling above both pursuers and pursued, had beenwatching their opportunity; and as the pretty creatures made theirappearance above water, both the birds swooped straight down among theprinkling cohort, each selecting a victim. Both made a successfulswoop; for they were observed to turn and fly with a slant upwards, eachwith a flying-fish in its beak. 

One of them, the male bird, didn't appear to be satisfied with the holdhe had taken; for, with a sudden jerk of his head, he let go again, pitched the prey several feet upward, and again as it came down took afresh "grip" upon it. 

No doubt this was to his satisfaction, for almost in the same instantthat the flying-fish returned within the mandibles of his beak itdisappeared, wings and all, down that dark passage, where, no doubt, many another of its kind had preceded it. 

It was evident that neither of the birds considered one flying-fishsufficient for a meal; for as soon as they had swallowed those alreadytaken, they again placed themselves in position for shooting down upon asecond victim. 

And now the crew of the _Catamaran_ had the fortune to witness one ofthose singular incidents that may sometimes be seen upon the ocean, --alittle drama of Nature, in which three of her creatures, --all threediffering in kind, --formed the _dramatis persona_. 

The cock frigate-bird, on turning to look for a fresh victim, espiedone, or that which was likely to become one, almost directly beneathhim. 

It was a single flying-fish, which by some chance, --perhaps from notbeing either so fast a swimmer or so swift upon the wing as itsfellows, --had lagged behind the "school. "

It was no longer playing laggard, and for a very good reason: since analbacore, nearly full three feet in length, was swimming after it anddoing his very best to overtake it. Both were exerting every bit ofmuscular strength that lay in their fins, --the former to make itsescape, the latter to prevent this consummation. 

It was evident, however, to those on board the _Catamaran_, that thepursuer was gaining upon the pursued; and this at length became alsoevident to the flying-fish. The tiny creature, as it cut through theclear water, could be seen quivering with fear; and the spectatorslooked to see it shoot upward into the air, and thus disappoint thegreedy tyrant at its tail. 

No doubt this would have been the very course of conduct for theflying-fish to have pursued; and no doubt it was on the eve of adoptingit, when, all at once, the long, shadowy wings and outstretched neck ofthe frigate-bird were seen outlined above. 

The sight was sufficient to keep the fish under water a while longer, but only a very little while. Above were that ugly red pouch andcraning neck; below, those hideous jaws, ready to open and engulf it. 

There seemed no chance of escape. It was only a question of choice asto the mode of death: whether it would prefer to become food for a fish, or be devoured by a bird. 

As, in itself, it partook a little of the nature of, or, at all events, of the habits of both, there was not much to choose between them; butwhether it did not desire to deliver itself over to the enemy most liketo itself, or whether it was that the latter was now so near as to bealmost certain of seizing it, it declared its preference for the bird bymaking a sudden spring which carried it clear out of the water, and intothe air. 

The sea-hawk hovering above in eager expectation lost no time in makingthe attempt to secure it; but whether he was too sure of his prize, orfrom some other unexplained reason, certain it is that he gave apractical illustration of the old and well-known adage about the cup andthe lip, by failing to clutch the prey. 

He was seen darting towards it with open beak, --his talons cruellyextended for its capture; but, notwithstanding all his activity, thewhite object that shot glittering past him, and dropped into the sea farbeyond, proclaimed to the Catamarans that the _Exocetus_ had escaped. 

CHAPTER FIFTY. 

SNOWBALL MAKING A SOMERSAULT. 

And now all eyes were turned towards the sea-hawk, and became fixed uponhim with glances that expressed surprise; for, instead of again soaringupward, and renewing his pursuit either of the creature that he had soclumsily permitted to escape him, or some other of its kind, the birdwas seen to stay down upon the surface of the sea, --his wings spread totheir full extent, and flapping the water with such violence as to raisethe spray in a thick cloud over and around him!

He was heard, too, giving utterance to loud and repeated screams, --notin the tone of a conqueror; but as if he was in danger of beingvanquished, or had already become the victim of some ocean tyrantstronger than himself!

For some seconds this inexplicable movement, --a struggle it seemed, --continued; not in one place, but over a space of many square yards ofsurface, --which appeared to be also agitated by the exertions of somecreature underneath; the bird all the while repeating its cries, andbeating the water into froth, like a huge pelican at play!

The crew of the _Catamaran_, utterly unable to account for this strangeconduct on the part of the old cock, stood upon the deck of their craft, looking on with feelings of intense astonishment. 

Even Snowball, who thought himself _au fait_ to every incident ofocean-life, was surprised and puzzled equally with the rest. 

"What be the matter wi' the creetur, Snowy?" inquired Ben, thinkingSnowball could explain its odd behaviour. "The frigate 'pears to ha'got on its beam-end; shiver my timbers if 't ain't goin' to founder!"

"Shibber ma timber, too, " rejoined Snowball, rudely pirating thesailor's favourite shibboleth; "shibber 'um, if dis nigga know what amde matter. Golly! someting got de ole hawk by de legs, --dat seemsartin. Maybe 'um be shark, maybe 'um be long-nose--de--"

Snowball was going to say "sword-fish, " had he been permitted to finishhis speech. But he was not; for while in the act of its delivery, withthe whites of his eyes rolling in conjectural wonder, something frombelow struck the plank, upon which he was standing, and with such ashock that the piece of timber was started from its fastenings, andimpelled suddenly upwards, --not only knocking the ex-sea-cook out of hisperpendicular position, but pitching him, as from a catapult, clearacross the _Catamaran_, and into the sea on the opposite side!

This was not all. The plank from which Snowball had been projectedinstantly fell back into its place, --in consequence of its being one ofthe heaviest pieces of timber in the raft, --but instead of remainingthere, it was again seen to shoot upward, then fall back upon the water, as if dragged down by a powerful but invisible hand, --the hand of somesea-god or demon, --perhaps of Neptune himself!

Not only the plank, but the whole raft moved under this inexplicableimpulsion, --which had communicated to it a rocking motion, not from sideto side, but upwards and downwards! So quick and violent was thismysterious oscillation, that it was with difficulty the threeindividuals who still occupied the decks of the craft could keep eithertheir balance or their feet. 

Along with the motion of the raft there was a corresponding commotion inthe water, --accompanied by a loud splashing noise that seemed to proceedfrom under the timbers, on which, like so many acrobats, they wereendeavouring to balance themselves; and in a few seconds after they hadfelt the great shock, the sea all around exhibited a surface of highwaves crested with foam!

Snowball, who had risen to the surface after the somersault that hadplunged him deep down into the sea, perceiving that the raft stillcontinued to heave upward and downward, made no attempt to get on board;but swimming alongside, sputtered forth his terrified ejaculations. Even the brave man-o'-war's-man, who had faced death in a thousandshapes, was, at that moment, the victim of fear. 

How could it be otherwise? He could think of nothing in nature capableof causing that mysterious commotion and who, without trembling, couldwithstand the assaults of the supernatural?

"Shiver my timbers!" cried Ben, himself shivering as he spoke the words, "what in old Nick's name has got under us? Be it a whale that's bumpin'its back against the rail? Or--"

Before he could pronounce the second interrogatory, a loud crash soundedin the ears of all, --as if the plank heaving so mysteriously had beensuddenly torn in twain!

This sound, whatever had caused it, seemed to proclaim the climax of thecommotion: for immediately after the _Catamaran_ began to composeherself, the waves caused by her continued rocking gradually grew less, until at length, once more "righted, " she lay in her customary positionupon the tranquil surface of the sea. 

CHAPTER FIFTY ONE. 

A THRUST THROUGH AND THROUGH. 

As soon as the _Catamaran_ had fairly recovered her equilibrium, Snowball condescended to climb aboard. The ludicrous appearance of thenegro, as he stood dripping upon the deck, might have excited laughter;but neither Ben Brace, nor his acolyte, nor the little Lalee, were in amood for mirth. On the contrary, the curious incident that had justoccurred was yet unexplained; and the awe with which it had inspiredthem still continued to hold all three in a sort of speechless control. Snowball himself was the first to break silence. 

"Good Gorramity!" he exclaimed, his teeth chattering like castanets, asthe words passed between them. "Wha's all de rumpus 'bout? Wha youtink, Massa Ben? Wha make dat dratted fuss under de raff? De water beplash bout so I've see nuffin, 'cepting a big black heap o' someting. Golly! I b'lieve it war de _jumbe_, --de debbil!"

The terrified looks of the speaker, while giving utterance to thesewords, --especially when pronouncing the dreaded name of the _jumbe_--told that he was serious in what he said; and that he actually believedthe devil to have been the agent who had been causing the mysteriouscommotion!

The English sailor, though not entirely free from a certain tinge ofsuperstition, did not share Snowball's belief. Though unable, by anyexperience he had ever gone through, to account for the odd incident, still he could not ascribe it to supernatural agency. The blow whichstarted the plank on which Snowball had been standing had communicated ashock to the whole structure. It might have been given by some hugefish, or other monster of the deep; and though unaccountable andunexpected, might, nevertheless, be quite natural. It was the shakingwhich the _Catamaran_ kept up afterwards, --almost to the spilling of thewhole crew into the water, --that most perplexed the oldman-o'-war's-man. He could not imagine why a fish, or any othercreature, having butted its head once against the "keel" of the craft, would not instantly desist from such an idle encounter, and make off asfast as fins could carry it. 

Ben's first impression was, that a whale had by chance risen under theraft; as he had known them to do against the sides of ships. But thenthe persistence of the creature, whatever it was, in its odd attack, argued something more than accident. On the other hand, if the attackwas designed, and had been made by a whale, of whatever species, thesailor knew that it would not have left off after merely shaking theraft. A whale, with a single flirt of his tail, would have sent thewhole structure flying into the air, sunk it down into the deep, orscattered it in fifty fragments over the surface of the water. 

One of these things a whale would undoubtedly have done. So believedBen Brace; and therefore the creature that had come so near capsizingthem could not be a whale. What was it, then? A shark? No. It couldnot be a shark. Though there are two or three species of thesemonsters, quite as large as good-sized whales, the sailor never knew oftheir assaulting anything after that fashion. 

As they stood speculating on the cause of their curious adventure, ashout from Snowball announced that the ex-cook had at length discoveredthe explanation. 

Snowball's first thought, after having partially recovered from hisfright, was to examine the plank from which, like an acrobat from hisspring-board, he had made that involuntary somersault. 

There, just by the spot on which he had been standing, appeared anobject that explained everything: a sharp, bony, proboscis-likeimplement, standing up a full foot's length out of the timber, slightlyobliqued from the perpendicular, and as firmly imbedded in the wood asif it had been driven in by the blows of a blacksmith's hammer!

That it had penetrated the plank from underneath could be easily seen, by the ragged edge, and split pieces around the orifice where it cameout. 

But the negro did not stay to draw deductions of this nature. Oncatching sight of the object, --which he knew had not been therebefore, --his terror at once came to an end; and a long cachinnation, intended for a peal of laughter, announced that "Snowball was himselfagain. "

"Golly!" he exclaimed. "Look dar, Massa Brace. Look at de ting dat habgub us sich a frightnin. Whuch! Who'd a beliebed dat de long-nose hadgot so much 'trength in im ugly body? Whuch!"

"A sword-fish!" cried Ben. The rostrum of one of these singularcreatures was the sharp bone protruding above the plank. "You're right, Snowy, it be a sword-fish, and nothing else. "

"Only de snout o' one, " jocularly rejoined the negro. "De karkiss ob deanymal an't dar any more. Dat was de black body I seed under de raff;but he an't dar now. He hab broke off him long perbossus; and no doubtdat hab killed him. He gone dead, and to de bottom, boaf at de sametime. "

"Yes, " assented the sailor. "It must have broke off while he wasstruggling to get clear, I heerd the crash o't, like the partin' o' aspar; and just after, the raft stopped shakin', an' began to settle downagain. Lor ha mercy on us! what a thrust he have made! That plank befive inches thick, at the very least, an' you see he's stuck his snoutthrough it more'n a foot! Lor 'a mercy on us! What wonderful queerycreeturs the ocean do contain!"

And with this philosophic reflection, from the lips of theman-o'-war's-man, ended the adventure. 

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO. 

AN AWKWARD GRIP. 

To the two oldest of the _Catamaran's_ crew the curious circumstances ofthe sword-fish thrusting his rostrum through the raft, and snapping itasunder, needed no explanation. Both knew that it was not with anintention of attacking the _Catamaran_ that the "stab" had been given;nor was the act a voluntary one, in any way. 

Not likely, indeed; since it had proved fatal to the swordsman himself. No one doubted his having gone dead to the bottom of the sea: for thebony "blade" was found to have been broken close to the "hilt, " and itwas not possible the owner could exist without this important weapon. Even supposing that the fearful "fracture" had not killed him outright, the loss of his long rapier, the only tool by which he could obtain hisliving, would be sure to shorten his lease of life, and the final momentcould not be long delayed. 

But neither sailor nor ex-sea-cook had any doubt of the fish havingcommitted suicide, no more than that the act was involuntary. 

The explanation given by Ben Brace to his _protege_ was simple, as itwas also rational. The sword-fish had been charging into a shoal ofalbacores. Partly blinded by the velocity of its impetuous rush, andpartly by its instinct of extreme voracity, --perhaps amounting to apassion, it had seen nothing of the raft until its long weapon struckthe plank, piercing the latter through and through. Unable to withdrawits rostrum from the fibrous wood, the fish had instantly inauguratedthat series of struggles, and continued them, until the crash came, caused, no doubt, by the upheaved raft lurching suddenly down in adirection transverse to its snout. 

Only a part of this explanatory information was extended to littleWilliam: for only a part was required. From some previous talk that hadoccurred on the same subject, he was already acquainted with a few ofthe facts relating to this foolish fencing on the part of thesword-fish. 

Nor was there at that moment any explanation either offered or asked;for, as soon as the _Catamaran_ had settled into her proper position, and Snowball had got aboard, the eyes of her whole crew, --those of theCoromantee among the rest, --became once more directed to that which hadoccupied their attention previous to receiving the shock, --the strangebehaviour of the frigate-bird. 

This creature was still down on the surface of the water, darting frompoint to point, fluttering and flopping, and throwing up the littleclouds of spray, that, surrounding it like a nimbus, seemed to follow itwherever it went!

Though Ben Brace and Snowball had been able to explain the action of thefish, they were both at fault about the behaviour of the bird. In alltheir sea experience neither had ever witnessed the like conductbefore, --either on the part of a frigate-bird, or any other bird of theocean. 

For a long time they stood watching the creature, and exchangingconjectures as to the cause of its singular action. It was clear thiswas not voluntary; for its movements partook of the nature of astruggle. Besides, its screams, --to which it gave an almost continuousutterance, --betokened either terror or pain, or both. 

But why did it keep to the surface of the sea, when it was well-known tobe a bird that could rise almost vertically into the air, and to thehighest point that winged creatures might ascend?

This was the query to which neither sailor nor sea-cook could give areply, either with positive truth or probable conjecture. 

For full ten minutes it remained unanswered; that is, ten minutes afterthe sword-fish adventure had ended, and twenty from the time thefrigate-bird had been seen to swoop at the flying-fish. Then, however, the problem received its solution; and the play of the _Pelicanusaquila_ was at length explained. 

It was no play on the part of the unfortunate bird, but a case ofinvoluntary and fearful captivity. 

The bird had begun to show symptoms of exhaustion, and as its strengthbecame enfeebled, its wings flopped more gently against the water, thespray no longer rose around it, and the sea underneath was lessagitated. 

The spectators could now see that it was not alone. Beneath, andapparently clutching it by the leg, was a fish whose shape, size, andsheen of azure hue proclaimed it an albacore, --no doubt, the one thatsimultaneously with the bird itself had been balked in the pursuit ofthe flying-fish. 

So far the detention of the frigate-bird upon the surface of the sea wasexplained; but not sufficiently. There was still cause for conjecture. The albacore seemed equally tired of the connection, --equally exhausted;and as it swam slowly about, --no longer darting swiftly from point topoint, as at the beginning of the strife, --the spectators could now seethat the foot of the sea-hawk, instead of being held between the jaws ofthe fish, --as at first they had supposed it to be, --appeared to beresting on the back of its head, as if the bird had perched there, andwas balancing itself on one leg!

Mystery of mysteries! What could it all mean?

The struggles of both bird and fish seemed coming to a termination: asthey were now only continued intermittently. After each interval, thewings of the former and the fins of the latter moved with feeblerstroke; until at length both wings and fins lay motionless, --the formeron, the latter _in_, the water. 

But that the bird's wings were extended, it would, no doubt, have sunkunder the surface; and the fish was still making feeble endeavours todraw it down; but the spread pinions, extending over nearly ten feet ofsurface, frustrated the design. 

It so chanced that the curious spectacle had occurred directly ahead ofthe _Catamaran_, and the craft, making way down the wind, kept graduallyapproaching the scene of the strife. 

Every moment the respective positions of the two parties revealedthemselves more clearly; but it was not until the raft swept withinreach, and the exhausted adversaries were both taken up, that theconnection between them became thoroughly understood. 

Then it was discovered that the contest which had occurred between themwas on both sides an involuntary affair, --had not been sought by either;but was the result of sheer accident. 

How could it be otherwise: since the albacore is too strong for the beakof the frigate-bird, --too big for even _its_ capacious throat toswallow; while, on the other hand, the frigate-bird never ventures tointrude itself on the cruising-ground of this powerful fish?

The accident which had conducted to this encounter, leading to a fatalentanglement, had been caused by a creature which is the common prey ofboth, --the little flying-fish, that for once had escaped from hisenemies of both elements, --the air and the water. 

In dashing down upon the flying-fish, the curving talons of the bird, missing the object for which they had been braced, entered the eye ofthe albacore. Partly because they fitted exactly into the socket, andpartly becoming imbedded among the fibrous sutures of the skull, theyremained fixed; so that neither bird nor fish--equally desirous ofundoing the irksome yoke--was able to put an end to the partnership!

Snowball gave them a divorce, as effectual as could have been obtainedin the court, ever to be noted as that of Sir Cresswell Cresswell. 

The process was brief, --the execution following quick upon the judgment;though the sentences pronounced upon the criminals were not exactly thesame. 

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

Thus, somewhat after the fashion of Kilkenny cats, perished two tyrantsof the sea. Let us hope that the tyrants of the land may all receive ananalogous compensation for their crimes!

CHAPTER FIFTY THREE. 

GLOOMY PROSPECTS. 

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

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

Fortunately there was none. The piercing of the plank, in which thebony rostrum remained firmly imbedded, was of no consequence whatever;and, although several feet of the "sword, "--the whole of the blade, infact, excepting that which protruded above, --could be perceived juttingout underneath, they made no attempt to "extract" it: since it could notgreatly interfere with the sailing qualities of the _Catamaran_. 

The plank itself had been started slightly out of place aid one or twoother timbers loosened. But in such able hands as those of Snowball andthe sailor, these trifling damages were soon made good again. 

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

Notwithstanding the interesting events which had transpired, --enough tosecure them against a single moment of _ennui_, --they were far frombeing cheerful in that twilight hour. The stirring incidents of the dayhad kept them from thinking of their real situation; but when all wasonce more tranquil, --even to the ocean around them, --their thoughtsnaturally reverted to their very narrow chances of ultimately escapingfrom that wide, wild waste, stretching, as it seemed, to the ends of theworld!

With wistful glances they had watched the sun sinking over the sea. Thepoint where the golden luminary disappeared from their sight was duewestward, --the direction in which they desired to go. Could they haveonly been at that moment where his glorious orb was shining down fromthe vertex, they would have been upon dry land; and, O what a thrillingthought is that of firm stable earth, to the wretched castaway clingingupon his frail raft in the middle of the endless ocean!

They were discouraged by the dead calm that reigned around them; forevery breath of the breeze had died away before sunset. The surface ofthe sea was tranquil even to glassiness; and as the twilight deepened, it began to mirror the millions of twinkling stars gradually thickeningin the sky. 

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

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

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

It is true that only a portion of their stock had been spilled into theengulfing ocean; but even this was a cause of regret; since it might notbe so easy to make up the quantity lost. 

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

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

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR. 

THANKSGIVING. 

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

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

Of coarse this change was attributable to some cause; and as it was aphysical one, there could be no difficulty in tracing it. 

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

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

Motion has always a soothing effect upon anyone suffering fromdespondent spirits; more especially when the movement is being made inthe right direction. A boat stationary in the water, or drifting thewrong way against the stroke of the rower, --a railway carriage at astand, or gliding back to the platform, contrary to the direction inwhich the traveller intends to go, --such experiences always produce afeeling of irksome uneasiness. When either begins to progress in itsproper course, --no matter how slowly, --the unpleasant feeling instantlypasses away; for we know that we are going "onward!"

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

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

It roused them from their despondency sufficiently to beget thoughts ofsupper; and Snowball was seen starting up with some alacrity, andscrambling towards his _stores_. 

His "locker" lay amidships; and as he had not far to go, nor any greatvariety of comestibles to choose from, he soon returned to the stern, --near which the others were seated, --carrying in his outstretched clawshalf a dozen of the "pickled" biscuits, and some morsels of cured fish. 

It was a coarse and meagre meal; at which even a pauper would havepouted his lips; but to those for whom it was intended it had relishenough to make it not only acceptable, but welcome. 

A greater delicacy was before their eyes, lying on the deck of the_Catamaran_. That was the albacore, --a fish whose _flesh_ is equal inexcellence to that of any taken out of the ocean. But the flesh of thealbacore was _raw_; while that of Snowball's stock, if not cooked, wasat least cured; and this, in the opinion of the Catamarans, rendered itmore palatable. 

With a little "Canary" to wash it down, it was not to be despised, --atleast, under the circumstances in which they were who supped upon it;but the wine was sparingly distributed, and drunk with a large admixtureof water. 

The bump of economy stood high upon the skull of the Coromantee. Perhaps to this might be attributed the fact of his being still inexistence: since but for the industry he had exhibited in collecting hisstores, and his careful hoarding of them, he might, with his _protege_, have long before succumbed to starvation. 

While eating their frugal supper, Snowball expressed regret at nothaving a fire, --upon which he might have cooked a cut from the albacore. The _chef-de-caboose_ was not ignorant of the excellence of the fish. 

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

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

Small as was the quantity distributed to each, it had the effect ofstill further cheering them; and, after supper, they sat for some timeindulging in lighter converse than that to which they had latelyaccustomed themselves. 

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

"Ya--ya! Massa Ben. We float yet, --we keep so long 's we kin, --dat fo'sartin. We nebba say die, --long 's de _Catamaran_ hold togedda. "

"I war 'stonished, " continued the sailor, without heeding the oddinterpolation of the sea-cook, "wonderful 'stonished when thatflyin'-fish chucked itself aboard our bit o' plankin', an' it no biggerthan the combin' o' a hatchway. What kud 'a conducted it thear, --tothat spot above all others o' the broad ocean? What but the hand o'that angel as sits up aloft? No, Snowy! ye may talk as ye like 'boutyour Duppys and Jumbes, and that other creetur ye call your Fetush; butI tell ye, nigger, thear be somethin' up above us as is above allthem, --an' that's the God o' the Christyun. He be thear; and He sentthe flyin'-fish into our wee bit o' raft, and He sent the shower assaved me and little Will'm from dyin' o' thust; and He it war that madeyou an' me drift to'rds each other, --so as that we might work thegitherto get out o' this here scrape, as our own foolishness and wickednessha' got us into. "

"Dat am de troof, Massa Brace, dat las' remark, --only not altogedder!'T want altogedder our own fault dat brought us on board de slabe-ship_Pandora_, --neider you not maseff. It mite a been our foolishness, datI do admit; but de wickedness war more de fault ob oder men, dat amwickeder dan eider you or dis unfortunate Coromantee nigga. "

"Never mind, Snowy, " responded the sailor, "I know there be still somegood in ye; and maybe there be good in all o' us, to be favoured andprotected as we've been in the midst o' so many dangers. I think afterwhat's happened this day, --especially our escaping from that sharks an'the long swim as we had to make after'ards, --we ought to be uncommonthankful, and say somethin' to show it, too. "

"Say something! say what, Massa Brace?"

"I mean a prayer. "

"Prayer! wha's dat?"

"Surely, Snowy, you know what a prayer be?"

"Nebba heerd ob de ting, --nebba in all ma life!"

"Well, it be to say somethin' to Him as keeps watch up aloft, --either byway o' askin' for somethin' you want to get, or thankin' Him for whatyou ha' got arready. The first be called a prayer, --the t'other be athanksgivin'. Thear ain't much difference, as I could ever see; tho'I've heerd the ship's chaplain go through 'em both, --ay, scores o'times; but the one as we want now be the thanksgivin'; an' I know littleWill'm here can go through it like a breeze. Did you ever hear Will'mpray, Snowy?"

"Nebba! I tell ye, Massa Brace, a nebba heer anybody pray in de fashunyou 'peak 'bout. Ob coas, I hab heer de nigga talk to da Fetish, dewhich I, tho' I be a nigga maseff, nebba belieb'd in. Dis child nobelieb in anyting he no see, an' he see many ting he no belieb in. "

To this frank confession of faith on the part of the Coromantee Ben madeno rejoinder that might signify either assent or opposition. His replywas rather a continuation of the train of thought that had led to hislast interrogative. 

"Ah, Snowy, if you heerd the lad! He do pray beautiful! Most equal tothe parson, as we had aboard the frigate; an' he warn't slow at it, eyther. Do 'ee think, Will'm, " continued the sailor, turning to the ladwith an inquiring look, "do 'ee think ye can remember that prayer as isin the Church Sarvice, and which I've heerd the frigate chaplain gothrough, --specially after a storm, --as speaks about deliverin' us fromall dangers by sea and by land? You've heerd it at home in the church. D'ye think ye could gie it as?"

"O, " answered William, "you mean the `Thanksgiving for Deliverance fromour Enemies. ' Certainly I remember it. How could I forget what I'veheard so many Sundays in church, besides often on week-days at home? Oyes, Ben, I can repeat it, if you wish!"

"I do, lad. Gie it us, then. It may do good. At all events, we _owe_it, for what's been done to us. So take a reef out o' your tongue, lad, an' fire away!"

Notwithstanding the _bizarrerie_ of manner in which the request wasmade, the boy-sailor hesitated not to comply with it; and turninghimself round upon his knees, --a movement imitated by all the others, --he repeated that _thanksgiving_ of the Church Service, which, thoughwell-known, is fortunately only heard upon very unfrequent occasions. 

The thanksgiving appeared an appropriate finale to the toils and dangersof the day; and after it was offered up, Snowball, William, and Laleelay down to rest, --leaving Ben Brace to attend to the steering-oar, andotherwise perform the duties of the dog-watch. 

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE. 

SNOWBALL SEES LAND. 

The man-o'-war's-man kept watch during the long hours of the night. True to his trust, he attended to the steering-oar: and as the breezecontinued to blow steadily in the same direction, the raft, under thedouble propulsion of the wind and the "line current, " made considerableway to the westward. 

A sort of filmy fog had arisen over the ocean, which hid the stars fromsight. This might have rendered it impossible for the steersman to keephis course; but, under the belief that there was no change occurring inthe direction of the wind, Ben guided himself by that, and veryproperly, as it afterwards proved. 

Just before daybreak, he was relieved by Snowball; who entered upon hiswatch, at the same time taking his turn at the steering-oar. 

Ben had not aroused the negro for this purpose; and he would havegenerously remained at his post until morning, had Snowball desired toprolong his slumbers. 

The act of arousing himself was not altogether voluntary on the part ofthe negro; though neither was it the doing of his comrade. It was inconsequence of a physical feeling--a cold shivering caused by the dampsea-fog--that Snowball had been disturbed from his sleep; and which, onhis awaking, kept him for some minutes oscillating in a sort of ague, his ivories "dingling" against each other with a continuous rattle thatresembled the clattering of some loose bolt in a piece of machinery outof repair. 

It was some time before Snowball could recover his exact equilibrium;for, of all sorts of climate, that least endurable to the Coromanteenegro is a cold one. 

After repeated flopping his arms over his broad chest, and strikingcrosswise, until the tips of his fingers almost met upon the spinalcolumn of his back, Snowball succeeded in resuscitating the circulation;and then, perceiving it was full time to take his turn at the helm, heproposed relieving the sailor. 

This proposal was agreed to; Ben, before putting himself in a positionfor repose, giving Snowball the necessary directions as to the course inwhich the _Catamaran_ was to be kept. 

In five minutes after, the sailor was asleep; and the sea-cook was theonly one of the Catamarans who was conscious that the craft that carriedthem was only a frail structure drifting in mid-ocean hundreds of milesfrom land. 

Little William was, perhaps, dreaming of his English, and Lilly Lalee ofher African, home; while the sailor, in all probability, was fancyinghimself safely "stowed" in the forecastle of a British frigate, with allsail rightly set, and a couple of hundred jolly Jacks like himselfstretched out in their "bunks" or swinging in their hammocks around him. 

During the first hour of his watch, Snowball did not embarrass his brainwith any other idea than simply to follow the instructions of thesailor, and keep the _Catamaran_ before the wind. 

There had been something said about keeping a look-out, in the hope ofespying a sail; but in the dense fog that surrounded them there would beno chance of seeing the biggest ship, --even should one be passing at anordinary cable's length from the _Catamaran_. 

Snowball, therefore, did not trouble himself to scan the sea on eitherside of their course; but for all that he kept the look-out enjoined onhim by the sailor, --that is, he _kept it with his ears_!

Though a ship might not be seen, the voices of her crew or other soundsoccurring aboard might be heard; for in this way the presence of avessel is often proclaimed in a very dark night or when the sea isobscured by a fog. 

Oftener, however, at such times, two ships will approach and recede fromone another, without either having been conscious of the proximity ofthe other, --meeting in mid-ocean and gliding silently past, like twogiant spectres, --each bent on its own noiseless errand. 

Daybreak arrived without the black pilot having heard any sound, beyondthat of the breeze rustling against the sail of the _Catamaran_ or thehollow "sough" of the water as it surged against the empty casks lashedalong their sides. 

As the day broke, however, and the upper edge of the sun's disk becamevisible above the horizon, --the fog under the influence of his raysgrowing gradually but sensibly thinner, --a sight became disclosed to theeyes of Snowball that caused the blood to course with lightningquickness through his veins; while his heart, beating delightfullywithin his capacious chest, bounded far above the region of hisdiaphragm. 

At the same instant he sprang to his feet, dropped the steering-oar, asif it had been a bar of red-hot iron; and, striding forward to thestarboard bow of the _Catamaran_ stood gazing outward upon the ocean!

What could have caused this sudden commotion in both the mind and bodyof the Coromantee? What spectacle could have thus startled him?

It was the sight of _land_!

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX. 

IS IT LAND?

A sight so unexpected, and yet so welcome, should have elicited from hima vociferous announcement of the fact. 

It did not. On the contrary, he kept silent while stepping forward onthe deck, and for some time after, while he stood gazing over the bow. 

It was the very unexpectedness of seeing land--combined with the_desirability_ of such a sight--that hindered him from proclaiming it tohis companions; and it was some time before he became convinced that hissenses were not deceiving him. 

Though endowed with only a very limited knowledge of nautical geography, the negro knew a good deal about the lower latitudes of the Atlantic. More than once had he made that dreaded middle passage, --once infetters, and often afterwards assisting to carry others across in thesame unfeeling fashion. He knew of no land anywhere near where theywere now supposed to be; had never seen or heard of any, --neitherisland, rock, nor reef. He knew of the Isle of Ascension, and the loneislet of Saint Paul's. But neither of these could be near the track onwhich the _Catamaran_ was holding her course. It could not be either. 

And yet what was it he saw? for, sure as eyes were eyes, there was anisland outlined upon the retina, so plainly perceptible, that his sensescould _not be deceiving him_!

It was after this conviction became fully established in his mind, thathe at length broke silence; and in a voice that woke his slumberingcompanions with a simultaneous start. 

"Land 'o!" vociferated Snowball. 

"Land ho!" echoed Ben Brace, springing to his feet, and rubbing thesleep out of his eyes, "Land, you say, Snowy? Impossible! You must bemistaken, nigger. "

"Land?" interrogated little William. "Whereaway, Snowball?"

"Land?" cried the Portuguese girl, comprehending that word of joyfulsignification, though spoken in a language not her own. 

"Whar away?" inquired the sailor, as he scrambled over the planks of theraft, to get on the forward side of the sail, which hindered his fieldof view. 

"Hya!" replied Snowball. "Hya, Massa Brace, jess to la'bord, ober dela'bord bow. "

"It do look like land, " assented the sailor, directing his glance uponsomething of a strange appearance, low down upon the surface of the sea, and still but dimly discernible through the fog. "Shiver my timbers ifit don't! An island it be, --not a very big 'un, but for all that, itseem a island. "

"My gollies! dar am people on it! D'you see um, Massa Brace? movin''bout all ober it I see 'um plain as de sun in de hebbens! Scores o'people a'gwine about back'ard an' forrads. See yonner!"

"Plain as the sun in the heavens, " was not a very appropriate simile forSnowball to make use of at that moment; for the orb of day was stilldarkly obscured by the fog; and for the same reason, the outlines of theisland, --or whatever they were taking for one, --could be traced onlyvery indistinctly. 

Certain it is, however, that Snowball, who had been gazing longer at thesupposed land, and had got his eyes more accustomed to the view, did seesome scores of figures moving about over it; and Ben Brace, with littleWilliam as well, now that their attention was called to them, couldperceive the same forms. 

"Bless my stars!" exclaimed the sailor, on making out that the figureswere in motion, "thear be men on 't sure enough, --an' weemen, I shouldsay, --seein' as there's some o' 'em in whitish clothes. Who and whatcan they be? Shiver my timbers if I can believe it, tho' I see it rightafore my eyes! I never heerd o' a island in this part of the Atlantic, an' I don't believe thear be one, 'ceptin' it's sprung up within thelast year or two. What do you think, Snowy? Be it a Flyin' Dutchman, or a rock, as if just showin' his snout above water, or a reg'lar-builtisland?"

"Dat 'ere am no Flyin' Dutchman, --leas'wise a hope um no' be. No, MassaBrace, dis nigga wa right in de fuss speckelashun. 'Tarn a island, --abit ob do real terrer firmer, as you soon see when we puts de_Cat'maran_ 'bout an' gits a leetle nearer to de place. "

This hypothetic suggestion on the part of the Coromantee was alsointended as a counsel; and, acting upon it, the sailor scrambled backover the raft, and seizing hold of the steering-oar, turned the_Catamaran's_ head straight in the direction of the newly-discoveredland. 

The island, --if such it should prove to be, --was of no very greatextent. It appeared to run along the horizon a distance of somethinglike a hundred yards; but estimates formed in this fashion are oftendeceptive, --more especially when a fog interferes, such as at thatmoment hung over it. 

The land appeared to be elevated several feet above the level of thesea, --at one end having a bold bluff-like termination, at the othershelving off in a gentle slope towards the water. 

It was principally upon the more elevated portion that the figures wereseen, --here standing in groups of three or four, and there moving aboutin twos, or singly. 

They appeared to be of different sizes, and differently dressed: for, even through the film, it could be seen that their garments were ofvarious cuts and colours. Some were stalwart fellows, beside whom wereothers that in comparison were mere pygmies. These Snowball said werethe "pickaninnies, "--the children of the taller ones. 

They were in different attitudes too. Some standing erect, apparentlycarrying long lance-like weapons over their shoulders; others similarlyarmed, in stooping positions; while not a few appeared to be activelyengaged, handling huge pickaxes, with which they repeatedly struckdownwards, as if excavating the soil!

It is true that their manoeuvres were seen only indistinctly: and it wasnot possible for the Catamarans to come to any certain understanding, asto what sort of work was going on upon the island. 

It was still very doubtful whether what they saw was in reality anisland, or that the figures upon it were those of human beings. Snowball believed them to be so, and emphatically asserted his belief;but Ben was slightly incredulous and undecided, notwithstanding that hehad several times "shivered his timbers" in confirmation of the fact. 

It was not the possibility of the existence of an island that the sailordisputed. That was possible and probable enough. At the time of whichwe speak, new islands were constantly turning up in the ocean, where noland was supposed to exist; and even at the present hour, when one mightsuppose that every inch of the sea has been sailed over, the discoveryof rocks, shoals, and even unknown islands, is far from unfrequent. 

It was not the island, therefore, that now puzzled theex-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 haveexplained the circumstance of its being inhabited; though theexplanation would not have been productive of pleasure either to himselfor his companions. In that case he would have believed the moving formsto be the shipwrecked crew of the _Pandora_ who on this ocean islet hadfound a temporary resting-place; while the pickaxes, which were beingfreely employed, would have indicated the sinking of wells in searchafter fresh water. 

The number of people on the island, however, with other circumstancesobserved, at once contradicted the idea that it could be the crew of theshipwrecked slaver; and the certainty that it was _not_ these ruffianswhom they saw emboldened the Catamarans in their approach. 

In spite of appearances, still was the sailor disposed to doubt theexistence of an island; or, at least, that the forms moving to and froover its surface were those of human beings. 

Nor could he be cured of his incredulity until the _Catamaran_, approaching still nearer to the shore of the doubtful islet, enabled himto see and distinguish beyond the possibility of doubt a flag floatingfrom the top of its staff, which rose tall and tapering from the veryhighest point of land which the place afforded!

The flag was of crimson cloth, --apparently a piece of bunting. Itfloated freely upon the breeze; which the filmy mist, though halfdisclosing, could not altogether conceal. The deep red colour was tooscarce upon the ocean to be mistaken for the livery of any of itsdenizens. It could not be the tail-feathers of the tropic bird soprized by the chiefs of Polynesia; nor yet the scarlet pouch of thesea-hawk. 

It could be nothing else than a "bit o' buntin'. "

So, at length, believed Ben Brace, and his belief, expressed in his ownpeculiar _patois_, produced conviction in the minds of all, that theobject extending along a hundred fathoms of the horizon, "must be eythera rock, a reef, or a island; and the creeturs movin' over it must bemen, weemen, an' childer!"

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN. 

THE KING OF THE CANNIBAL ISLANDS. 

The emphatic declaration of the sailor, --that the dark disc before themmust be an island, and that the upright forms upon it were those ofhuman beings, --dispelled all doubts upon the subject; and produced afeeling of wild excitement in the minds of all three of his companions. 

So strong was this feeling, that they could no longer controlthemselves; but gave vent to their emotions in a simultaneous shout ofjoy. 

Acting prudently, they would have restrained that mirthful exhibition, for although, for reasons already stated, the people appearing upon theisland could not be the wicked castaways who had composed the crew ofthe _Pandora_, still might they be a tribe of savages equally wicked andmurderous. 

Who could tell that it was not a community of _Cannibals_. No oneaboard the _Catamaran_. 

It may seem singular that such a thought should have entered the mind ofany of the individuals who occupied the raft. But it did occur to someof them; and to one of the four in particular. This was Ben Bracehimself. 

The sailor's experience, so far from destroying the credences ofboyhood, --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 everyparticular. 

He had been to the Fiji islands, where he had seen theirking, Thakombau, --a true descendant of the lineage of"Hokey-Pokey-Winkey-Wum, "--with other dignitaries of this man-eatingnation. He had seen their huge caldron for cooking the flesh of men, --their pots and pans for stewing it, --their dishes upon which it wasserved 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 theirgrand festivals; where the bodies of men and women, cooked in variousstyles, --stewed, roasted, and boiled, --had been served out and partakenof by hundreds of Thakombau's courtiers; the sailor's own captain, --thecaptain of a British frigate, --ay, the commodore of a Britishsquadron, --with cannon sufficient to have blown the island of Viti Vauout of the water, --sitting alongside, apparently a tranquil andcontented spectator of the horrid ceremonial!

It is difficult to account for the behaviour of this Englishman, theHon. -- by name. The only explanation of his conduct one can arrive atis, to believe that his weak mind was fast confined by the trammels ofthat absurd, but often too convenient, theory of internationalnon-interference, --the most dangerous kind of red-tape that evertethered the squeamish conscience of an official imbecile. 

How different was the action of Wilkes, --that Yankee commander we are sofond of finding fault with! He, too, paid a visit to the cannibalisland of Viti Vau; and while there, taught both its king and its peoplea lesson by the fire of his forty-pounders that, if not altogethereffective in extinguishing this national but unnatural custom, hasterrified them in its practice to this very day. 

Non-interference, indeed! International delicacy in the treatment of atribe of cruel savages! A nation of man-eaters, --forsooth, a nation!Why not apply the laws of nationality to every band of brigands whochances to have conquered an independent existence? Bah! The world isfull of frivolous pretences, --drunk with the poison-cup of politicalhypocrisy. 

It was not Ben Brace who thus reasoned, but his biographer. Ben'sreflections were of a strictly practical character His belief incannibalism was complete; and as the craft to which he had soinvoluntarily attached himself drifted on towards the mysterious islet, he was not without some misgivings as to the character of the people whomight inhabit it. 

For this reason he would have approached its shores with greatercaution; and he was in the act of enforcing this upon his companions, when his intention was entirely frustrated by the joyous _huzza_ utteredby Snowball; echoed by little William; and chorussed by the childish, feminine voice of Lilly Lalee. 

The sailor's caution would have come too late, --even had it beennecessary to the safety of the _Catamaran's_ crew. Fortunately it wasnot: for that imprudent shout produced an effect which at once changedthe current of the thoughts, not only of Ben Brace, but of those who hadgiven utterance 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 amongthe people who inhabited it. If human beings, they must be of a strangerace, --very strange indeed, --to have been furnished with wings! Howotherwise could they have forsaken their footing on _terra firma_, --ifthe island was such, --and soared upward into the air, which one and allof 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 thenature of the island, there could be no longer any about the characterof its inhabitants. 

"Dey am birds!" suggested the Coromantee; "nuffin more and nuffin lessdan birds!"

"You're right, Snowy, " assented the sailor. "They be birds; and all thebetter they be so. Yes; they're birds, for sartin. I can tell the cuto' some o' their jibs. I see frigates, an' a man-o'-war's-man, an'boobies among 'em; and I reckon Old Mother Carey has a brood o' herchickens there. They be all sizes, as ye see. "

It was no more a matter of conjecture, as to what kind of creaturesinhabited the island. The forms that had been mystifying the crew ofthe _Catamaran_, though of the biped class, were no longer to beregarded as human beings, or even creatures of the earth. They haddeclared themselves denizens of the air; and, startled by the shoutsthat had reached them, --to them, no doubt, sounds strange, and neverbefore heard, --they had sought security in an element into which therewas no fear of being followed by their enemies, either of the earth orthe water. 

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT. 

VERY LIKE A WHALE. 

Though the birds by their flight had dissolved one half of thespeculative theory which the crew of the _Catamaran_ had constructed, the other half still held good. The island was still there, beforetheir eyes; though completely divested of its inhabitants, --whose suddeneviction had cost only a single shout!

The flag was still waving over it; though, to all appearance, there wasnot a creature on shore that might feel pride in saluting that solitarystandard!

There could be no one; else why should the birds have tarried so longundisturbed, to be scared at last by the mere sound of human voices?

Since there was nobody on the island, there was no need to observefurther caution in approaching it, --except so far as regarded theconduct of their craft; and in the belief that they were about to setfoot upon the shores of a desert isle, the sailor and Snowball, withlittle William assisting them, now went to work with the oars andhastened 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 manyminutes had elapsed, the craft was within a few hundred fathoms of themysterious island, and still gliding nearer to it. This proximity, --along with the fact that the morning mist had meanwhile been graduallybecoming dispelled by the rays of the rising sun, --enabled her crew toobtain a clearer view of the object before them; and Ben Brace, suspending his exertions at the oar, once more slewed himself round tohave a fresh look at the supposed _land_. 

"Land!" he exclaimed, as soon as his eyes again rested upon it. "Aisland, indeed! Shiver my timbers if 't be a island after all! That beno land, --ne'er a bit o't. It look like a rock, too; but there besomething else it look liker; an' that be a _whale_. 'Tis wery like awhale!"

"Berry, --berry like a whale!" echoed Snowball, not too well satisfied atdiscovering the resemblance. 

"It _be_ a whale!" pronounced the sailor, in a tone of emphaticconfidence, --"a whale, an' nothin' else. Ay, " he continued speaking, asif some new light had broken upon him, "I see it all now. It be one o'the great _spermaceti_ whales. I wonder I didn't think o't afore. It'sbeen killed by some whaling-vessel; and the flag you see on its back'sneyther more nor less than one o' their _whifts_. They've stuck itthere, so as they might be able to find the sparmacety when they comeback. Marcy heaven! I hope they _will_ come back. "

As Ben finished this explanatory harangue, he started into an erectattitude, 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 understood from thewords to which he had given utterance, --the hope expressed at thetermination of his speech. The whale must have been killed, as he hadsaid. He was looking for the _whaler_. 

For full ten minutes he continued his optical search over the sea, --until not a fathom of the surface had escaped his 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'scountenance, and was instantly transferred to the faces of hiscompanions. 

The sea, --as far as his eye could command a view of it, --showed neithersail, nor any other object. Its shining surface was absolutely withouta speck. 

With a disappointed air, the captain of the _Catamaran_ descended fromhis post of observation; and once more turned his attention to the dead_cachalot_ from which they were now separated by less than a hundredfathoms, --a distance that was constantly decreasing, as the raft, undersail, continued to drift nearer. 

The body of the whale did not appear anything like as large as whenfirst seen. The mist was no longer producing its magnifying effect uponthe vision of our adventurers; but although the carcass of the_cachalot_ could no more have been mistaken for an island, still was itan object of enormous dimensions; and might easily have passed for agreat black rock standing several fathoms above the surface of the sea. It was over twenty yards in length; and, seen sideways from the raft, ofcourse appeared much longer. 

In five minutes after, they were close up to the dead whale; and, thesail being lowered, the raft was brought to. Ben threw a rope aroundone of the pectoral fins; and, after making it fast, the _Catamaran_ laymoored alongside the _cachalot_, like some diminutive tender attached toa huge ship of war! There were several reasons why Ben Brace shouldmount 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 thedead whale. Nor was it to be done without danger. The slipperyepidermis of the huge leviathan, --lubricated as it was with thatunctuous fluid which the skin of the sperm-whale is known to secrete, --rendered footing upon it extremely insecure. 

It might be fancied no great matter for a swimmer like Ben Braco toslide off: since a fall of a few feet into the water could not cause himany great bodily hurt. But when the individual forming this fancy hasbeen told that there was something like a score of sharks prowlingaround the carcass, he will obtain a more definite idea of the danger towhich such a fall would have submitted the adventurous seaman. 

Ben Brace was the last man to be cowed by a trifling danger, or even oneof magnitude; and partly by Snowball's assistance, and using thepectoral flipper to which the raft was attached as a stirrup, hesucceeded 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 ropewas thrown up to him, --by which Snowball was himself hoisted to theshoulders of the _cachalot_; and then the two seamen proceeded towardsthe tail, --or, as the sailor pronounced it, the "starn" of this peculiarcraft. 

A little aft of "midships" a pyramidal lump of fatty substance projectedseveral feet above the line of the vertebras. It was the spurious orrudimentary dorsal fin, with which the sperm-whale is provided. 

On arriving at this protuberance, --which chanced to be the highest pointon the carcass where the flag was elevated on its slender shaft, --bothcame to a halt; and there stood together, gazing around them over theglittering surface of the sunlit sea. 

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE. 

ABOARD THE BODY OF A WHALE. 

The object of their united reconnoissance was the same which, but a fewmoments before, had occupied the attention of the sailor. They werestanding 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, thesailor once more turned his attention to the huge leviathan, on whoseback they were borne. 

Several objects not before seen now attracted the attention of himselfand 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 itsside, their iron arrows buried up to the socket in its blubber; whilefrom the thick wooden shanks, protruding beyond the skin, were linesextending into the water, at the ends of which were large blocks of woodfloating like buoys upon the surface of the sea. 

Ben identified the latter as the "drogues, " that form part of theequipment 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 wasperfectly _au fait_ to all connected with the calling of a whaler. 

"Yes, " resumed he, on recognising the implements of his _ci-devant_profession, "it ha' been jest as I said. A whaler 'a been over thisground, and killed the spermacety. Maybe I'm wrong about that, " headded, after reflecting a short while. "I may be wrong about the shipbeing over this very ground. I don't like the look o' them drogues. "

"De drogue?" inquired the Coromantee. "Dem block o' wood dat amdriffin' 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 depresence ob de flag and de hapoons?"

"Ah!" answered the sailor, with something like a sigh; "they kud a' gotthear, without the men as throwed 'em bein' anywhere near this. Youknow nothin' o' whalin', Snowy. "

This speech put Snowball in a quandary. 

"You see, nigger, " continued the sailor, "the presence o' them droguesindercates that the whale warn't dead when the boats left her. " (The_ci-devant_ whaler followed the fashion of his former associates, inspeaking of the whale, among whom the epicene gender of the animal isalways feminine. ) "She must a' been still alive, " continued he, "and thedrogues were put thear to hinder her from makin' much way through thewater. In coorse there must a' been a school o' the spermacetys; andthe crew o' the whaler didn't want to lose time with this 'un, whichthey had wounded. For that reason they have struck her with this pairo' drogued harpoons; and stuck this whift into her back. On fust seein'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 theboats? If the whale hadn't a' been dead, nobody would a' dared to aclombed on to her an' fix the flag that way. "

"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 theback o' the anymal. It's to one side, though it now stand nearly ontop; because the body o' the whale be canted over a bit. A first-rate`_heads-man_' o' a whale-boat could easily a' throwed it that way fromthe bottom o' his boat, and that's the way it ha' been done. "

"Spose 'im hab been jest dat way, " assented Snowball. "But wha' matter'bout dat? De whale have 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 whilethe boats were about it, it would prove that the whale-ship must a' beenhere while they were a killin' the creature; an' that would go far toprove that she couldn'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 whalerbe at this time. The anymal, after being drogued, may a' sweemed many amile from the place where she war first harpooned. I've knowed 'em togo 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 thefull o' that distance afore givin' in. If that's been so, thear ain'tmuch chance o' eyther her or we bein' overhauled by the whaler. "

As the sailor ceased speaking he once more directed his glance over theocean; which, after another minute and careful scrutiny of the horizon, fell back upon the body of the whale, with the same expression ofdisappointment that before had been observable. 

CHAPTER SIXTY. 

A CURIOUS CUISINE. 

During all that day, the sailor and the ex-cook of the _Pandora_ keptwatch from the _summit_ of the dead _cachalot_. 

It was not altogether for this purpose they remained there, --since themast of the _Catamaran_ would have given them an observatory of equaland 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 hopethat the destroyers of the whale might return to take possession of thevaluable prize which they had left behind them. 

There was, moreover, an undefined feeling of security in lying alongsidethe leviathan, --almost as great as they might have felt if anchored nearthe beach of an actual island, --and this had some influence inprotracting their stay. 

But there was yet another motive which would of itself have caused themto remain at their present moorings for a considerable period of time. 

During the intervals of their protracted vigil, they had not beeninattentive to the objects immediately around them: and the carcass ofthe whale had come in for a share of their consideration. Aconsultation had been held upon it, which had resulted in adetermination not to leave the leviathan until they had rendered itsremains, or at least a portion of them, useful for some future end. 

The old whaleman knew that under that dark epidermis over which, for twodays, they had been recklessly treading, there were many valuablesubstances that might be made available to their use and comfort, onboard the _Catamaran_. 

First, there was the "blubber, " which, if boiled or "tried, " would, fromthe body of an old bull like that, yield at the very least, a hundredbarrels of oil. 

This they cared nothing about: since they had neither the pots to boil, the casks to hold, nor the craft to carry it, --even if rendered into oilfor the market. 

But Ben knew that within the skull of the _cachalot_ there was a depositof pure sperm, that needed no preparation, which would be found ofservice to them in a way they had already thought of. 

This sperm could be reached by simply removing the "junk" which formsthe exterior portion of a _cachalot's_ huge snout, and sinking a shaftinto the skull. Here would, or should, be found a cavity filled with adelicate cellular tissue, containing ten or a dozen large barrels fullof the purest spermaceti. 

They did not stand in need of anything like this quantity. A couple ofcasks would suffice for their need; and these they desired to obtain forthat want which had suggested itself to both Snowball and the sailor. They had been long suffering from the absence of fuel, --not wherewith towarm themselves, --but as a means of enabling them to cook their food. They need suffer no longer. With the spermaceti to be extracted fromthe "case" of the _cachalot_, they could lay in a stock that would lastthem for many a day. They had their six casks, --five of them stillempty. By using a couple of them to contain the oil, the raft wouldstill be sufficiently buoyant to carry all hands, and not a bit lessworthy of the sea. 

Both of these brave men had observed the repugnance with which LillyLalee partook of their raw repasts. Nothing but hunger enabled her toeat what they could set before her. It had touched the feelings ofboth; and rendered them desirous of providing her with some kind of foodmore congenial to the delicate palate of the child. 

Long before they had any intention of abandoning the dead body of thewhale, --in fact shortly after taking possession of it, --Ben Brace, assisted by Snowball and little William, --the latter having also mountedupon the monster's back, --cut open the great cavity of the "case" withthe axe; and then inserting a large tin pot, --which had turned up in thesailor's sea-kit, --drew it put again full of liquid spermaceti. 

This was carried down to the deck of the _Catamaran_ when the process ofmaking a fire was instantly proceeded with. 

By means of some untwisted strands of tarry rope, ingeniously insertedinto the oil, the pot was converted into a sort of open lamp, --whichonly required to be kindled into a flame. 

But Ben Brace had not been smoking a pipe for a period of nearly thirtyyears, without being provided with the means of lighting it. In thesame depository from which the tin pot had been obtained was found theproper implements for striking a light, --flint, steel, and tinder, --and, as the latter, within the water-tight compartment of theman-o'-war's-man's chest, having been preserved perfectly dry, there wasno difficulty in setting fire to the oil. 

It was soon seen burning up over the rim of the pot with a bright clearflame; and a large flake of the dried fish being held over the blaze, ina very short space of time became done to a turn. 

This furnished all of them with a meal much more palatable than any theyhad eaten since they had been forced to flee from the decks of theburning _Pandora_. 

CHAPTER SIXTY ONE. 

AN ASSEMBLY OF SHARKS. 

As the spermaceti in the pot still continued to blaze up, --the wick notyet having burnt out, --it occurred to Snowball to continue his culinaryoperations, and broil a sufficient quantity of the dead fish to servefor supper. The ex-cook, unlike most others of his calling, did notlike to see his fuel idly wasted: and therefore, in obedience to thethought that had suggested itself, he brought forth another flake ofshark-flesh, and submitted to the flames, as before. 

While observing him in the performance of this provident task, a capitalidea also occurred to Ben Brace. Since it was possible thus to cooktheir supper in advance, why not also their breakfast for the followingmorning, then dinner for the day, their supper of to-morrow night, --inshort, all the raw provisions which they had on their hands? By doingthis, not only would a fire be no longer necessary, but the fish socooked, --or even thoroughly dried in the blaze and smoke, --would belikely to keep better. In fact, fish thus preserved, --as is often donewith herrings, ling, codfish, mackerel, and haddock, --will remain goodfor months without suffering the slightest taint of decomposition. Itwas an excellent idea; and, Ben having communicated it to the others, itwas 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 ofthe liquid spermaceti! Besides, there was the enormous quantity of junkand blubber, --whole mountains of it, --both of which could be renderedinto oil by a process which the whalers term "trying. " Otherinflammable substances, too, are found in the carcass of thesperm-whale: so that, in the article of fuel, the crew of the_Catamaran_ had been unexpectedly furnished with a stock by which theymight keep up a blazing fire for the whole of a twelvemonth. 

It was no longer any scarcity of fuel that could hinder them fromcooking on a large scale, but a scantiness of the provisions to becooked; and they were now greatly troubled at the thought of theirlarder having got so low. 

While Ben Brace and Snowball stood pondering upon this, and mutuallymurmuring their regrets, a thought suddenly came into the mind of thesailor which was calculated to give comfort to all. 

"As for the provisions in our locker, " said he, "we can easily 'plenishthem, such as they be. Look there, nigger. There be enough raw meat tokeep 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 thephrase "raw meat. " Scores of sharks, --both of the blue and whitespecies, --attended by their pilots and suckers, were swimming around thecarcass of the _cachalot_. The sea seemed alive with them. Scarce asquare rod, within a circle of several hundred fathoms' circumference, that did not exhibit their stiff, wicked-looking dorsal fins cuttingsharply above the surface. 

Of course the presence of the dead whale accounted for this unusualconcourse of the tyrants of the deep. Not that they had any intentionof directing their attack upon it: for, from the peculiar conformationof his mouth, the shark is incapable of feeding upon the carcass of alarge whale. But having, no doubt, accompanied the chase at the timethe _cachalot_ had been harpooned, they were now staying by a dead body, from an instinct that told them its destroyers would return, and supplythem with its flesh in convenient morsels, --while occupied in _flensing_it. 

"Ugh!" exclaimed the sailor; "they look hungry enough to bite at anybait 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 ashark-hook 'board de _Cat'maran_. "

"Don't make yourself uneasy 'bout that, " rejoined the sailor, in aconfident tone. "Shark-hook be blowed! I see somethin' up yonder wortha score o' shark-hooks. The brutes be as tame as turtles turned ontheir 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'tpull 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 fewsharks 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, andcommenced clambering up on the carcass. 

Snowball, who perceived the wisdom of his old comrade's design, let gothe flake of fish he had been holding in the blaze; and, parting fromthe pot, once more followed the sailor up the steep side of the_cachalot_. 

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO. 

A DANGEROUS EQUILIBRIUM. 

Ben had taken along with him the axe; and, proceeding towards one of theharpoons, --still buried in the body of the whale, --he commenced cuttingit out. 

In a few moments a deep cavity was hewn out around the shank of theharpoon; which was further deepened, until the barbed blade was wellnighlaid bare. Snowball, impatiently seizing the stout wooden shaft, gaveit a herculean pluck, that completely detached the arrow from the softblubber in which it had been imbedded. 

Unfortunately for Snowball, he had not well calculated the strengthrequired for clearing that harpoon. Having already made severalfruitless attempts to extract it, he did not expect it to draw out soeasily; and, in consequence of his making an over-effort, his balancebecame deranged; his feet, ill-planted upon the slippery skin, flewsimultaneously from beneath him; and he came down upon the side of theleviathan with a loud "slap, "--similar to what might have been heard hadhe fallen upon half-thawed ice. 

Unpleasant as this mishap may have been, it was not the worst that mighthave befallen him on that occasion. Nor was it the fall itself thatcaused him to "sing out" at the top of his voice, and in accentsbetokening a terrible alarm. 

What produced this manifestation was a peril of far more fearful kind, which at the moment menaced him. 

The spot where the harpoon had been sticking was in the side of the_cachalot_, and, as the carcass lay, a broad space around the weaponpresented an inclined plane, sloping abruptly towards the water. Lubricated as it was with the secreted oil of the animal, it was smoothas glass. Upon this slope Snowball had been standing; and upon it hadhe fallen. 

But the impetus of the fall not only hindered him from lying where hehad gone down, but also from being able to get up again; and, instead ofdoing either one or the other, he commenced sliding down the slipperysurface of the leviathan's body, where it shelved towards the water. 

Good heavens! what was to become of him? A score of sharks were justbelow, --waiting for him with hungry jaws, and eyes glancing greedilyupward. Seeing the two men mounted upon the carcass of the whale, andone wielding an axe, they had gathered upon that side, --in the beliefthat the _flensing_ was about to begin!

It was a slight circumstance that saved the sea-cook from being eatenup, --not only raw, but alive. Simply the circumstance of his havingheld on to the harpoon. Had he dropped that weapon on falling, it wouldnever have been grasped by him again. Fortunately, he had the presenceof mind to hold on to it; or perhaps the tenacity was merely mechanical. Whatever may have been the reason, he _did_ hold on. Fortunately, also, he was gliding down on the side _opposite_ to that on whichfloated the "drogue. "

These two circumstances saved him. 

When about half-way to the water, --and still sliding rapidlydownwards, --his progress was suddenly arrested, or rather impeded, --forhe was not altogether brought to a stop, --by a circumstance asunexpected as it was fortunate. That was the tightening of the lineattached to the handle of the harpoon. He had slidden to the end of histether, --the other end of which was fast to the drogue drifting about inthe sea, as already said, on the opposite side of the carcass. 

Heavy as was the piece of wood, --and offering, as it did, a considerableamount of resistance in being dragged through the water, --it would nothave been sufficient to sustain the huge body of the Coromantee. Itonly checked the rapidity of his descent; and in the end he would havegone down into the sea, --and shortly after into the stomachs of, perhaps, half a score of sharks, --but for the opportune interference ofthe ex-man-o'-war's-man; who, just in the nick of time, --at the verymoment when Snowball's toes were within six inches of the water's edge, caught hold of the cord and arrested his farther descent. 

But although the sailor had been able to accomplish this much, and wasalso able to keep Snowball from slipping farther down, he soondiscovered that he was unable to pull him up again. It was just as muchas his strength was equal to, --even when supplemented by the weight ofthe drogue, --to keep the sea-cook in the place where he had succeeded inchecking him. There hung Snowball in suspense, --holding on to theslippery skin of the _cachalot_, literally "with tooth and toe-nail. "

Snowball saw that his position was perilous, --more than that: it wasfrightful. He could hear noises beneath him, --the rushing of the sharksthrough the water. He glanced apprehensively below. He could see theirblack triangular fins, and note the lurid gleaming of their eyeballs, asthey rolled in their sunken sockets. It was a sight to terrify thestoutest heart; and that of Snowball did not escape being terrified. 

"Hole on, Massa Brace!" he instinctively shouted. "Hole on, for de lubo' God! Doan't leab me slip an inch, or dese dam brute sure cotch holdob me! Fo' de lub o' de great Gorramity, hole on!"

Ben needed not the stimulus of this pathetic appeal. He was holding onto the utmost of his strength. He could not have added another pound tothe pull. He dared not even renew either his attitude, or the grip hehad upon the rope. The slightest movement he might make would endangerthe life of his black-skinned comrade. 

A slackening of the cord, even to the extent of twelve inches, wouldhave been fatal to the feet of Snowball--already within six of thesurface of the water and the snouts of the sharks!

Perhaps never in all his checkered career had the life of the negro beensuspended in such dangerous balance. The slightest circumstance wouldhave disturbed the equilibrium, --an ounce would have turned the scale, --and delivered him into the jaws of death. 

It is scarcely necessary to conjecture what would ultimately have beenthe end of this perilous adventure, had the sailor and sea-cook beenpermitted to terminate it between themselves. The strength of theformer was each instant decreasing; while the weight of the latter, --nowmore feebly clinging to the slippery epidermis of the whale, --was inlike proportion becoming greater. 

With nothing to intervene, the result might be easily guessed. Infigurative parlance Snowball must have "gone overboard. "

But his time was not yet come; and his comrade knew this, when a pair ofhands, --small, but strong ones, --were seen grasping the cord, alongsideof his own. They were the hands of Little Will'm!

At the earliest moment, after Snowball had slipped and fallen, the ladhad perceived his peril; and "swarming" up by the flipper of the whale, had hurried to the assistance of Ben, laying hold of the rope, --not onesecond too soon. 

It was soon enough, however, to save the suspended Coromantee; whosebody, now yielding to the united strength of the two, was drawn up theslippery slope, --slowly, but surely, --until it rested upon the broadhorizontal space around the summit of that mountain of bones andblubber. 

CHAPTER SIXTY THREE. 

A HARPOON WELL HANDLED. 

It was some time before either his breath or the tranquillity of hisspirits was restored to the Coromantee. 

The sailor was equally suffering from the loss of the former; and bothremained for a good many minutes without taking any further stepstowards the accomplishment of the design which had brought them on theback 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 hadhindered 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 onewho had been instrumental in aiding him. 

He stood gazing upon the youth with eyes that expressed a livelysatisfaction. 

The promptitude and prowess which his _protege_ had exhibited in theaffair was to him a source of the greatest gratification. 

Many a boy old as he, --ay, older, thought Ben Brace, --instead of havingthe sense shown by the lad in promptly running to the rescue, would haveremained upon the raft in mute surprise; or, at the best, have evincedhis sympathy by a series of unserviceable shouts, or a continued andidle screaming. 

Ben did not wish to spoil his _protege_ by any spoken formula of praise, and therefore he said nothing: though, from his glances directed towardslittle William, it was easy to see that the bosom of the brave tar wasswelling with a fond pride in the youth, for whom he had long felt anaffection almost equalling that of a father. 

After indulging a short while in the mutual congratulations thatnaturally follow such a crisis of danger, all three proceeded to theexecution of the duty so unexpectedly interrupted. 

William had succeeded Snowball in that simple culinary operation whichthe latter, commanded by his captain, had so suddenly relinquished. 

The lad now returned to the raft, partly to complete the process ofbroiling the fish; but perhaps with a greater desire to tranquillise thefears of Lilly Lalee, --who, ignorant of the exact upshot of what hadtranspired, was yet in a state of unpleasant agitation. 

Ben only waited for the return of his breath; and as soon as that wasfairly restored to him, he once more set about the design that hadcaused him for the second time to climb upon the back of the _cachalot_. 

Taking the harpoon from the hands of the Coromantee, --who still keptclutching it, as if there was danger in letting it go, --the sailorproceeded to draw up the drogue. Assisted by Snowball, he soon raisedit out of the water, and hoisted it to the horizontal platform, on whichthey 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 thecarcass. 

Armed with the harpoon, the _ci-devant_ whaleman now took a survey, --notof the land, but of the sea around him. 

There was an assemblage of sharks close in to the body of the whale, --atthe spot where they had so lately threatened Snowball. 

Some of them had since scattered away, with a full consciousness oftheir disappointment; but the greater number had stayed, as ifunsatisfied, or expecting that the banquet that had been so near theirnoses might be brought back to them. 

Ben's purpose was to harpoon some half-dozen of these ill-featureddenizens of the deep, and with their flesh replenish the stores of the_Catamaran_; for repulsive as the brutes may appear to the eye, andrepugnant to the thoughts, they nevertheless, --that is, certain speciesof them, and certain parts of these species, --afford excellent food:such as an epicure, --to say nothing of a man half-famished, --may eatwith sufficient relish. 

There could have been no difficulty in destroying any of the sharks solate threatening to swallow Snowball, had the harpooner been able to getwithin striking distance of them. But the slippery skin of the whaledeterred the sailor from trusting himself on that dangerous incline; andhe determined, therefore, to try elsewhere. 

In the direction of the _cachalot's_ tail the descent was gradual. Scarcely perceptible was its declination towards the water, upon whichlay the two great flukes, slightly sunk below the surface, and extendingon 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 whalemanknew 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 thesharp edge of the harpoon blade; he cut out a number of holes in thespongy skin, in order to give both himself and his follower a more surefooting 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 withmore care. At length, satisfied with his preparations, he stood, withpointed harpoon, waiting for we of the sharks to come within strikingdistance. They "fought shy" at first; but the old whaleman knew a wayof overcoming their shyness. It only required that "chunk" of blubber, held in the hands of Snowball, to be thrown into the water, andsimultaneous 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 carcassof the whale, --the sharks came charging towards it, --nearly twenty ofthem. The same number, however, did not go back as they had come; forone of them, impaled by the harpoon of Ben Brace, was dragged out of hisnative element, and hauled up the well-greased incline towards thehighest point on the carcass of the _cachalot_. 

There, notwithstanding his struggles and the desperate as well asdangerous fluking of his posterior fins, he was soon despatched by theaxe, wielded with all the might and dexterity which the Coromantee couldcommand. 

Another shark was "hooked, " and then despatched in a similar fashion;and then another and another, until Ben Brace believed that enoughshark-flesh had been obtained to furnish the _Catamaran_ with stores forthe most prolonged voyage. 

At all events, they would now have food--such as it was--to last as longas the water with which the hand of Providence alone seemed to haveprovided them. 

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR. 

THE THICK WATERS. 

The most palatable portions of the sharks' flesh having been strippedfrom the bones and cut into thin slices, were now to be submitted to adrying, or rather broiling process. This was to be accomplished by afire of spermaceti. 

As already stated, there was no scarcity on the score of this fuel. The"case" of the _cachalot_ contained enough to have roasted all the sharkswithin a circle of ten mile around it; and, to all appearance, therewere hundreds of them inside that circumference. Indeed, that part ofthe 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 formiles 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, --someof them, every now and then, exhibiting their uncouth gambols. Shoalsof porpoises, albacores, bonitos, and other gregarious fishes willappear in the same place, --each kind in pursuit of its favourite prey, while sharks, threshers, and sword-fish, accompanied by their "pilots"and "suckers, " though in lesser numbers, here also abound, --from thevery abundance of the species on which these sea-monsters subsist"Flocks" of flying-fish sparkle in the sun with troops of bonitosgliding watchful below, while above them the sky will sometimes beliterally clouded with predatory birds, --gulls, boobies, gannets, tropicand frigate-birds, albatrosses, and a score of other kinds but littleknown, and as yet undescribed by the naturalist. 

It may be asked why so many creatures of different kinds congregate inthis part of the ocean? Upon what do they subsist? what food can theyfind so far from land?

A ready reply to these questions may be given, by saying, that theysubsist upon each other; and this would be, to some extent, true. Butthen there must be a base forming the food for all, and produced by someprocess of nature. What process can be going on in the midst of theocean to furnish the subsistence of such myriads of large and voraciouscreatures? In the waters of the great deep, apparently so pure andclear, 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-wateritself contains the germs of material substances, that sustain life, orbecome, themselves, living things, by what appears, to our ignoranteyes, spontaneous production. 

There is no spontaneity in the matter. It is simply the principle ofcreation, and acting under laws and by ways that, however ill-understoodby us, have existed from the beginning of the world. 

It is true that the whole extent of the great oceans are not thusthickly peopled. Vast tracts may be traversed, where both fish andbirds of all kinds are extremely scarce; and a ship may sail for dayswithout seeing an individual of either kind. A hundred miles may bepassed over, and the eye may not be gratified by the sight of a livingthing, --either in the water or the air. These tracts may truly betermed the deserts of the sea; like those of the land, apparentlyuninhabited 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 teemwith life are variable in this respect, --sometimes only a few fathoms inprofundity, and sometime unfathomable. 

The true explanation must be sought for elsewhere. It will be found notin _depth_, but in _direction_, --in the direction of the currents. 

Every one knows that the great oceans are intersected here and there bycurrents, --often hundreds of miles in breadth, but sometimes narrowingto a width of as many "knots. " These oceanic streams are regular, though not regularly defined. They are not caused by mere temporarystorms, but by winds having a constant and regular direction; as the"trades" in the Atlantic and Pacific, the "monsoons" in the IndianOcean, the "pamperos" of South America, and the "northers" of theMexican Gulf. 

There is another cause for these currents, perhaps of more powerfulinfluence than the winds, yet less taken into account. It is the_spinning_ of the earth on its axis. Undoubtedly are the "trades"indebted to this for their direction towards the west, --the simplecentrifugal tendency of the atmosphere. Otherwise, would these windsblow due northward and southward, coming into collision on the line ofthe equator. 

But it is not my purpose to attempt a dissertation either on winds oroceanic streams. I am not learned enough for this, though enough toknow that great misconception prevails on this subject, as well as uponthat of the _tides_; and that meteorologists have not given due creditto the revolving motion of our planet, which is in truth the principalproducer of these phenomena. 

Why I have introduced the subject at all is, not because our little bookis peculiarly a book of the ocean, but, because that ocean currents havemuch to do with "Ocean Waifs, " and that these last afford the trueexplanation of the phenomenon first-mentioned, --the fact that some partsof the ocean teem with animal life, while others are as dead as adesert. The currents account for it, thus:--where two of them meet, --asis often the case, --vast quantities of material substances, bothvegetable and animal, are drifted together; where they are held, to acertain extent, stationary; or circling around in great _ocean eddies_. The wrack of sea-weed, --waifs from the distant shores, --birds that havefallen lifeless into the ocean, or drop their excrement to float on itssurface, --fish that have died of disease, violence, or naturally, --forthe finny tribes are not exempt from the natural laws of decay anddeath, --all these organisms, drifted by the currents, meet upon theneutral "ground, "--there to float about, and furnish food to myriads ofliving creatures, --many species of which are, to all appearance, scarceorganised more highly than the decomposed matters that appear first togive them life, and afterwards sustain their existence. 

In such tracts of the ocean are found the lower marine animals, inincalculable numbers; the floating shell-fish, as _Janthina_, _Hyalaea_and _Cleodora_; the sea-lizards, as _Velellae, Porpitae_, and theirkindred; the squids, and other molluscs; with myriads of _medusa_. 

These are the oceanic regions known to the sailors as "thick waters, "the favourite resort of the whale and its concomitant creatures, whosefood they furnish; the shark, and its attendants; the dolphins, porpoises, sword-fish and flying-fish; with other denizens of the water;and a like variety of dwellers in the air, hovering above the surface, either as the enemies of those below, or aids to assist them incomposing the inscrutable "chain of destruction. "

CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE. 

A WHALE ON FIRE!

Perhaps we have _drifted_ too far adown the currents of the ocean. Fromour digression let us return to out special "Waifs. " We left themmaking preparations to roast the shark-flesh, --not in single steaks, butin a wholesale fashion, --as if they had intended to prepare a "fishdinner" for the full crew of a frigate. 

As already stated, fuel they had in sufficiency; or, at all events, thebest of oil, that would serve as such. The spermaceti could not bereadily kindled, nor its blaze kept up, without wicks. But neither wasthere any difficulty about this. There was a quantity of old rope trashon the raft, which had been fished up among the wreck of the _Pandora_, and kept in case of an emergency. It needed only to restore this to itsoriginal state of tarry fibre, when they would be provided with wickenough to keep the lamp long burning. It was the lamp itself, or ratherthe cooking furnace, that caused them uneasiness. They had none. Thetiny tin vessel that had already served for a single meal would never dofor the grand _roti_ they now designed making. With it, along with timeand patience, they might have accomplished the task; but time to themwas too precious to be so wasted; and as to patience, --circumstanced asthey were, it could scarcely be expected. 

They stood in great need of a cooking-stove. There was nothing on boardthe _Catamaran_ that could be used as a substitute. Indeed, to havekindled such a fire as they wanted on the raft, --without a propermaterial for their hearth, --would have seriously endangered theexistence of the craft; and might have terminated in a conflagration. 

It was a dilemma that had not suggested itself sooner--that is, untilthe shark-steaks had been made ready for roasting. Then it presenteditself to their contemplation in full force, and apparently without anyloophole to escape from it. 

What was to be done for a cooking-stove?

Snowball sighed as he thought of his caboose, with all its paraphernaliaof pots and pans, --especially his great copper, in which he had beenaccustomed to boil mountains of meat and oceans of pea-soup. 

But Snowball was not the individual to give way to vain regrets, --atleast, not for long. Despite that absence of that superior intellect, --which flippant gossips of so-called a "Social Science" delight indenying to his race, themselves often less gifted than he, --Snowball wasendowed with rare ingenuity, --especially in matters relating to the_cuisine_, and in less than ten minutes after the question of acooking-stove had been started, the Coromantee conceived the idea of onethat might have vied with any of the various "patents" so loudlyextolled by the ironmongers, and yet not so effective when submitted tothe test. At all events, Snowball's plan was suited to thecircumstances in which its contriver was placed; and perhaps it was theonly one which the circumstances would have allowed. 

Unlike other inventors, the Coromantee proclaimed the plan of hisinvention as soon as he had conceived it. 

"Wha' for?" he asked, as the idea shaped itself in his skull, --"wha' forwe trouble 'bout a pot fo' burn de oil?"

"What for, Snowy!" echoed the sailor, turning upon his interrogator anexpectant look. 

"Why we no make de fire up hya?"

The conversation was carried on upon the back of the whale, --where thesharks had been butchered and cut up. 

"Up here!" again echoed the sailor, still showing surprise. "Whatmatter whether it be up here or down theear, so long's we've got novessel, --neyther pot nor pan?"

"Doan care a dam fo' neyder, " responded the ex-cook. "I'se soon showye, Mass' Brace, how we find vessel, big 'nuff to hold all de oil in dekarkiss ob de ole cashlot, as you call him. "

"Explain, nigger, explain!"

"Sartin I do. Gib me dat axe. I soon 'splain de whole sarkumstance. "

Ben passed the axe, which he had been holding, into the hands of theCoromantee. 

The latter, as he had promised, soon made his meaning clear, by settingto work upon the carcass of the _cachalot_, and with less than a dozenblows of the sharp-edged tool hollowing out a large cavity in theblubber. 

"Now, Mass' Brace, " cried he, when he had finished, triumphantlybalancing the axe above his shoulder, "wha' you call dat? Dar's a lamphold all de oil we want set blaze. You d'sire me `crow' de hole anywida or deepa, I soon make 'im deep's a draw-well an' wide as de trackob a waggon. Wha' say, Mass' Brace?"

"Hurraw for you, Snowy! It be just the thing. I dar say it's deepenough, and wide as we'll want it. You ha got good brains, nigger, --not'ithstanding what them lubbers as they call filosaphurs say. I'm awhite, an' niver thought o' it. This'll 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 wittlesat once. "

The cavity, which Snowball had "crowed" in the carcass of the whale wassoon filled with oil taken from the case. In this was inserted with duecare a quantity of the fibre, obtained by "picking" the old ropes intooakum. 

A crane was next erected over the cavity, --a handspike forming onesupport and an oar the other. The crane itself consisted of the longiron arrow and socket of one of the harpoons found in the carcass of the_cachalot_. 

Upon this was suspended, as upon a spit, so many slices of shark-meat ascould be accommodated with room, and when all was arranged, a "taper"was handed up from below, and the wick set on fire. 

The tarry strands caught like tinder; and soon after a fierce brightblaze was seen rising several feet above the back of the _cachalot_, --causing the shark-steaks to frizzle and fry, and promising in a veryshort space of time to "do them to a turn. "

Any one who could have witnessed the spectacle from distance, and notunderstanding its nature, might have fancied that the _whale was onfire_!

CHAPTER SIXTY SIX. 

THE BIG RAFT. 

While the strange phenomenon of a blazing fire upon the back of a whalewas being exhibited to the eyes of ocean-birds and ocean-fishes, --alldoubtless wondering what it meant, --another and very different spectaclewas occurring scarce twenty miles from the spot, --of course also uponthe surface of the ocean. 

If in the former there was something that might be called comic, therewas nothing of this in the latter. On the contrary, it was a truetragedy, --a drama of death. 

The stage upon which it was being enacted was a platform of planks andspars, rudely united together, --in short, a raft. The _dramatispersona_ were men, --all men; although it might have required somestretch of imagination, --aided by a little acquaintanceship with thecircumstances that had placed them upon that raft, --to have been certainthat they were human beings. A stranger to them, looking upon them inreality, --or upon a picture, giving a faithful representation of them, --might have doubted their humanity, and mistaken them for _fiends_. Noone could have been blamed for such a misconception. 

If human beings in shape, and so in reality, they were fiends in aspect, and not far from it in mental conformation. Even in appearance theywere more like skeletons than men. One actually was a skeleton, --not aliving skeleton, but a corpse, clean-stripped of its flesh. Theensanguined bones, with some fragments of the cartilage still adheringto them, showed that the despoliation had been recent. The skeleton wasnot perfect. Some of the bones were absent. A few were lying near onthe timbers of the raft, and a few others might have been seen in placeswhere it was horrible to behold them!

The raft was an oblong platform of some twenty feet in length by aboutfifteen in width. It was constructed out of pieces of broken masts andspars of a ship, upon which was supported an irregular sheeting ofplanks, the fragments of bulwarks, hatches, cabin-doors that had beenwrested from their hinges, lids of tea-chests, coops, and a few otherarticles, --such as form the paraphernalia of movables on board a ship. There was a large hogshead with two or three small barrels upon theraft; and around its edge were lashed several empty casks, serving asbuoys to keep it above water. A single spar stood up out of its centre, or "midships, " to which was rigged--in a very slovenly manner--a largelateen sail, --either the spanker or spritsail of a ship, or the mizzentopsail of a bark. 

Around the "step" of the mast a variety of other objects might have beenseen: such as oars, handspikes, pieces of loose boards, some tangledcoils of rope, an axe or two, half a dozen tin pots and "tots, "--such asare used by sailors, --a quantity of shark-bones clean picked, with twoor three other bones, like those already alluded to, and whose size andform told them to be the _tibia_ of a human skeleton. 

Between twenty and thirty men were moving amid this miscellaneouscollection, --not all moving: for they were in every conceivableattitude, of repose as of action. Some were seated, some lyingstretched, some standing, some staggering, --as if reeling under theinfluence of intoxication, or too feeble to support their bodies in anerect attitude. It was not any rocking on the part of the raft that wasproducing 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, wherestood a barrel or cask of medium size, from which proceeded anexhalation, telling its contents to be rum. 

The staggering skeletons were _drunk_!

It was not that noisy intoxication that tells of recent indulgence, butrather of the nervous wreck which succeeds it; and the words heard, instead of being the loud banterings of inebriated men, were more likethe ravings and gibbering of maniacs. No wonder: since they who utteredthem _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 samedisease, --at least on board that embarkation. Not from any virtuousresolve on their parts, but simply from the fact that the cause of theirinsanity no longer existed. 

The rum-cask was as dry inside as out. There was no longer a drop ofthe infernal liquor on the raft; no more spirit of any kind to producefresh drunkenness or renewed _delirium tremens_!

The madmen were not heeded by the others; but allowed to totter about, and give speech to their incoherent mumblings!--sometimes diversified byyells, or peals of mania laughter, --always thickly interlarded withoaths and other blasphemous utterances. 

It was only when disturbing the repose of some one less _exalted_ thanthemselves, or when two of them chanced to come into collision, that ascene would ensue, --in some instances extending to almost everyindividual on the raft, and ending by one or other of the deliriousdisputants getting "chucked" into the sea, and having a swim beforerecovering foothold on the frail embarkation. This the duckedindividual would be certain to do. Drunk as he might have been, andmaudlin as he might be, his instincts were never so benumbed as torender him regardless of self-preservation. Even from out his haggardeyes still gleamed enough of intelligence to tell that those darktriangular objects, moving in scores around the raft, and cutting thewater, 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 restore hisreason to the delirious individual, --or, at all events, would have theeffect of restoring tranquillity upon the raft, --soon after to bedisturbed by some scene of like, or perhaps more terrible, activity. 

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The reader, unacquainted with the history of this raft and the peopleupon it, may require some information concerning them. A few words mustsuffice for both. 

As already stated, at the beginning of our narrative, a raft wasconstructed out of such timbers as could be detached from the slave-bark_Pandora_, --after that vessel had caught fire, and previous to herblowing 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, alongwith five others, --including the mates and carpenter, --had stolen awaywith the gig. As this was the only boat found available in the fearfulcrisis of the conflagration, the remainder of the crew had betakenthemselves to the large raft, hurriedly constructed for the occasion. 

As already related, Snowball and the Portuguese girl were the onlyindividuals on board the _Pandora_ who had remained by the wreck, orrather among its _debris_. There the Coromantee, by great courage andcunning, had succeeded not only in keeping himself and his _protege_afloat, but in establishing a chance for sustaining existence, calculated to last for some days. It is known also that Ben Brace with_his protege_, having been informed by the captain's parting speech thatthere was a barrel of gunpowder aboard the burning bark, apprehensive ofthe 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 beenafterwards cut loose from its larger companion in the dead hour ofnight, and permitted to fall far into the wake. The reason of thisdefection was simply to save little William from being eaten up by theex-crew of the _Pandora_, then reduced to a famished condition, --if wemay use the phrase, screwed up to the standard of anthropophagy. 

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 ofthe lesser: how it joined issue with the embarkation that carried theex-cook and his _protege_; how the union with the latter produced across between the two, --afterwards yclept the _Catamaran_; with all theparticulars of the _Catamaran's_ voyage, up to the time when she becamemoored alongside the carcass of the _cachalot_; and for several daysafter. 

During this time, the "big raft" carrying the crew of tin burnt bark, --being out of sight, may also have escaped from the reader's mind. Bothit and its occupants were still in existence. Not all of them, it istrue, but the greater number; and among these, the most prominent instrength of body, energy of mind; and wickedness of disposition. 

It is scarce necessary to say, that the raft now introduced as lyingupon the ocean some twenty miles from the dead _cachalot_ was that whichsome days before had parted from the _Pandora_, or that the fiendishforms that occupied it were the remnant of the _Pandora's_ crew. 

These were not all there: nearly a score of them were absent. Theabsence of the captain, with five others who had accompanied him in hisgig, has been explained. The ex-cook, the English sailor andsailor-boy, with the cabin passenger, Lilly Lalee, have also beenaccounted for; but there were several others aboard the big raft, on itsfirst starting "to sea, " that were no longer to be seen amidst the crowdstill occupying this ungainly embarkation. Half a dozen, --perhapsmore, --seemed to be missing. Their absence might have appearedmysterious, to anyone who had not been kept "posted" up in theparticulars of the ill-directed cruise through which the raft had beenpassing; though the skeleton above described, and the dissevered _tibia_scattered around, might have given a clew to their disappearance, --atleast, to anyone initiated into the shifts and extremities ofstarvation. 

To those of less experience, --or less quick comprehension, --it may benecessary to repeat the conversation which was being carried on upon theraft, --at the moment when it is thus reintroduced to the notice of thereader. A correct report of this will satisfactorily explain why itsoriginal crew had been reduced, from over thirty, to the number ofsix-and-twenty, exclusive of the skeleton!

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN. 

A CREW OF CANNIBALS. 

"_Allons_!" cried a black-bearded man, in whose emaciated frame it wasnot easy to recognise the once corpulent bully of the slave-ship, --theFrenchman, Le Gros. "_Allons! messieurs_! It's time to try fortuneagain. _Sacre_! we must eat, or die!"

The question may be asked, What were these men to eat? There appearedto be no food upon the raft. There _was_ none, --not a morsel of anykind 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 sideof the burning bark. A small box of sea-biscuits, that, whendistributed, gave only two to each man, was all that had been saved intheir hurried retreat from the decks of the _Pandora_. These haddisappeared in a day. They had brought away water in greater abundance, and caught some since in their shirts, and on the spread sail, --nearlyafter the same fashion and in the same rain-storm that had afforded thewell-timed supply to Ben Brace and his _protege_. 

But the stock derived from both sources was on the eve of beingexhausted. 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 morefrom the kindred appetite of hunger. 

What did Le Gros mean when he said they must eat? What food was thereon the raft, to enable them to avoid the terrible alternative appendedto his proposal, --"eat, or die"! What _had_ kept them from dying: sinceit was now many days, almost weeks, since they had swallowed the lastmorsel of biscuit so sparingly distributed amongst them?

The answer to all these interrogatories is one and the some. It is toofearful to be pronounced, --awful even to think of!

The clean-stripped skeleton lying upon the raft, and which was clearlythat of a human being; the bones scattered about, --some of them, asalready observed, held in hand, and in such fashion as to show thehorrid use that was being made of them, --left no doubt as to the natureof the food upon which the hungering wretches had been subsisting. 

This, and the flesh of a small shark, which they had succeeded in luringalongside, and killing with the blow of a handspike, had been their onlyprovision since parting with the _Pandora_. There were sharks enougharound them now. A score, at the very least, might have been quarteringthe sea, within sight of the raft; but these monsters, strange to say, were so shy, that not one of them would approach near enough to allowthem an opportunity of capturing it! Every attempt to take them hadproved unsuccessful. Such of the crew as kept sober had been trying fordays. Some were even at that moment engaged with hook and line, anglingfor the ferocious fish, --their hooks floating far out in the water, baited with _human flesh_. 

It was only the mechanical continuation of a scheme that had long sinceproved to be of no avail, --a sort of despairing struggle againstimprobability. The sharks had taken the alarm; perhaps from observingthe fate of that one of their number that had gone too near the oddembarkation; or, perhaps, warned by some mysterious instinct, that, sooner or later, they would make a grand banquet on those who were soeager to feast upon them. 

In any case, no sharks had been taken, or were likely to be taken; andonce more the eyes of the famishing castaways were wolfishly turned uponone another, while their thoughts reverted to that horrible alternativethat was to save them from starvation. 

Le Gros--on board the raft, as upon the deck of the slave-ship--stillheld a sort of fatal ascendency over his comrades; and with Ben Brace nolonger to oppose his despotic propensities, he had established over hisfellow-skeletons a species of arbitrary rule. 

His conduct had all along been guided by no more regard for fair-playthan was just necessary to keep his subordinates from breaking out intoopen mutiny; and among these the weaker ones fared even worse than theirfellows, bad as that was. 

A few of the stronger, --who formed a sort of bodyguard to the bully, andwere ready to stand up for him in case of extremity, --shared hisascendency over the rest; and to these were distributed larger rationsof water, along with the more choice morsels of their horrid food. 

This partiality had more than once led to scenes, that promised to endin bloodshed; and but for this occasional show of resistance, Le Grosand his party might have established a tyranny that would have giventhem full power over the _lives_ of their feebler companions. 

Things were fast tending in this direction, --merging, as it were, intoabsolute monarchy, --a monarchy of "cannibals, " of which Le Gros himselfwould be "king. " It had not yet, however, quite come to that, --at leastwhen it became a question of life and death. When the necessity aroseof finding a fresh victim for their horrible but necessary sacrifice, there was still enough republicanism left among the wretches toinfluence the decision in a just and equitable manner, and cause theselection to be made by lot. When it comes to crises like these, --toquestions of life and death, --men must yield up their opposition to the_ballot_, and acknowledge its equity. 

Le Gros and his cruel bodyguard would have opposed it had they beenstrong enough, --as do equally cruel politicians who are strong enough, --but the bully still doubted the strength of his party. A proposal soatrocious had beep made, in the case of little William, at the veryoutset, and had met with but slight opposition. Had it not been for thebrave English sailor, the lad would certainly have fallen a sacrifice tothe horrid appetites of these horrid men. With one of themselves, however, the case was different. Each had a few adherents, who wouldnot have submitted to such an arbitrary cruelty; and Le Gros wasinfluenced by the fear of a general "skrimmage, " in which more than onelife, --among the rest perhaps his own, --might be forfeited. The timefor such a high-handed measure had not yet arrived; and when it came tothe question of "Who dies next?" it was still found necessary to resortto the _ballot_. 

That question was once more propounded, --now for the third time, --LeGros himself acting as the spokesman. No one said anything in reply, ormade any sign of being opposed to an answer being given. On thecontrary, all appeared to yield, if not a cheerful, at least a tacitassent to what they all knew to be meant for a proposal, --knowing alsoits fearful nature and consequences. 

They also comprehended whence the answer was to come. Twice before hadthey consulted that dread oracle, whose response was certain death toone of their number. Twice before had they recognised and submitted toits decree. No preliminaries needed to be discussed. These had beenlong 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 visibleamong the men to whom it was addressed. One might have expected it tostartle them; but it did not appear to do this, --at least, to any greatextent. Some only showed those signs of fear distinguishable byblanched cheeks and white lips; but there were some too delirious tounderstand the full import of what was to follow; and the majority ofthe crew had become too callow with suffering to care much even forlife!

Most that could, however, --for there were some too feeble to standerect, --rose to their feet, and gathered around the challenger, exhibiting both in their words and attitudes, an earnestness that toldthem not altogether indifferent to death. 

By a sort of tacit agreement among them, Le Gros acted as master of theceremonies, --the dispenser of that dread lottery of life and death, inwhich he himself was to take a share. Two or three of his fellows stoodon each side of him, acting as aids or _croupiers_. 

Solemn and momentous as was the question to be decided, the mode ofdecision was simple in the extreme. Le Gros held in his hand a canvasbag, of oblong bolster shape, --such as sailors use to carry their sparesuit of "Sunday go-ashores. " In the bottom of this bag, --alreadycarefully counted into it, --were twenty-six buttons: the exact number ofthose who were to take part in the drawing. They were the common blackbuttons of horn, --each pierced with four holes, --such as may be seenupon the jacket of the merchant sailor. They had been cut from theirown garments for the purpose in which they were now, a third time, to beemployed, and all chosen so exactly alike, that even the eye would havefound it difficult to distinguish one from the other. One, however, offered an exception to this statement. While all its fellows were jetblack, it exhibited a reddish hue, --a dark crimson, --as if it had beendefiled with blood. And so it had been; stained on purpose, --that forwhich it was to be employed, --to be the exponent of the _prize_, in thatlottery of blood, of which its colour was an appropriate emblem. 

The difference between it and the others was not perceptible to thetouch. The fingers of a man born blind could not have distinguished itamong the rest, --much less the callous and tar-bedaubed "claws" of asailor. 

The red button was cast into the bag along with the others. "_He whoshould draw it forth must die_. "

As we have said, there was no settling about preliminaries, no talkingabout choice as to the time of drawing. These matters had beendiscussed before, both openly and by secret mental calculations. Allhad arrived at the conclusion that the chances were even, and that itcould make no difference in the event as to whose fate was firstdecided. The red button might be the last in the bag, or it might bethe first drawn out of it. 

Under this impression, no one hesitated to inaugurate the dread ceremonyof the drawing; and as soon as Le Gros held out the bag, --just openenough to admit a hand, --a man stepped up, and, with an air of recklessindifference, plunged his arm into the opening!

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT. 

THE LOTTERY OF LIFE AND DEATH. 

One by one the buttons were drawn forth from the bag, --each man, as hedrew his, exhibiting it in his open palm, to satisfy the others as toits colour, and then placing it in a common receptacle, --against thecontingency of its being required again for another like lottery!

Solemn as was the character of the ceremony, it was not conducted eitherin solemnity or silence. Many of the wretches even jested while it wasin progress; and a stranger to the dread conditions under which thedrawing was being made might have supposed it a raffle for some triflingprize!

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 fingers, as they inserted them into the bag, proclaimed an apprehension stronger than could have arisen from any merecourting of chance in an ordinary casting of lots. 

Those men who were noisiest and most gleeful _after_ they had drawn werethe ones who before it had shown the strongest signs of fear, and whotrembled most while performing the operation. 

Some of them could not conceal even their demoniac joy at having drawnblank, but danced about over the raft as if they had suddenly succeededto some splendid fortune. 

The difference between this singular lottery and most others, was thatthe blanks were the prizes, --the prize itself being the true blank, --theending of existence. 

Le Gros continued to hold the bag, and with an air of nonchalance;though anyone closely observing his countenance could tell that it wasassumed. As had been already proved, the French bully was at heart acoward. Under the influence of angry passion, or excited by a desirefor revenge, he could show fight, and even fling himself into positionsof danger; but in a contest such as that in which he was now engaged acool strife, in which Fortune was his only antagonist, and in which hecould derive no advantage from any unfair subterfuge, his artificialcourage had entirely forsaken him. 

So long as the lottery was in its earlier stages, and only a few buttonshad been taken out of the bag, he preserved his assumed air ofindifference. There were still many chances of life against that one ofdeath, --nearly twenty to one. As the drawing proceeded, however, andone after another exhibited his black button, a change could be observedpassing over the features of the Frenchman. His apparent _sangfroid_began to forsake him; while his glances betokened a feverish excitement, fast hastening towards apprehension. 

As each fresh hand came up out of the dark receptacle bearing theevidence of its owner's fate, Le Gros was seen to cast hurried andanxious glances towards the tiny circle of horn, held between the thumband forefinger, and each time that he saw the colour to be black hiscountenance appeared to darken at the sight. 

When the twentieth button had been brought forth, and still the red oneremained in the bag, the master of the ceremonies became fearfullyexcited. He could no longer conceal his apprehension. His chances oflife 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 bedisposed of. 

At this crisis, Le Gros interrupted the drawing to reflect. Would he bein a better position, if some one else held the bag? Perhaps that mightchange the run of luck hitherto against him; and which he had beencursing with all his might ever since the number had been going throughthe teens. He had tried every way he could think of to tempt the redticket out of the bag. He had shaken the buttons time after time, --inhopes of bringing it to the top, or in some position that might insureits being taken up. But all to no purpose. It would obstinately stayto the last. 

What difference could it make were he to hand the bag over to some otherholder, and try his luck for the twenty-first chance? "Not any!" wasthe mental reply he received to this mental inquiry. Better for him tohold on as he had been doing. It was hardly possible--at least highlyimprobable--that the red button should be the last. There had beentwenty-five chances to one against its being so. It is true twentyblack buttons had been drawn out before it, --in a most unexpectedmanner, --still it was as likely to come next as any of the remainingsix. 

It would be of no use changing the process, --so concluded he, in his ownmind, --and, with an air of affected recklessness, the Frenchmansignified to those around him that he was ready to continue the drawing. 

Another man drew forth Number 21. Like those preceding it, the button, was black!

Number 22 was fished out of the bag, --black also!

23 and 24 were of the like hue!

But two buttons now remained, --two men only 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 themmust become food for their cannibal comrades!

It would scarce be true to say that the interest increased as the dreadlottery progressed towards its ending. Its peculiar conditions hadsecured an interest from the first as intense as it was possible for itto be. It only became changed in character, --less selfish, if we mayuse the phrase, --as each individual escaped from the dangerouscontingency involved in the operation. As the drawing approached itstermination, the anxiety about the result, though less painful to themajority of the men, was far more so to the few whose fate still hungsuspended in the scale; and this feeling became more intensified in thebreasts of the still smaller number, who saw their chances of safetybecoming constantly diminished. When, at length, only two buttonsremained in the bag, and only two men to draw them out, the interest, though changed in character, was nevertheless sufficiently exciting tofix the attention of every individual on the raft. 

There were circumstances, apart from the mere drawing, that influencedthis attention. Fate itself seemed to be taking a part in the dreaddrama; or, if not, a very singular contingency had occurred. 

Between the two men, thus left to decide its decree, there existed arivalry, --or, rather, might it be called a positive antipathy, --deadlyas any _vendetta_ ever enacted on Corsican soil. 

It had not sprung up on the raft. It was of older date--old as theearliest days of the _Pandora's_ voyage, on whose decks it hadoriginated. 

Its first seeds had been sown in that quarrel between Le Gros and BenBrace, --in which the Frenchman had been so ignominiously defeated. TheIrish sailor, --partly from some slight feeling of co-nationality, andpartly from a natural instinct of fair-play, --had taken sides with theBritish tar; and, as a consequence, had invoked the hostility of theFrenchman. This feeling he had reciprocated to its full extent; andfrom 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 onevery occasion that might offer. Even Ben Brace was no longer regardedwith as much dislike. For him the Frenchman had been taught, if notfriendship, at least, a certain respect, springing from fear; and, instead of continuing his jealous rivalry towards the English sailor, LeGros had resigned himself to occupy a secondary place on the slaver, andtransferred his spite to the representative of the Emerald Isle. 

More than once, slight collisions had occurred between them, --in whichthe Frenchman, gifted with greater cunning, had managed to come offvictorious. But there had never arisen any serious matter to test thestrength of the two men to that desperate strife, of which death mightbe the ending. They had generally fought shy of each other; theFrenchman from a latent fear of his adversary, --founded, perhaps, onsome suspicion of powers not yet exhibited by him, and which might bedeveloped in a deadly struggle, --the Irishman from a habitude, not verycommon among his countrymen, of being little addicted to quarrelling. He was, on the contrary, a man of peaceful disposition, and of fewwords, --also a rare circumstance, considering that his name was LarryO'Gorman. 

There were some good traits in the Irishman's character. Perhaps wehave given the best. In comparison with the Frenchman, he might bedescribed as an angel; and, compared with the other wretches on theraft, he was, perhaps, the _least bad_: for the word _best_ could not, with propriety, be applied to anyone of that motley crew. 

Personally, the two men were unlike as could well be. While theFrenchman was black and bearded, the Irishman was red and almostbeardless. In size, however, they approximated nearer to each other, --both being men of large stature. Both had been stout, --almostcorpulent. 

Neither could be so described as they assisted at that solemn ceremonialthat was to devote one or other of them to a doom--in which their_condition_ was a circumstance of significant interest to those who wereto survive them. 

Both were shrunken in shape, with their garments hanging loosely aroundtheir bodies, their eyes sunk in deep cavities, their cheek-bonesprominently protruding, their breasts flat and fleshless, the ribseasily discernible, --in short, they appeared more like a pair ofskeletons, covered with shrivelled skin, than breathing, living men. Either was but ill-adapted for the purpose to which dire necessity wasabout to devote one or other of them. 

Of the two, Le Gros appeared the less attenuated. This may have arisenfrom the fact of his greater ascendency over the crew of the raft, --bymeans of which he had been enabled to appropriate to himself a largershare of the food sparsely distributed amongst them. His ample coveringof hair may have had something to do with this appearance, --concealingas it did the unevenness of the surface upon which it grew, andimparting a plumper aspect to his face and features. 

If there was a superiority in the quantity of flesh still clinging tohis bones, its quality might be questioned, --at all events, in regard tothe use that might soon be made of it. In point of tenderness, hismuscular integuments could scarcely compare with those of the Irishman, whose bright skin promised--

These are horrid thoughts. They should not be her repeated, were it notto show in its true light the terrible extremes, both of thought andaction, to which men may be reduced by starvation. Horrid as they mayappear, they were entertained at that crisis by the castaway crew of the_Pandora_!

CHAPTER SIXTY NINE. 

A CHALLENGE DECLINED. 

When it came to the last drawing, --for there needed to be only onemore, --there was a pause in the proceedings, such as usually precedes anexpected climax. 

It was accompanied by silence; so profound that, but for the noise madeby the waves as they dashed against the hollow hogsheads, a pin mighthave been heard if dropped upon the planking of the raft. In the soundof the sea there was something lugubrious: a fit accompaniment of theunhallowed scene that was being enacted by those within hearing of it. One might have fancied that spirits in fearful pain were confined withinthe empty casks, and that the sounds that seemed to issue out of themwere groans elicited by their agony. 

The two men, one of whom was doomed to die, stood face to face; theothers forming a sort of circle around them. All eyes were bent uponthem, while theirs were fixed only upon each other. The reciprocatedglance was one of dire hostility and hate, --combined with a hope on thepart of each to see the other dead, and then to survive him. 

Both were inspired by a belief--in the presence of such an unexpectedcontingency it was not unreasonable--that Fate had singled them out fromtheir fellows to stand in that strange antagonism. They were, in fact, convinced of it. 

Under the influence of this conviction, it might be supposed thatneither would offer any further opposition to Fate's decree, but wouldyield to what might appear their "manifest destiny. "

As it was, however, fatalism was not the faith of either. Thoughneither of them could lay claim to the character of a Christian, theywere equally unbelievers in this particular article of the creed ofMahomet; and both were imbued with a stronger belief in strength orstratagem than in chance. 

On the first-mentioned the Irishman appeared most to rely, as wasevidenced by the proposal he made upon the occasion. 

"I dar yez, " said he, "to thry which is the best man. To dhraw thembuttons is an even chance between us; an' maybe the best man is himthat'll have to die. By Saint Pathrick! that isn't fair, nohow. Thebest man should be allowed to live. Phwat do _yez_ say, comrades?"

The proposal, though unexpected by all, found partisans who entertainedit. It put a new face upon the affair. It was one that was not morethan reasonable. 

The crew, no longer interested in the matter, --at least, so far as theirown personal safety was concerned, --could now contemplate the resultwith calmness; and the instinct of justice was not dead within thehearts of all of them. In the challenge of the Irishman there appearednothing unfair. A number of them were inclined to entertain it, anddeclared themselves of that view. 

The partisans of Le Gros were the more numerous; and these remainedsilent, --waiting until the latter should make reply to the proposal ofhis antagonist. 

After the slight luck he had already experienced in the lottery, --combined with several partial defeats erst inflicted upon the man whothus challenged him, --it might have been expected that Le Gros wouldhave gladly accepted the challenge. 

He did not. On the contrary, he showed such an inclination to trust to_chance_ that a close observer of his looks and actions might have seencause to suspect that he had also some reliance upon _stratagem_. 

No one, however, had been thus closely observing him. No one--exceptthe individual immediately concerned--had noticed that quick grasp ofhands between him and one of his partisans; or, if they had, it was onlyto interpret it as a salute of sympathy, extended towards a comrade in asituation of danger. 

In that salute, however, there passed between the two men something ofsignificance; which, if exhibited to the eyes of the spectators, wouldhave explained the indifference to death that from that momentcharacterised the demeanour of Le Gros. 

After that furtive movement, he no longer showed any hesitancy as to hiscourse of action; but at once declared his willingness, as well as hisdetermination, to abide by the decision of the drawing. 

"_Sacre_!" cried he, in answer to the challenge of the Irishman; "youdon't suppose, _Monsieur Irlandais_, that I should fear the result asyou propose it? _Parbleu_! nobody will believe that. But I'm abeliever in Fortune, --notwithstanding the scurvy tricks she has oftenserved me--even now that she is frowning upon me black as ever. Neitherof us appears to be in favour with her, and that will make our chancesequal. So then, I say, let us try her again. _Sacre_! it will be thelast time she can frown on one of us, --that's certain. "

As O'Gorman had no right to alter the original programme of the lottery, of course the dissenting voices to its continuance were in the minority;and the general clamour tailed upon fate to decide which of the two menwas to become food for their famishing companions. 

Le Gros still held the bag containing the two buttons. One of themshould be black, the other red. It became a subject of dispute, whichwas 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 cameout, the drawer must die; if the black, then the other must become thevictim. 

Some proposed that a third party should hold the bag, and that thereshould be a toss up for the first chance. Le Gros showed a dispositionto oppose this plan. He said that, as he had been intrusted with thesuperintendence so far, he should continue it to the end. They allsaw, --so urged he, --that he had not benefited by the office imposed uponhim; 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 noknowing where it might terminate. He did not care much, one way or theother: since there could be no advantage in his holding the bag; but ashe had done so all through, --as he believed to his disadvantage, --he waswilling 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 declaredthemselves in favour of his continuing to hold the bag; and it wasdecided that the Irishman should make choice of the _penultimate_button. 

The latter offered no opposition to this arrangement. There appeared novalid grounds for objecting to it. It was a simple toss of heads andtails, --"Heads I win, and tails you lose"; or, to make use of a formulamore appropriate to the occasion, "Heads I live, and tails you die. "With some such process of reasoning current through the brain of LarryO'Gorman, he stepped boldly up to the bag; plunged his fist into itsobscure interior; and drew forth--_the black button_!

CHAPTER SEVENTY. 

AN UNEXPECTED TERMINATION. 

The red button remained in the bag. It was a singular circumstance thatit should be the last; but such strange circumstances will sometimesoccur. It belonged to Le Gros. The lottery was over; the Frenchman hadforfeited life. 

It seemed idle for him to draw the button out; and yet, to theastonishment of the spectators, he proceeded to do so. 

"_Sacre_!" he exclaimed, "the luck's been against me. _Eh bien_!" headded, with a _sangfroid_ that caused some surprise, "I suppose I mustmake a die of it. Let me see the accursed thing that's going to condemnme!"

As he said this, he held up the bag in his left hand, --at the same timeplunging his right into its dark interior. For some seconds heappeared, to grope about, as if he had some difficulty in finding thebutton. While fumbling in this fashion he let go the mouth of thewallet, which he had been holding in his left hand, --adroitlytransferring his hold to its bottom. This was done apparently for thepurpose of getting the button into a corner, --in order that he might layhold of it with his fingers. 

For some moments the bag rested upon his left forearm, while hecontinued his hunt after the little piece of horn. He appearedsuccessful at length; and drew forth his right hand, with the fingersclosed over the palm, as if containing something, --of course the dreadsymbol of death. Stirred by a kind of curiosity, his comrades pressedmechanically around, and stood watching his movements. 

For an instant he kept his fist closed, holding it on high to that allmight see it: and then, slowly extending his fingers, he exhibited hisspread palm before their eyes. It held the button that he had drawnforth 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 LeGros himself, --though, to all appearance, he was the most astonishedindividual of the party, --the other was the man who, some minutesbefore, might have been observed standing by his side, and stealthilytransferring something from his own fingers to those of the Frenchman. 

This unexpected termination of the lottery led to a scene of terrificexcitement. Several seized hold of the bag, --jerking it out of the handof him who had hitherto been holding it. It was at once turned insideout; when the red button fell upon the planking of the raft. 

Most of the men were furious, and loudly declared that they had beencheated, --some offering conjectures as to how the cheat had beenaccomplished. The confederate of Le Gros--backed by the ruffianhimself--suggested that there might have been no deception about thematter, but only a mistake made in the number of buttons originallythrown into the bag. "Like enough, --damned like enough!"--urged LeGros's sharping partner; "there's been a button too many put into thebag, --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 nobody'sfault in particular. We'll have to draw again, and the next time we canbe 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 surethat a trick had been played; and the trick itself could be easilyconjectured. Some one of the drawers had procured a button similar tothose inside the bag; and holding this button, had simply inserted hishand, and drawn it out again. 

Out of twenty-six draws it would have been impossible to fix upon theindividual who had been guilty of the cheat, though there were not a fewwho permitted their suspicions to fall on Le Gros himself. There hadbeen observed something peculiar in his mode of manipulation. He hadinserted his hand into the wallet with the fist closed; and had drawn itout in similar fashion. This, with one or two other circumstances, looked suspicious enough; but it was remembered that some others haddone the same; and as there was not enough of evidence to bring home theinfamous act to its perpetrator, no one appeared either able or willingto risk making the accusation. 

Yes, there _was_ one who had not yet declared himself; nor did he do sountil some time had elapsed after the final and disappointing draw madeby the master of the ceremonies. This man was Larry O'Gorman. 

While the rest of the crew had been listening to the arguments of theFrenchman's confederate, --and one by one signifying theiracquiescence, --the Irishman stood apart, apparently busied in someprofound 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 theirmidst, cried out in a determined manner, "No--

"No, yez don't, " continued he, "no more drawin', my jewels, till we'vehad a betther undherstandin' ov this little matther. That there's beenchatin' yez are all agreed; only yez can't identify the chate. Maybe Ican say somethin' to point out the dirty spalpeen as hasn't the couragenor the dacency to take his chance along wid the rest ov us. "

This unexpected interpolation at once drew the eyes of all parties uponthe speaker; for all were alike interested in the revelation whichO'Gorman was threatening to make. 

Whoever had played foul, --if it could only be proved against him, --wouldbe regarded as the man who ought to have drawn the red button; and wouldbe treated as if he had done so. This was tacitly understood; evenbefore the suggestion of such a course had passed the lips of anyone. Those who were innocent were of course desirous of discovering 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 anattentive ear should be given to the statement which the Irishmanproposed to lay before them. 

All stood gazing upon him with expectant eyes. In those of Le Gros andhis confederate there was a different expression. The look of theFrenchman was more especially remarkable. His jaws had fallen; his lipswere white and bloodless; his eyes glared fiend-like out of their sunkensockets; while the whole cast of his features was that of a manthreatened with some fearful and infamous fate, which he feels himselfunable to avert. 

CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE. 

LE GROS UPON TRIAL. 

As O'Gorman gave utterance to the last words of his preparatory speech, he fixed his eyes steadfastly upon the Frenchman. His look confirmedevery one in the belief that the allusion had been to the latter. 

Le Gros at first quailed before the Irishman's glance; but, perceivingthe necessity of putting a bold front on the matter, he made anendeavour to reciprocate it. 

"_Sacre bleu_!" he exclaimed. "_Monsieur Irlandais_ why do you look atme? you don't mean to insinuate that I've acted unfairly?"

"The divil a bit, " replied the Irishman. "If it's insinivation yez betalkin' about, the divil a bit ov that do I mane. Larry O'Gorman isn'tagoin' 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 exthrabutton into the bag, --yez did it, Misther Laygrow, and nobody else. "

"Liar!" vociferated the Frenchman, with a menacing gesture. "Liar!"

"Kape cool, Frenchy. It isn't Larry the Galwayman that's goin' to bescared at yer blusther. I repate, --it was you yourself that putt thatbutton into the bag. "

"How do you know that, O'Gorman?" "Can you prove it?"

"What proof have you?" were questions that were asked simultaneously byseveral voices, --among which that of the Frenchman's confederate wasconspicuous. 

"Phwy, phwat more proof do yez want, than phwat's alriddy before yez?When I had me hand in the wallet, there wasn't only the two buttons, --the divil a more. I feeled thim both while I was gropin' about to makechoice betwixt them; an if there had been a third, I wud a feeled thattoo. I can swear by the holy cross of Saint Pathrick there wasn't wanmore than the two. "

"That's no proof there wasn't three, " urged the friend of Le Gros. "Thethird 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 thatspalpeen's fist! That's where it was; and I can tell yez all who puttit there. It was this very chap who is so pit-a-pat at explainin' it. Yez needn't deny it, Bill Bowler. I saw somethin' passin' betwixtyerself and Frenchy, --jest before it come his turn to dhraw. I saw yerflippers touchin' van another, an' somethin' slippin' in betwane them. I couldn't tell phwat it was, but, by Jaysus! I thought it quare forall that. I know now phwhat it was, --it was the button. "

The Irishman's arguments merited attention; and received it. Thecircumstances looked at the least suspicious against Le Gros. To themajority they were conclusive of his guilt. 

The accusation was supported by other evidence. The man who hadpreceded O'Gorman in the drawing positively avowed that he could feelonly three buttons in the bag; while the one before him, with equalconfidence, asserted that when _he_ drew, there were but four. Bothdeclared that they could not be mistaken as to the numbers. They hadseparately "fingered" each button in the hope of being able to detectthat which was bloodstained, and so avoid bringing it forth. 

"Ach!" ejaculated the Irishman, becoming impatient for the conviction ofhis guilty antagonist; "phwat's the use ov talkin'. Frenchy's the wanthat did it. That gropin' an fumblin' about the bottom of the walletwas 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. "Kapecool, ye frog-atin' son av a gun, or ye'll make mate for us sooner thanye expected, ay, before yez have time to put up a _pater_ for yer uglysowl, that stans most disperately in nade ov it. 

"Now, " continued the Irishman, after he had fairly placed himself in anattitude of defence; "come an whiniver yer loike. Larry O'Gorman isriddy for ye, an' another av the same at yer dhirty back. _Hoch_, --_faugh-a-ballah_, --_hiloo_, --_whallabaloo_!"

CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO. 

A DUEL TO THE DEATH. 

The strange ceremonial upon the raft, --hitherto carried on with someshow of solemnity, --had reached an unexpected crisis. 

A second appeal to the goddess of Fortune was no longer thought of. Thedeadly antagonism of the two chief castaways--Le Gros and O'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; forthe determined attitude of each told, beyond mistaking, that his baredblade would not be again sheathed, except in the flesh of his adversary. 

There was no attempt at intervention. Not one of their comradesinterposed to keep them apart. There was friendly feeling, --or, to usea more appropriate phrase, partisanship, --on the side of each; but itwas of that character which usually exists among the brutal backers oftwo "champions of the ring. "

Under other circumstances, each party might have regretted the defeat ofthe champion they had adopted; but upon that raft, the death of one orother of the combatants was not only desirable; but, rather than itshould not occur, either side would have most gladly assented to see itsespecial favourite the victim. 

Every man of that ruffian crew had a selfish interest in the result ofthe threatened conflict; and this far outweighed any feeling ofpartisanship with which he might have been inspired. A few may havefelt friendlier than others towards their respective champions; but tothe majority it mattered little which of the two men should die; andthere were even some who, in the secret chambers of their hearts, wouldhave reflected gleefully to behold both become victims of theirreciprocal hostility. Such a result would cause a still furtherpostponement of that unpopular lottery, --in which they had been toooften compelled to take shares. 

There was no very great difference in the number of the "friends" oneither side. The partisans of the Frenchman would have far outnumberedthose of his Irish adversary, but ten minutes before. But the behaviourof Le Gros in the lottery had lost him many adherents. That he hadplayed the trick imputed to him was by most believed; and as the resultof his unmanly subterfuge was of personal interest to all, there weremany, hitherto indifferent, now inspired with hostility towards him. 

Apart from personal considerations, --even amongst that conglomeration ofoutcasts, --there were some in whom the instinct of "fair-play" was notaltogether dead; and the foul play of the Frenchman had freshly arousedthis instinct within them. 

As soon as the combatants had shown a fixed determination to engage indeadly strife, the crowd upon the raft became separated, as if bymechanical action, into two groups, --one forming in the rear of Le Gros, the other taking stand behind the Irishman. 

As already stated, there was no great inequality between them in pointof numbers; and as each occupied an end of the raft, the balance waspreserved, and the stage upon which the death drama was about to beenacted--set horizontally--offered no advantage to either. 

Knives were to be their weapons. There were others on the raft. Therewere axes, cutlasses, and harpoons; but the use of these was prohibitedto either of the intended combatants: as nothing could be fairer thanthe sailor's knife, --with which each was provided, --and no weapon inclose combat could be used with more certain or deadlier effect. 

Each armed with his own knife, released from its lanyard fastenings inorder to be freely handled, --each with his foot planted in front of him, to guard against the onset of his adversary, --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 glaringforth 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 watchingthe movements of the two men, one of whom--perhaps both--was about to behurried into eternity. 

It was a setting sun that was to afford light for this fearful conflict. Already was the golden orb declining low upon the western horizon. Hisdisc was of a lurid red, --a colour appropriate to the spectacle it wasto illumine. No wonder that both combatants instinctively turned theireyes towards the west, and gazed upon the god of day. Both were underthe belief they might never more look upon that luminary!

CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE. 

HATE AGAINST HATE. 

The combatants did not close on the instant. The sharp blades shiningin their hands rendered them shy of a too near approach, and for sometime they kept apart. They did not, however, remain motionless orinactive. On the contrary, both were on the alert, --moving in shortcurves 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 byfeigning a retreat endeavour to get the other off guard; but, afterseveral such passes and counter-passes 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 showed not theslightest emotion, --as if they cared not who should be the victor, orwhich the victim. To most it mattered 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 partisanship. Thesedoubtless felt a deeper interest in the result, at least they were moredemonstrative of it; and by words of exhortation and cries ofencouragement endeavoured to give support to their respective champions. 

There were spectators of a different kind, that appeared to take as muchinterest in the fearful affair as any of those already described. Thesewere the sharks! Looking at them, as they swam around the raft, --theireyes glaring upon those who occupied it, --one could not have helpedthinking that they comprehended what was going on, --that they wereconscious of a deed of violence about to be enacted, --and were waitingfor some contingency that might turn up in their favour!

Whatever the crisis was to be, neither the spectators _in_ the sea, northose _upon_ it, would have long to wait for the crisis. Two men, mutually enraged, standing in front of each other, armed with nakedknives; each desperately desirous of killing the other, --with no one tokeep them apart, but a score of spectators to encourage them in theirintent of reciprocal destruction, --were not likely to be long in comingto the end of the affair. It was not a question of swords, whereskilful 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 othermust receive a wound that might in a moment prove mortal. 

It was this thought that--for some minutes after their squaring up toeach other--had influenced them to keep at a wary distance. 

The cries of their companions began to assume an altered tone. Mingledwith shouts of exhortation could be heard taunts and jeers, --severalvoices proclaiming that the "two bullies were afraid of each other. "

"Go in, Le Gros! give him the knife!" cried the partisans of theFrenchman. 

"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 ofsome 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 overthe heads of the spectators, the combatants rushed towards each other, --as they closed inflicting a mutual stab. But the blade of each was metby the left arm of his antagonist, thrown out to ward off the strokesand they separated again without either having received further injurythan a flesh wound, that in no way disabled them. It appeared, however, to produce an irritation, which rendered both of them less careful ofconsequences: for in an instant after they closed again, --the spectatorsaccompanying their collision with shouts of encouragement. 

All were now looking for a quick termination to the affair; but in thisthey were disappointed. After several random thrusts had been given onboth sides, the combatants again became separated without either havingreceived any serious injury. The wild rage which blinded both, rendering their blows uncertain, --combined with the weakness of theirbodies from long starvation, --may account for their thus separating forthe second time, without either having received a mortal wound. 

Equally innocuous proved the third encounter, --though differing incharacter from either of those that preceded it. As they came together, each grasped the right arm of his antagonist, --that which wielded theweapon, --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 ofskill, but of strength. Nor was it at all dangerous, as long as the"grip" held good; since neither could use his knife. Either could havelet go with his left hand at any moment; but by so doing he wouldrelease the _armed_ hand of his antagonist, and thus place himself inimminent peril. 

Both were conscious of the danger; and, instead of separating, theycontinued to preserve the reciprocal "clutch" that had been establishedbetween them. 

For some minutes they struggled in this strange fashion, --the intentionof each being to throw the other upon the raft. That done, he whoshould be uppermost would obtain a decided advantage. 

They twisted, and turned, and wriggled their bodies about; but bothstill managed to keep upon their feet. 

The contest was not carried on in any particular spot, but all over theraft; up against the mast, around the empty casks, among the osseousrelics of humanity, --the strewed bones rattling against their feet asthey trod over them. The spectators made way as they came nearer, nimbly leaping from side to side; while the stage upon which thisfearful drama was being enacted, --despite the ballast of itswater-logged beams, and the buoyancy of its empty casks, --was kept in acontinual 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 wasinferior to that of his island antagonist; and had it been a merecontest of toughness, the former would have been defeated. 

In craft, however, Le Gros was the Irishman's superior: and at thiscrisis stratagem came to his aid. 

In turning about, the Frenchman had got his head close to the sleeve ofO'Gorman's jacket, --that one which encircled his right wrist, andtouched the hand holding the dangerous knife. Suddenly craning his neckto its fullest stretch, he seized the sleeve between his teeth, and heldit with all the strength of his powerful jaws. Quick as thought, hisleft hand glided towards his own right; his knife was transferred to it;and the next moment gleamed beneath, threatening to penetrate the bosomof his antagonist. 

O'Gorman's fate appeared to be sealed. With both arms pinioned, whatchance had he to avoid the blow? The spectators, silent and breathless, looked for it as a certain thing. There was scarce time for them toutter an exclamation, before they were again subjected to surprise atseeing the Irishman escape from his perilous position. 

Fortunate it was for him, that the cloth of his pea-jacket was not ofthe best quality. It had never been, even when new; and now, afterlong-continued and ill-usage, it _was_ almost rotten. For this reason, by a desperate wrench, he was enabled to release his arm from the dentalgrip which his antagonist had taken upon it, --leaving only a rag betweenthe Frenchman's teeth. 

The circumstances had suddenly changed! the advantage being now on theside of the Irishman. Not only was his right arm free again; but withthe other he still retained his hold upon that of his antagonist. LeGros could only use his weapon with the left arm; which placed him at adisadvantage. 

The shouts that had gone up to hail the Frenchman's success--so lateappearing certain--had become suddenly hushed; and once more the contestproceeded in silence. 

It lasted but a few seconds longer; and then was it terminated in amanner unexpected by all. 

Beyond doubt, O'Gorman would have been the victor, had it ended as everyone was anticipating it would, --in the death of one or other of thecombatants. As it chanced, however, neither succumbed in thatsanguinary 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 favour of the Irishman. He knew it; and was not slow to avail himself of the advantage. 

Still retaining his grasp of Le Gros's right wrist, he plied his owndexter arm with a vigour that promised soon to settle the affair; whilethe 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 passesneither appeared to give or receive a wound. This innocuous sparring, however, was of short continuance and ended by the Irishman making adexterous stroke, by which his blade was planted in the hand of hisantagonist, --transfixing the very fingers which were grasping the knife!

The weapon fell from his relaxed clutch; and passing through theinterstices of the timber, sank to the bottom of the sea! A scream ofdespair escaped from the lips of the Frenchman, as he saw the blade ofhis antagonist about to be thrust into his body!

The thrust was threatened, but not made. Before it could be given, ahand interfered to prevent it. One of the spectators had seized theuplifted arm of the Irishman, --at the same time vociferating, in astentorian voice--

"Don't kill him! we won't need to eat him! Look yonder! We're saved!we're saved!"

CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR. 

A LIGHT!

The man who had so unexpectedly interrupted the deadly duello, whilegiving utterance to his strange speech, kept one of his arms extendedtowards the ocean, --as if pointing to something he had descried abovethe 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 uponthe spectators of the tragedy thus intruded upon, but upon its actors. Even rancour became appeased by the sweet sound; and that of theIrishman, as with most of his countrymen, being born "as the flint bearsfire, " subsided on the instant. 

He permitted his upraised arm to be held in restraint; it becamerelaxed, as did also his grasp on the wrist of his antagonist; while thelatter, finding himself free, was allowed to retire from the contest. 

O'Gorman, among the rest, had faced round; and stood looking in thedirection where somebody had seen something that promised salvation ofall. 

"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 nauticalignoramus as to believe himself within sigh of land. 

"A sail?--a ship?"

That was more likely: though, at the first glance, neither tail nor shipappeared upon the horizon, "What is it?" was the interrogatoryreiterated by a dozen voices. 

"A light! Don't you see it?" asked the lynx-eyed individual, whoseinterference in the combat had caused this sudden departure from theprogramme. "Look!" he continued; "just where the sun's gone downyonder. It's only a speck; but I can see it plain enough. It must bethe light from a ship's binnacle!"

"_Carrajo_!" exclaimed a Spaniard; "it's only a spark the sun's leftbehind him. It's the _ignis fatuus_ you've seen, _amigo_!"

"Bah!" added another; "supposing it is a binnacle-lamp, as you say, whatwould be the use, except to tantalise us. If it be in the binnacle, incourse the ship as carries it must be stern towards us. What chancewould 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, vraiment! An--pe dam!--zat same est nolamp in ze binnacle!"

"I see it too!" cried another. 

"And I!" added a third. 

"_Io tambien_!" (I also) echoed a fourth, whose tongue proclaimed himof Spanish nativity. 

"_Ich sehe_!" drawled out a native of the German Confederacy; and thenfollowed a volley of voices, --each saying something to confirm thebelief that a light was really gleaming over the ocean. 

This was a fact that nobody--not even the first objectors--any longerdoubted. 

It is true that the light seen appeared only a mere sparkle, feeblyglimmering 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 atthat time have been seen, --on the western horizon, still slightlyreddened by the rays of the declining sun. 

The men who speculated upon its appearance, --rude as they were in amoral sense, --were not so intellectually stupid as to mistake for a starthat speck of yellowish hue, struggling to reveal itself against thealmost kindred colour of the occidental sky. 

"It isn't a star, --that's certain, " confidently declared one of theirnumber; "and if it be a light aboard ship, it's no binnacle-lamp, I say. Bah! who'd call that a binnacle glim, or a lamp of any kind? If't be aship's light at all, it's the glare o' the galley-fire, --where thecook's makin' coffee for all hands. "

The superb picture of comfort thus called forth was too much for thetemper of the starving men, to whom the idea was addressed; and a wildcry of exultation responded to the speech. 

A galley; a galley-fire; a cook; coffee for all hands; lobscouse;plum-duff; sea-pies; even the much-despised pea-soup and salt junk, hadbeen long looked upon as things belonging to another world, --pleasuresof the past, never more to be indulged in!

Now that the gleam of a galley-fire--as they believed the light to be--rose up before their eyes, the spirits of all became suddenlyelectrified by the wildest imaginings; and the contest so lately carriedon, --as well as the combatants engaged in it, --was instantaneouslyforgotten; while the thoughts, and eager glances, of every individual onthe raft were now directed towards that all-absorbing speck, --stillgleaming but obscurely against the reddish background of the sun-stainedhorizon. 

As they continued to gaze, the tiny spark seemed to increase, not onlyin size, but intensity; and, before many minutes had elapsed, itproclaimed itself no longer a mere spark, but a blaze of light, with itsown luminous halo around it. The gradual chastening of colour in thewestern sky, along with the increased darkness of the atmosphere aroundit, would account for this change in the appearance of the light. Soreasoned the spectators, --now more than ever convinced that what theysaw was the glare of a galley-fire. 

CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE. 

TOWARDS THE BEACON!

As soon as they were satisfied that the bright spark upon the horizonwas a burning light, every individual on the raft became inspired withthe same impulse, --to make for the spot where the object appeared. Whether in the galley or not, --and whether the glow of a fire or thegleam of a lamp, --it must be on board a ship. There was no land in thatpart of the ocean; and a light could not be burning upon the water, without something in the shape of a ship to carry it. 

That it was a ship, no one for a moment doubted. So sure were they, that several of the men, on the moment of making it out, hadvociferated, at the top of their voices, "Ship ahoy!"

The voices of none of them were particularly strong just then. Theywere weak, in proportion to their attenuated frames; but had they beenten times as strong as they were, they could not have been heard at sucha distance as that light was separated from the raft. 

It was not less than twenty miles from them. In the excited state oftheir senses, --arising from thirst, starvation, and all the wildemotions which the discovery itself had roused within them, --they hadformed a delusive idea of the distance; many of them fancying that thelight was quite near!

There were some among them who reasoned more rationally. These, insteadof wasting their strength in idle shouting, employed their time inimpressing upon the others the necessity of making some exertion toapproach the light. 

Some thought that much exertion would not be required; as the lightappeared to be approaching them. And, in truth, it did appear so; butthe wiser ones knew that this might be only an optical illusion, --causedby the sea and sky each moment assuming a more sombre hue. 

These last--both with voice and by their example--urged their companionsto use every effort towards coming up with what they were sure must be aship. 

"Let us meet her, " they said, "if she's standing this way; if not, wemust do all we can to overtake her. "

It needed no persuasion to put the most slothful of the crew upon theirmettle. A new hope of life, --an unexpected prospect of being rescuedfrom what most of them had been contemplating as almost certain death, --inspired all to the utmost effort; and with an alacrity they had neverbefore exhibited in their raft navigation, --and a unanimity of lateunknown to them, --they went to work to propel their clumsy craft acrossthe ocean. 

Some sprang to the oars, while others assisted at the sail. For daysthe latter had received no attention; but had been permitted to hangloosely from the mast, --flopping about in whatever way the breezechanced to blow it. They had entertained no idea of what course theyought to steer in; or if they did think of a direction, they had notsufficient decision to follow it. For days they had been drifting aboutover the surface of the sea, at the discretion of the currents. 

Now the sail was reset, with all the trimness that circumstances wouldadmit of. The sheets were drawn home and made fast; and the mast wasstayed _taut_, so as to hinder it from slanting. 

As the object upon which they were directing their course was notexactly to leeward, it was necessary to manage the sail with the windslightly abeam; and for this purpose two men were appointed to therudder, --which consisted of a broad plank, poised on its edge andhitched to the stern timbers of the raft. By means of this rude rudder, they were enabled to keep the raft "head on" towards the light. 

The rowers were seated along both sides. Nearly every individual of thecrew, who was not occupied at the sail or steering-board, was employedin propelling. A few only were provided with oars; others wieldedhandspikes, capstan-bars, or pieces of split plank, --in short, anythingthat would assist in the "pulling, " if only to the value of a pound. 

It was, --or, at all events, they thought it was, --a life and deathstruggle. They were sure that a ship was near them. By reaching herthey would be saved; by failing to do so they would be doomed. Anotherday without food would bring death, at least to one of them; another daywithout water would bring worse than death to almost every man of them. 

Their unanimous action, assisted by the broad sail, caused the craft, cumbersome as it was, to make considerable way through the water, --though by far too slow to satisfy their wishes. At times they keptsilent; at times their voices could be heard mingled with the plungingof the oars; and too often only in profane speech. 

They cursed the craft upon which they were carried, --its clumsiness, --the slowness with which they were making way towards the ship, --the shipitself, for not making way towards them: for, as they continued on, those who formerly believed that the light was approaching them, nolonger held to that faith. On the contrary, after rowing nearly anhour, all were too ready to agree in the belief that the ship waswearing away. 

Not an instant passed, without the eyes of some one being directedtowards the light. The rowers, whose backs were turned upon it, keptoccasionally twisting their necks around, and looking over theirshoulders, --only to resume their proper attitudes with countenances thatexpressed disappointment. 

There were not wanting voices to speak discouragement. Some declaredthat the light was growing less; that the ship was in full sail, goingaway from them; and that there would not be the slightest chance oftheir coming up with her. 

These were men who began to feel fatigued at the oar. 

There were even some who professed to doubt the existence of a ship, ora ship's light. What they saw was only a bright spot upon the ocean, --some luminous object--perhaps the carcass of some phosphorous fish, or"squid, " floating upon the surface. They had many of them seen suchthings; and the conjecture was not offered to incredulous ears. 

These surmises produced discontent, --which in time would have exhibiteditself in the gradual dropping of the oars, but for a circumstance whichbrought this climax about, in a more sudden and simultaneous manner, --the _extinction of the light_. 

It went out while the eyes of several were fixed upon it; not by anygradual disappearance, --as a waning star might have passed out ofsight, --but with a quick "fluff;"--so one of the spectators describedit, --likening its extinction to "a tub of salt-water thrown over thegalley-fire. "

On the instant of its disappearance, the oars were abandoned, --as alsothe rudder. It would have been idle to attempt steering any longer. There was neither moon nor stars in the sky. The light was the onlything that had been guiding them; and that gone, they had not theslightest clue as to their course. The breeze was buffeting about inevery direction; but, even had it been blowing steadily, every one ofthem knew how uncertain it would be to trust to its guidance, --especially with such a sail, and such a steering apparatus. 

Already half convinced that they had been following an _ignis fatuus_, --and half resolved to give over the pursuit, --it needed only what hadoccurred to cause a complete abandonment of their nocturnal navigation. 

Once more giving way to despair, --expressed in wild wicked words, --theyleft the sail to itself, and the winds to waft them to whatever spot ofthe ocean fate had designed for the closing scene of their wretchedexistence. 

CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX. 

A DOUBLE DARKNESS. 

The night was a dark one; by a Spanish figure of speech, comparable to a"pot of pitch. " It was scarce further obscured by a thick fog thatshortly after came silently over the surface of the ocean, envelopingthe great raft along with its ruffian crew. 

Through such an atmosphere nothing could be seen, --not even the light, had it continued to burn. 

Before the coming on of the fog, they had kept a look-out for thelight, --one or other remaining always on the watch. They had done so, with a sort of despairing hope that it might reappear; but, as thesurrounding atmosphere became impregnated with the filmy vapour, thisdreary vigilance was gradually relaxed, and at length abandonedaltogether. 

So thick fell the fog during the mid-hours of the night, that nothingcould be seen at the distance of over six feet from the eye. Even theywho occupied the raft could only distinguish those who were close bytheir side; and each appeared to the others as if shrouded under ascreen of grey gauze. 

The darkness did not hinder them from conversing. As nearly all hope ofsuccour from a supposed ship had been extinguished, along with thatfanciful light, it was but natural that their thoughts should lapse intosome other channel; and equally so, that they should turn back to thatfrom which they had been so unexpectedly diverted. 

Hunger, --keen, craving hunger, --easily transported them to the spectaclewhich the sheen of that false torch had brought to an unsatisfactorytermination; and their minds now dwelt on what would have been thedifferent condition of affairs, had they not yielded to the delusion. 

Not only had their thoughts reference to this theme, but their speeches;and in the solemn hour of midnight, --in the midst of that gloomy vapour, darkly overshadowing the great deep, --they might have been heard againdiscussing the awful question, "Who dies next?"

To arrive at a decision was not so difficult as before. The majority ofthe men had made up their minds as to the course that should be pursued. It was no longer a question of casting lots. That had been donealready; and the two who had not yet drawn clear--and between whom thething still remained undecided--were undoubtedly the individuals todetermine the matter. 

Indeed, there was no debate. All were unanimous that either Le Gros orO'Gorman should furnish food for their famishing companions, --in otherwords, that the combat, so unexpectedly postponed, should be againresumed. 

There was nothing unfair in this, --except to the Irish man. He hadcertainly secured his triumph, when interrupted. If another half-secondhad been allowed him, his antagonist would have lain lifeless at hisfeet. 

Under the judgment of just umpires this circumstance would have weighedin his favour; and, perhaps, exempted him from any further risk; but, tried by the shipwrecked crew of a slaver, --more than a moiety of whomleaned towards his antagonist, --the sentence was different; and themajority of the judges proclaimed that the combat between him and LeGros should be renewed, and continued to the death. 

The renewal of it was not to take place on the moment. Night anddarkness both forbade this; but the morning's earliest light was towitness the resumption of that terrible strife. 

Thus resolved, the ex-crew of the _Pandora_ laid themselves down tosleep, --not quite so calmly as they might have done in the forecastle ofthe slaver; for thirst, hunger, and fears for a hopeless future, --without saying anything of a hard couch, --were not the companions withwhich to approach the shrine of Somnus. As a counterpoise, they feltlassitude both of mind and body, approaching to prostration. 

Some of them slept. Some of them could have slept within the portals ofPluto, with the dog Cerberus yelping in their ears!

A few there were who seemed either unable to take rest or indifferent toit. All night long some one or other--sometimes two at a time--might beseen staggering about the raft, or crawling over its planks, as ifunconscious of what they were doing. It seemed a wonder that some ofthem--semi-somnambulists in a double sense--did not fall overboard intothe water. But they did not. Notwithstanding the eccentricity of theirmovements, they all succeeded in maintaining their position on the raft. To tumble over the edge would have been tantamount to toppling into thejaws of an expectant shark, and getting "scrunched" between no less thansix rows of sharp teeth. Perhaps it was an instinct--or somepresentiment of this peril--that enabled these wakeful wanderers topreserve their equilibrium. 

CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN. 

A WHISPERED CONSPIRACY. 

Although most of the men had surrendered themselves to such slumber asthey might obtain, the silence was neither profound nor continuous. Attimes no sounds were heard save the whisperings of the breeze, as itbrushed against the spread canvas, or a slight "swashing" in the wateras it was broken by the rough timbers of the craft. 

These sounds were intermingled with the loud breathing of some of thesleepers, --an occasional snore, --and now and then a muttered speech theinvoluntary utterance of someone dreaming a dreadful dream. 

At intervals other noises would arise, when one or more of the wakingcastaways chanced to come together, to hold a short conversation; orwhen one of them, scarce conscious of what he did, stumbled over thelimbs of a prostrate comrade, --perhaps awaking him from a pleasantrepose to the consciousness of the painful circumstances under which hehad been enjoying it. 

Such occurrences usually led to angry altercations, --in which threatsand ribald language would for some minutes freely find vent from thelips both of the disturbed and the disturber; and then both wouldgrowlingly subside into silence. 

At that hour, when the night was at its darkest, and the fog at itsthickest, two men might have been seen, --though only by an eye veryclose to where they were, --in a sitting posture at the bottom of themast. They were crouching rather than seated; for they were upon theirknees, with their bodies bent forward, and one or both of their handsresting upon the planks. 

The attitude was plainly not one of repose; and anyone near enough tohave observed the two men, or to have heard the whispered conversationthat was being carried on between them, would have come to theconclusion that sleep was far from their thoughts. 

In that deep darkness, however, no one noticed them; and althoughseveral of their companions were lying but a few feet from the bottom ofthe mast, these were either asleep or too distant to hear thewhisperings that passed between the two men kneeling in juxtaposition. 

They continued to talk in very low whispers, --each in turn putting hislips close to the ear of the other; and while doing so the subject oftheir conversation might have been guessed at by their glances, or atleast the individual about whom they conversed. 

This was a man who was lying stretched along the timbers, not far fromthe bottom of the mast, and apparently asleep. In fact he must havebeen asleep, as was testified by the stentorian snores that occasionallyescaped from his wide-spread nostrils. 

This noisy slumberer was the Irishman, O'Gorman, --one of the parties tothat suspended fight, to be resumed by day break in the morning. Whatever evil deeds this man may have done during his life, --and he hadperformed not a few, for we have styled him only the least guilty ofthat guilty crew, --he was certainly no coward. Thus to sleep, with sucha prospect on awaking, at least proved him recklessly indifferent todeath. 

The two men by the mast, --whose eyes were evidently upon him, --had novery clear view of him where he lay. Through the white mist they couldsee only something like the shape of a human being recumbent along theplanks; and of that only the legs and lower half of the body. Even hadit been daylight they could not, from their position, have seen his headand shoulders; for both would have been concealed by the empty rum-cask, already mentioned, which stood upon its end exactly by the spot whereO'Gorman had rested his head. 

The Irishman, above all others, had taken a delight in the contents ofthat cask, --so long as a drop was left; and now that it was all gone, perhaps the smell of the alcohol had influenced him in choosing hisplace of repose. 

Whether or not, he was now sleeping on a spot which was to prove thelast resting-place of his life. Cruel destiny had decreed that fromthat slumber he was never more to awaken!

This destiny was now being shaped out for him; and by the twoindividuals who were regarding him from the bottom of the mast. 

"He's sound asleep, " whispered one of them to the other. "You hear thatsnore? _Parbleu_! only a hog could counterfeit that. "

"Sound as a top!" asserted the other. 

"_C'est bon_!" whispered the first speaker, with a significant shrug ofthe shoulders. "If we manage matters smartly, he need never wake again. What say you, comrade?"

"I agree to anything you may propose, " assented the other. "What isit?"

"There need be no noise about it. A single blow will be sufficient, --ifgiven in the right place. With the blade of a knife through his heart, he'll not make three kicks. He'll never know it till he's in the nextworld. _Peste_! I could almost envy him such an easy way of gettingout of this!"

"You think it might be done without making a noise?"

"Easy as falling overboard. One could hold something over his mouth, tokeep his tongue quiet; while the other--You know what I mean?"

The horrid act to be performed by the other was left unspoken, --even inthose confidential whisperings. 

"But, " replied the confederate, objectingly, "suppose the thing done, --how about matters in the morning? They'd know who did it. Leastwise, their suspicions would fall upon us, --upon you to a certainty, afterwhat's happened. You haven't thought of that?"

"Haven't I? But I have, _mon ami_!"

"Well; and what?"

"First place. They're not in the mind to be particular, --none ofthem, --so long as they get something to eat. Secondly; if they shouldkick up a row, our party is the strongest; and I don't care what comesof it. We may as well all die at once, as die by bits. "

"That's true enough. "

"But there's no fear of any trouble from the others. I've got an ideathat'll prevent that. To save appearances, he can commit suicide. "

"What do you mean?"

"Bah! _camarade_! how dull you are. The fog has got into your skull. Don't you know the _Irlandais_ has got a knife, and a sharp one. _Peste_! I know it. Well, --perhaps it can be stolen from him. If so, it can also be found sticking in the wound that will deprive him oflife. Now do you comprehend me?"

"I do, --I do!"

"First, to steal the knife. Go you: I daren't: it would look suspiciousfor me to be seen near him, --that is, if he should wake up. You maystray over that way, as if you were after nothing particular. It'll dono harm to try. "

"I'll see if I can hook it then, " responded the other. "What if I trynow?"

"The sooner the better. With the knife in our possession, we'll knowbetter how to act. Get it, if you can. "

The last speaker remained in his place. The other, rising into an erectattitude, stepped apart from his fellow-conspirator, and moved away fromthe mast, --going apparently without any design. This, however, led himtowards the empty rum-cask, --alongside of which the Irishman lay asleep, utterly unconscious of his approach. 

CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT. 

A FOUL DEED DONE IN A FOG. 

It is scarce necessary to tell who were the two men who had been thusplotting in whispers. The first speaker was, of course, the Frenchman, Le Gros, --the other being the confederate who had assisted him in theperformance of his unfair trick in the lot-casting. 

Their demoniac design is already known from their conversation, --nothingmore nor less than to murder O'Gorman in his sleep!

The former had two motives prompting him to this horrid crime, --eithersufficiently strong to sway such a nature as his to its execution. Hehad all along felt hostility to the Irishman, --which the events of thatday had rendered both deep and deadly. He was wicked enough to havekilled his antagonist for that alone. But there was the other motive, more powerful and far more rational to influence him to the act. Asabove stated, it had been finally arranged that the suspended fight wasto be finished by the earliest light of the morning. Le Gros knew thatthe next scene in that drama of death was to be the last; and, judgingfrom his experience of the one already played, he felt keenlyapprehensive as to the result. He had been fully aware, before thecurtain fell upon the first act, that his life could then have beentaken; and, conscious of a certain inferiority to his antagonist, he nowfelt cowed, and dreaded the final encounter. 

To avoid it, he was willing to do anything, however mean or wicked, --ready to commit even the crime of murder!

He knew that if he should succeed in destroying his adversary, --so longas the act was not witnessed by their associates, --so long as thereshould be only circumstantial evidence against him, --he would not havemuch to fear from such judges as they. It was simply a question as towhether the deed could be done silently and in the darkness; and thatquestion was soon to receive an answer. 

The trick of killing the unfortunate man with his own knife, --and makingit appear that he had committed self-destruction, --would have been tooshallow to have been successful under any other circumstances; but LeGros felt confident that there would be no very strict investigation;and that the inquest likely to be held on the murdered man would be avery informal affair. 

In any case, the risk to him would be less than that he might expect onthe consummation of the combat, --the _finale_ of which would in allprobability, be the losing of his life. 

He was no longer undecided about doing the foul deed. He had quitedetermined upon it; and the attempt now being made by his confederate tosteal the knife was the first stop towards its perpetration. 

The theft was too successfully accomplished. The wretch on getting upto the rum-cask, was seen to sit down silently by its side; and, after afew moments passed in this position he again rose erect, and moved backtowards the mast. Dark as was the night, Le Gros could perceivesomething glittering in the hand of his accomplice, which he knew mustbe the coveted weapon. 

It was so. The sleeper had been surreptitiously disarmed. 

For a moment the two men might have been seen standing in juxtaposition;and while thus together the knife was furtively transferred from thehand of the accomplice into that of the true assassin. 

Then both, assuming a careless attitude, for a while remained near themast, apparently engaged in some ordinary conversation. An occasionalshifting of their position, however, took place, --though so slight that, even under a good light, it would scarce have been observed. A seriesof these movements, made at short intervals, ended in bringing theconspirators close up to the empty hogshead; and then one of them satdown by it. The other, going round it, after a short lapse of time, imitated the example of his companion by seating himself on the oppositeside. 

Thus far there was nothing in the behaviour of the two men to haveattracted the attention of their associates on the raft, --even had thelatter been awake. Even so, the obscurity that surrounded theirmovements would have hindered them from being very clearly comprehended. 

There was no eye watching the assassins, as they sat down by the side oftheir sleeping victim; none fixed upon them as both simultaneously leantover him with outstretched arms, --one holding what appeared a piece ofblanket over his face, as if to stifle his breath, --the other strikingdown upon his breast with a glittering blade, as if stabbing him to theheart. 

The double action occupied scarce a second of time. In the darkness, noone appeared to perceive it, except they were its perpetrators. No oneseemed to hear that choking, gurgling cry that accompanied it; or ifthey did, it was only to shape a half conjecture, that some one of theircompanions was indulging in a troubled dream!

The assassins, horror-stricken at what they had done, skulkedtremblingly back to their former position by the mast. 

Their victim, stretched on his back, remained motionless upon the spotwhere they had visited him; and anyone standing over him, as he lay, might have supposed that he was still slumbering!

Alas! it was the slumber of death!

CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE. 

DOUSING THE GLIM. 

We left the crew of the _Catamaran_ in full occupation, --"smoking"shark-flesh on the back of a _cachalot_ whale. 

To make sure of a sufficient stock, --enough to last them with lightrations for a voyage, if need be, to the other side of the Atlantic, --they had continued at the work all day long, and several hours into thenight. They had kept the fire ablaze by pouring fresh spermaceti intothe furnace of flesh which they had constructed, or rather excavated, inthe back of the leviathan; and so far as that kind of fuel wasconcerned, they might have gone on roasting shark-steaks for atwelvemonth. But they had proved that the spermaceti would not burn toany purpose without a wick; and as their spare ropes were too preciousto be all picked into oakum, they saw the necessity of economising theirstock of the latter article. But for this deficiency, they might havepermitted the furnace-lamp to burn on during the whole night, or untilit should go out by the exhaustion of the wick. 

As they were not yet quite satisfied with the supply of broiledshark-meat, they had resolved to take a fresh spell at roasting on themorrow; and in order that the wick should not be idly wasted, they had"doused the glim" before retiring to rest. 

They had extinguished the flame in a somewhat original fashion, --bypouring upon it a portion of the liquid spermaceti taken out of thecase. The light, after giving a final flash, had gone out, leaving themin utter darkness. 

But they had no difficulty in finding their way back to the deck, oftheir craft, where they designed passing the remainder of the night. During the preceding days they had so often made the passage from_Catamaran_ to _cachalot_, and _vice versa_, that they could have goneeither up or down blindfolded; and indeed they might as well have beenblindfolded on this their last transit for the night, so dense was thedarkness that had descended over the dead whale. 

After groping their way over the slippery shoulders of the leviathan, and letting themselves down by the rope they had attached to his hugepectoral fin, they made their supper upon a portion of the hot roastthey had brought along with them; and, washing it down with a littlediluted "canary, " they consigned themselves to rest. 

Better satisfied with their prospects than they had been for some timepast, they soon fell asleep; and silence reigned around the darkfloating mass that included the forms of _cachalot_ and _Catamaran_. 

At that same moment a less tranquil scene was occurring scarce ten milesfrom the spot; for it is scarce necessary to say that the light seen bythe ruffians on the great raft--and which they had fancifully mistakenfor a ship's galley-fire, --was the furnace fed by spermaceti on the backof the whale. 

The extinction of the flame had led to a scene which was reaching itsmaximum of noisy excitement at about the time that the crew of the_Catamaran_ were munching their roast shark-meat and sipping theircanary. This scene had continued long after every individual of thelatter had sunk into a sweet oblivion of the dangers that surroundedthem. 

All four slept soundly throughout the remainder of the night. Strangeto say, they felt a sort of security, moored alongside that monstrousmass, which they would not have experienced had their frail tiny craftbeen by itself alone upon the ocean. It was but a fancied security, itis true: still it had the effect of giving satisfaction to the spirit, and through this, producing an artificial incentive to sleep. 

It was daylight before any of them awoke, --or it should have beendaylight, by the hour: but there was a thick fog around them, --so thickand dark that the carcass of the _cachalot_ was not visible from thedeck of the _Catamaran_, although only a few feet of water lay betweenthem. 

Ben Brace was the first to bestir himself. Snowball had never been anearly riser; and if permitted by his duties, or the neglect of themeither, he would have kept his couch till midday. Ben, however, knewthat there was work to be done, and no time to be wasted in idleness. The captain of the _Catamaran_ had given up all hopes of the return ofthe whaler; and therefore the sooner they could complete theirarrangements for cutting adrift from the carcass, and continuing theirinterrupted course towards the west, the better would be their chance ofultimately reaching land. 

Snowball, _sans ceremonie_, was shaken out of his slumbers; and theprocess of restoring him to wakefulness also awoke little William andLilly Lalee, --so that the whole crew were now up and ready for action. 

A hasty _dejeuner a la matelot_ served for the morning repast; afterwhich Snowball and the sailor, accompanied by the boy, climbed once moreupon the back of the _cachalot_ to resume the operations which had beensuspended for the night; while the girl, as usual, remained in charge ofthe _Catamaran_. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY. 

SUSPICIOUS SOUNDS. 

The ex-cook, in the lead of those who ascended to the summit of thecarcass, had some difficulty in finding his kitchen; but, after gropingsome time over the glutinous epidermis of the animal, he at length laidhis claws upon the edge of the cavity. 

The others joined him just as he had succeeded in inserting a bit offresh wick; and soon after a strong flame was established, and a freshspitful of shark-steaks hung frizzling over it. 

Nothing more could be done than wait until the meat should be _done_. There was no "basting" required, --only an occasional turning of thesteaks and a slight transposition of them on the harpoon spit, --so thateach should have due exposure to the flame. 

These little culinary operations needed only occasional attention on thepart of the cook. Snowball, who preferred the sedentary _pose_, as soonas he saw his "range" in full operation, squatted down beside it. Hiscompanions remained standing. 

Scarcely five minutes had passed, when the negro was seen to make astart as if some one had given him a kick in the shin. Simultaneouslywith that start the exclamation "Golly!" escaped from his lips. 

"What be the matter, Snowy?" interrogated Brace. 

"Hush! Hab ye no hear nuffin'?"

"No, " answered the sailor, --little William chiming in with the negative. 

"I hab den, --I hab hear someting. "

"What?"

"Dat I doan know. "

"It's the frizzlin' o' those shark-steaks; or, maybe, some sea-birdsqueaking up in the air. "

"No, neyder one nor todder. Hush! Massa Brace, I hab hear some soun''tirely diffrent, --somethin' like de voice ob human man. You obsarbsilence. Maybe we hear im agen. "

Snowball's companions, though inclined to incredulity, obeyed hisinjunction. They might have treated it with less regard, had they notknown the Coromantee to be gifted with a sense of hearing that waswonderfully acute. His largely-developed ears would have proved thiscapacity; but they knew that he possessed it, from having witnessed manyexhibitions of it previous to that time. For this reason they yieldedto his double solicitation, --to remain silent and listen. 

At this moment, to the surprise of Ben Brace and William, and not alittle to the astonishment of the negro, a tiny voice reached them frombelow, --which they all easily recognised as that of Lilly Lalee. 

"O Snowball, " called out the girl, addressing herself to her especialprotector, "I hear people speaking. It's out upon the water. Do younot hear them?"

"Hush! Lilly Lally, " answered the negro, speaking down to his _protege_in a sort of hoarse whisper; "hush, Lilly, pet; doan you 'peak above himLilly Breff. Keep 'till, dat a good gal. "

The child, restrained by this string of cautionary appeals, offered nofurther remark; and Snowball, making a sign for his companions tocontinue silent, once more resumed his listening attitude. 

Ben Brace and the boy, convinced by this additional testimony that theCoromantee must have heard something more than the frizzling of theshark-flesh, without saying a word, imitated his example, and eagerlybent their ears to listen. 

They had not long to wait before becoming convinced that Snowball _had_heard something besides the spirting of the shark-steaks. They heardsomething more themselves. They heard sounds that could not be mistakenfor those of the sea. _They were the voices of Men_!

They were still at some distance, --though, perhaps, not so distant asthey seemed. The thick fog, which, as every one knows, has the effectof deadening sound, was to be taken into account; and, making allowancefor this, the voices heard might not be such a great way off. 

Whatever was the distance, it was constantly becoming less. Thelisteners could tell this, ere they had stood many minutes listening. Whoever gave utterance to those sounds--words they were--must be movingonward, --coming towards the carcass of the _cachalot_. 

How were they coming? They could not be walking upon the water: theymust be aboard a ship?

This interrogatory occurred to those who stood upon the whale. Couldthey have answered it in the affirmative, their own voices would soonhave been uplifted in a joyous huzza; while the hail "Ship ahoy!" wouldhave been sent through the sombre shadows of the mist, in the hope ofits receiving an answer. 

Why was the hail not heard? Why did the crew of the _Catamaran_ standlistening to those voices without making challenge, and with looks thatbetokened apprehension rather than relief?

Six words that escaped from the lips of Ben Brace will explain thesilence of himself and his companions, as well at the dissatisfied airthat had impressed itself upon their faces. The six words were:--

"_Dangnation! it be the big raft_!"

CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE. 

UNPLEASANT CONJECTURES. 

"Dangnation! it be the big raft. "

Such was the singular speech that fell from the lips of the sailor, andwith an accent that proclaimed it ominous. And why ominous? Why shouldthe presence of that embarkation--known to them as the "big raft"--causeapprehension to the crew of the _Catamaran_?

So far as Ben Brace and little William were concerned, the question hasbeen already answered. It may be remembered with what feelings of alarmthey first listened to the voices of Snowball and Lilly Lalee, --heard ina similar manner during the darkness of the night, --and with whatsuspicious caution they had made their approach to the Coromantee in themiddle of his casks. It may be remembered for what reason they werethus suspicious, for it was then given, --a dread on the part ofWilliam--and a great one, too--of being devoured by that cannibal crew;and on the part of his generous protector a fear of becoming a victim totheir revenge. 

The same motive for their fears still existed; and their apprehension ofbeing approached by the raft was as unabated as ever. 

Snowball's dread of the _Pandora's_ people might not have been so acute, but for a certain circumstance that came before his mind. He had beenmade aware, --by sundry ill-usage he had received from the slaver'scaptain and mate, just previous to the climax of the catastrophe, --thathe was himself regarded as the author of it. He knew he had been; andhe supposed that the thing must have become known to the rest of thecrew. He had not encountered them afterwards; and well had it been forhim, --for certainly they would have wreaked their vengeance upon himwithout stint Snowball had sense enough to be aware of this; andtherefore his aversion to any further intercourse with the castaways ofthe lost ship was quite as strong as that of either Ben Brace or theboy. 

As for Lilly Lalee, her fears were due to a less definite cause, andonly arose from observing the apprehension of her companions. 

"De big raff, " said Snowball, mechanically repeating the sailor's lastwords. "You b'lieve 'im be dat, Massa Brace?"

"Shiver my timbers if I know what to think, Snowy! If it be that--"

"Ef 'im be dat, wha' den?" inquired the Coromantee, seeing that Bracehad stopped short in what he was going to say. 

"Why, only that we're in an ugly mess. There's no reason to think theyhave picked up a stock o' provisions, since we parted wi' them. I don'tknow how they've stuck it out, --that is, supposin' it be them. They mayhave got shark-meat like ourselves; or they have lived upon--"

The sailor suddenly suspended his speech, glancing towards William, asif what he was about to say had better not reach the ears of the lad. 

Snowball, however, understood him, --as was testified by a significantshake of the head. 

"As for water, " continued the sailor, "they had some left; but notenough to have lasted them to this time. They had rum, --oceans o'that, --but it 'ud only make things worse. True, they mout a caught someo' the rain in their shirts and tarpaulins, as we did; but they weren'tthe sort to be careful o' it wi' a rum-cask standin' by; an' I dar say, by this time, though they may have some'at to eat, --as you knows, Snowy, --they'll be dyin' for a drop o' drink. In that case--"

"In dat case, dey rob us ob de whole stock we hab save. Den we perishfo' sartin. "

"Sure o' that, at least, " continued the sailor. "But they wouldn't stopby robbin' us o' our precious water. They'd take everything; an' mostlikely our lives into the bargain. Let us hope it ain't them we'veheard. "

"Wha' you say, Master Brace? 'Pose 'um be de capten an' dem odders inde gig? Wha' you tink?"

"It mout, " answered the sailor. "I warn't thinkin' o' them. It moutbe; an' if so, we han't so much to fear as from t' other 'uns. Theyarn't so hard up, I should say; or even if they be, there arn't so manyo' 'em to bully us. There were only five or six o' them. I should begood for any three o' that lot myself; an' I reckon you an' Will'm herecould stan' a tussle wi' the others. Ah! I wish it war them. But itarn't likely: they had a good boat an' a compass in it; and if they'vemade any use o' their oars, they ought to be far from here long aforethis. You've got the best ears, nigger: keep them well set, an' listen. You know the voices o' the ole _Pan's_ crew. See if you can make 'emout. "

During the above dialogue, which had been carried on in an undertone, --awhisper, in fact, --the mysterious voices had not been againdistinguished. When first heard, they appeared to proceed from two ormore men engaged in conversation; and, as we have said, were only veryindistinct, --either from the speakers being at a distance or talking ina low tone of voice. 

The Catamarans now listened, expecting to hear some words pronounced ina louder tone; and yet not wishing to hear them. Rather would they thatthose voices should never again sound in their ears. 

For a time it seemed us if they were going to have this wish gratified. Full ten minutes elapsed, and no sound reached their ears, either ofhuman or other voice. 

This silence was at first satisfactory; but all at once a reflectioncame across the mind of Ben Brace, which gave a new turn to his thoughtsand wishes. 

What if the voices heard had come from a different sort of men? Whyshould they be those of the slaver's castaway crew, --either the ruffianson the raft or the captain's party in the gig? What, after all, if theyhad proceeded from the decks of the whaler?

The old whalesman had not thought of this before; and, now that he didthink of it, it caused such a commotion in his mind, that he couldhardly restrain himself from crying out "Ship ahoy!"

He was hindered, however, by a quick reflection that counselled him tocaution. In case of its not being the whaler's men that had been heardit must be those of the slaver; and the hail would but too certainly bethe precursor to his own destruction, as well as that of his companions. 

In a whisper he communicated his thoughts to Snowball, who becameequally affected by them, --equally inclined to cry "Ship ahoy!" andalike conscious of the danger of doing so. 

A strife of thought was now carried on in the bosoms of both. It waslamentable to reflect, that they might be close to a ship, --withinhailing distance of her, --which could at once have rescued them from allthe perils that surrounded them; and that this ship might be silentlygliding past, shrouded from their sight under that thick fog, --inanother hour to be far off upon the ocean, never to come within hailingdistance again!

A single word--a shout--might save them; and yet they dared not utterit; for the same shout might equally betray, and lead to theirdestruction. 

They were strongly tempted to risk the ambiguous signal. For someseconds they stood wavering between silence and "Ship ahoy!" but cautioncounselled the former, and prudence at length triumphed. 

This course was not adopted accidentally. A process of reasoning thatpassed through the mind of the old whalesman, --founded upon his formerprofessional experiences, --conducted him to it. 

If it be the whale-ship, reasoned he, she must have come back in searchof the _cachalot_. Her crew must have known that they had killed it. The "drogues" and flag proved that belief on their part, and theex-whalesman knew that it would be well worth their while to return insearch of the whale. It was this very knowledge that had sustained hishopes, and delayed him so long by its carcass. A whale, which wouldhave yielded nearly a hundred barrels of spermaceti, was a prize not tobe picked up every day in the middle of the ocean; and he knew that sucha treasure would not be abandoned without considerable search havingfirst been made to recover it. 

All this was in favour of the probability that the voices heard hadproceeded from the whale-ship; and if so, it was farther probable thatin the midst of that fog, while bent upon such an errand, the crew wouldnot care to make way; but, on the contrary, would "lay to, " and wait forthe clearing of the atmosphere. 

In that case the Catamarans might still expect to see the welcome shipwhen the fog should rise; and with this hope they came to thedetermination to keep silence. 

The hour was still very early, --the sun scarce yet above the horizon. When that luminary should appear, his powerful rays would soon dissipatethe darkness; and then, if not before, would they ascertain whetherthose voices had proceeded from the throats of monsters or of men. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO. 

AN INFORMAL INQUEST. 

They did not have to stay for the scattering of the fog. Long beforethe sun had lifted that veil from off the face of the sea, the crew ofthe _Catamaran_ had discovered the character of their neighbours. Theywere not friends, but dire enemies, --the very enemies they so muchdreaded. 

The discovery was not delayed. It was made soon after, and in thefollowing manner:--

The three--Snowball, the sailor, and little William--had kept theirplace on the carcass of the _cachalot_, all three attentivelylistening, --the two last standing up, and the former in a recliningattitude, with his huge ear laid close to the skin of the whale, --asthough he believed that to be a conductor of sound. There was no needfor them to have been thus straining their ears: for when a soundreached them at length, it was that of a voice, --so harsh and loud, thata deaf man might almost have heard it. 

"_Sacre_!" exclaimed the voice, apparently pronounced in an accent ofsurprise, "look here, comrades! Here's a dead man among us!"

Had it been the demon of the mist that gave utterance to these speeches, they could not have produced a more fearful effect upon those who heardthem from the back of the _cachalot_. The accent, along with thatprofane shibboleth, might have proceeded from anyone who spoke thelanguage of France; but the tone of the voice could not be mistaken. Ithad too often rung in their ears with a disagreeable emphasis. "MassaLe Grow, dat am, " muttered the negro. "Anybody tell dat. "

Snowball's companions made no reply. None was required. Other voicesrose up out of the mist. 

"A dead man!" shouted a second. "Sure enough. Who is it?"

"It's the Irishman!" proclaimed a third. "See! He's been killed!There's a knife sticking between his ribs! He's been murdered!"

"That's his own knife, " suggested some one. "I know it; because it oncebelonged to me. If you look you'll find his name on the haft. Hegraved it there the very day he bought it from me. "

There was an interval of silence, as if they had paused to confirm thesuggestion of the last speaker. 

"You're right, " said one, resuming the informal inquest. "There's hisname, sure enough, --_Larry O'Gorman_. "

"He's killed himself!" suggested a voice not hitherto heard. "He'scommitted suicide!"

"I don't wonder at his doing so, " said another, confirmingly. "Heexpected to have to die anyhow; and I suppose he thought the sooner itwas off his mind the better it would be for him. "

"How's that?" inquired a fresh speaker, who appeared to dissent from theopinions of those that had preceded him. "Why should he expect to dieany more than the rest of us?"

"You forget, mate, that the fight was not finished between him andMonsieur Le Gros?"

"No, I don't forget it. Well?"

"Well, yourself!"

"It don't follow he was to be the next to die, --not as I can see. Lookat this, comrades! There's been foul play here! The Irishman's beenstabbed with his own knife. That's plain enough; but it is not so surehe did it himself, Why should he? I say again, there's been foul play?"

"And who do you accuse of foul play?"

"I don't accuse anyone. Let them bring the charge, as have seensomething. Somebody must know how this came about. There's been amurder. Can anyone tell who did it?"

There was a pause of silence of more than a minute in duration. No onemade answer. If anyone knew who was the murderer, they failed toproclaim it. 

"Look here, mates!" put in one, whose sharp voice sounded like the cryof a hyena, "I'm hungry as a starved shark. Suppose we suspend thisinquest, till we've had breakfast. After that we can settle who's donethe deed, --if there's been anyone, except the man himself. What say yeall?"

The horrid proposal was not replied to by anyone. The loud shout thatsucceeded it sprang from a different cause; and the words that wereafterwards uttered had no reference to the topic under consideration. 

"A light! a light!" came the cry, vociferated by several voices. 

"It's the light we saw last night. It's the galley-fire! There's aship within a hundred yards of us!"

"Ship ahoy! ship ahoy!"

"Ship ahoy! what ship's that?"

"Why the devil don't you answer our hail?"

"To the oars, men! to the oars. _Sacre-dieu_! The lubbers must beasleep. Ship ahoy! ship ahoy!"

There was no mistaking the signification of these speeches. The sailorand Snowball exchanged glances of despair. Both had already lookedbehind them. There, blazing fiercely up, was the fire of spermaceti, with the shark-steaks browning in its flame. In the excitement of themoment they had forgotten all about it. Its light, gleaming through thefog, had betrayed their presence to those upon the raft; and the orderissued to take to the oars, with the confused plashing that quicklyfollowed, told the Catamarans that the big raft was about to bear downupon them!

CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE. 

SLIPPING THE CABLE. 

"Dar coming on!" muttered Snowball. "Wha' we better do, Massa Brace?Ef we stay hya dey detroy us fo' sartin. "

"Stay here!" exclaimed the sailor, who no longer spoke in whispers, since such would no longer avail. "Anything but that. Quick, Snowy, --quick, Will'm! Back down to the deck o' our craft. Let's make allspeed, and cast off from the karkiss o' the whale. There be time enoughyet; and then it'll be, who's got the heels. Don't be so bad skeeart, Snowy. The ole _Catamaran_ be a trim craft. I built her myself, wi'your help, nigger; an' I've got faith in her speed. We'll outsail 'emyet. "

"Dat we will, Massa Brace, " assented Snowball, as, close following thesailor, he glided down the rope on to the deck of the _Catamaran_, wherelittle William had already arrived. 

It was the work of only a few minutes to cut the tiny cable by which thelittle embarkation had been attached to the fin of the _cachalot_, andpush the craft clear of its moorings. 

But, short as was the time, during its continuance the sun had produceda wonderful change in that oceanic panorama. 

The floating fog, absorbed by his fervid rays, had almost disappearedfrom the deep, or at all events had become so dissipated that thedifferent objects composing that strange tableau in the proximity of thedead _cachalot_ could all be seen by a single _coup d'oeil_; and werealso in sight of one another. 

There was the huge carcass itself, looming like a great black rock abovethe surface of the sea. Just parting from its side was the little_Catamaran_, with its sail set, and its crew, --consisting of two men anda boy, --the little Portuguese girl appearing as a passenger, --the twomen energetically bending to the oars while the boy held hold of therudder. 

Scarce a hundred yards astern was the larger embarkation, --supportingits score of dark forms, --some seated, and straining at the oars, --somesteering, --others attending to the sail; and one or two standing by thehead, shouting directions to the rest, --all apparently in wonder at thetableau thus suddenly disclosed, and uncertain what to make of it, orwhat course to pursue!

The occupants of the great raft were infinitely more astonished thanthose of the _Catamaran_. On the part of the latter there was no longerany astonishment. On recognising the voices taking part in thatceremonious inquest they had comprehended all. The surprise they had atfirst felt was now changed into terror. 

The men on the raft were still under the influence of astonishment; andno wonder. The apparition that had so suddenly loomed up before theireyes, --at first obscurely seen through the fog, but gradually becomingmore distinct, --was enough to cause any amount of surprise. Such agrouping of strange objects in such a situation! The huge carcass of awhale, --a fire upon its back, with bright flames blazing upward, --acrane over the fire with the curious flitches suspended from it, --araft, in some respects resembling their own, supported by empty casks, and carrying a sail, with four human beings seen upon its deck, --allthese formed a series of phenomena, or facts, that was enough to haveexcited the surprise of the most indifferent observers. Some of the menwere even speechless with wonder, and so continued for a time, whileothers gave vent to their astonishment in loud shouts and excitedgesticulations. 

That first order issued by Le Gros--for it was his voice that had beenheard giving it--had no other object than to cause a rapid movementtowards the dark mass, or rather the beacon seen blazing upon itssummit. The order had been instantly obeyed; for there was aninstinctive apprehension on the part of all that, as before, the lightmight again vanish from their view. 

As they drew nearer, however, and the fog continued to disperse, theyobtained a fairer view. Their surprise was not much diminished, thoughtheir comprehension of the objects before them became rapidly clearer. 

The retreat of the Catamarans--for the movements of the latterproclaimed this design--was of itself suggestive; and, perhaps, morethan aught else, enabled those from whom they were retreating tocomprehend the situation. 

At first they could not even conjecture who they were that occupied thelittle raft. They saw four human beings upon it; but the mist was stillthick enough to hinder them from having a clear view of either theirforms, faces, or features. Through the filmy atmosphere to recognisethem was impossible. Had there been but two, and had the embarkationthat carried them been a mere platform of planks, they might have shapeda conjecture. They remembered that upon such a structure Ben Brace andthe boy had given them the slip; and it might be them. But who were thetwo others? And whence came the six water-casks, the sail, and otherparaphernalia seen upon the escaping craft?

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

Some one made use of the word. It was like proclaiming a reprieve to awretch upon the scaffold about to be launched into eternity. It causedsuch excitement in the minds of the motley crew--all of them sufferingfrom extreme thirst--that, without further hesitancy, they bent eagerlyto their oars, --putting forth the utmost effort of their strength inchase of the _Catamaran_. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR. 

CHAPTER LXXXIV. 

The Chase. 

Half pulling, half trusting to the sail, in a few seconds they werealongside the carcass of the _cachalot_. They saw what it was anddivined how it came to be there; though still puzzled by the pyrotechnicdisplay exhibited on its summit. 

As they passed under the shadow of the huge mass some proposed that theyshould stay by it, --alleging that it would furnish food for all; butthis proposal was rejected by the majority. 

"_Pardieu_!" exclaimed the directing voice of Le Gros; "we have food aplenty. It's drink we want now. There's no water upon the whale; andthere must be some in possession of these runaways, whoever they be. Let us first follow _them_! If we overhaul them, we can come back. Ifnot, we can return all the same!"

This proposal appeared too reasonable to be rejected. A muttered assentof the majority decided its acceptance; and the raft, yielding to therenewed impulse of the rowers, swept past the carcass, --leaving both theblack mass and the blazing beacon astern. 

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

"No fear about our finding the dead fish. This fog is clearing away. In half an hour there won't be a trace of it. We shall be able to makeout the carcass if the whale twenty miles off, --especially with thesmoke of that infernal fire to guide us. Pull like the devil! Be sureof it, there's water in one of those casks we see. Only think ofit, --_water_!"

It scarce needed the repetition of this magic word to stimulate histhirsty companions. They were already pulling with all their strength. 

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

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

The latter were still in a state of ignorance as to who were the fourindividuals so zealously endeavouring to avoid an interview with them. They could perceive that only two of them were full-grown men, and thatthe other two were of smaller size; but this gave them no clew for theidentification 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 havefor a moment supposed that either the black cook, Snowball, or thelittle 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 greatraft; and therefore they were continuing the chase still ignorant of theidentity of those who seemed so desirous of escaping them. 

It was only after the fog had floated entirely away, --or grown so thinas to appear but transparent film, --that the pursuers identified thosethey 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 negrohad stripped to his work, --surmounted by a spherical occiput, --couldbelong to no living creature but the ex-cook of the _Pandora_. It wasSnowball to a certainty!

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

"Lie to, Snowball!" cried several of his old comrades. "Why have youcut your cable in that fashion? Hold on till we come up. We mean youno harm!"

Snowball did hold on; though not in the sense that his former associatesdesired. On the contrary, their request only stimulated him to freshexertions, to avoid the renewal of an acquaintance which he knew wouldcertainly end in his ruin. 

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

What had been only a request, now became a demand, --accompanied bythreats and protestation. Snowball was menaced with the most direvengeance; and told of terrible punishments that awaited him on hiscapture. 

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

Snowball's silent, though evidently determined, rejection of theirdemands had the effect of irritating those who had made them; andstimulated by their spite with more energy than ever did they bendthemselves to the task of overtaking the fugitive craft. 

Two hundred yards still lay between pursuer and pursued. Two hundredyards of clear, unobstructed ocean. Was that distance to becomediminished, to the capture of the _Catamaran_; or was it to beincreased, to her escape?

CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE. 

NEARER AND NEARER. 

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

Both were doing their very utmost, --the former to make their escape, thelatter to prevent it; and very different were the motives by which thetwo parties were actuated. The occupants of the lesser raft believedthemselves to be rowing and sailing for their lives; and they were notfar astray in this belief; while those upon the larger embarkation werepulling after them with the most hostile intentions, --to rob them ofeverything they had got, --even their lives included. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, " ejaculated the sailor, "it 'ud be no use. They'd show us no moremarcy than so many sharks. I know it by their ways. Don't lose astroke, Snowy. We may tire 'em out yet. "

"Nebba fear fo' me, Massa Brace!" replied the Coromantee. "A keeppullin' so long's de be a poun' o' trength in ma arms, or a bit o' breffin ma body. Nebba fear!"

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

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

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

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

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

He had imparted his observation to Snowball, and it was this thatcontinued to inspire them with a hope of ultimate escape. Both believedthat, with a strong wind in their favour, they would have the advantageof the pursuer; and so, while still bending all their energies to thepropulsion of the _Catamaran_, they kept their eyes almost continuallyfixed upon the sea astern, --even with a more anxious glance than thatwith which they regarded their pursuers. 

"If we can keep out o' their way, " muttered he to his fellow oarsman, "only twenty minutes longer! By that time yonder breeze 'll be down onus; and then we'll ha' some chance. There be no doubt but they'regainin' on us now. But the breeze be a gainin' on them, --equally, ifnot faster. O if we only had a puff o' yonder wind! It be blowin'fresh and strong. I can see it curlin' up the water not three knotsastarn o' the big raft. Pull for your life, Snowy. Shiver my timbers!they be a gainin' on us faster than ever!"

There was a despairing tone in these last words, that told how fearfulappeared their situation to the captain of the _Catamaran_; and the signof assent made by Snowball in reply, --an ominous shake of the head, --showed that the ex-cook shared the apprehensions of his comrade. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX. 

CUT IN TWAIN. 

For some seconds the sailor and Snowball remained silent, --both too busywith their oars, as well as their eyes, to find time for speech. 

Their pursuers were noisy enough. They had kept quiet, so long as thereappeared to be any uncertainty about the results of the chase; but assoon as they became assured that their clumsy craft was going fasterthan that of which they were in pursuit, --and they no longer felt doubtabout overtaking the latter, --their fiendish voices once more filled theair; and commands for the Catamarans to come to, --with threats ofrevenge in case of non-compliance, --were hurled after the fugitives. 

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

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

It need scarce be said that the statement--whether true or fallacious, --acted as a stimulus to his comrades at the oar. The word "water" wasmusic to their ears; and, on hearing it pronounced, one and all of themput forth their utmost strength. 

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

The crew of the latter beheld the proximity with despair. They saw theblack waves, with white curling crests, coming on behind. They saw thesky becoming overcast above their heads; but it appeared only to scowlupon them, --as if to make darker the dread doom that was now threateningso 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 whiteteeth, as they shone through his black beard, imparting to him aferocity 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 adrink out of your water-cask. Ha! ha! ha!"

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

"Nebba, Massa Grow!" defiantly retorted Snowball? "you nebba 'kin disnigga 'live. He go die 'fore you do dat. He got him knife yet. Bygolly! me kill more than one ob you 'fore gib in. So hab a care, MassaGrow! You lay hand on ole Snowy, you cotch de tarnel goss. "

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

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

For a second or two there was a struggle, which would have ended in thetwo rafts being brought in contact with one another but for an adroitstroke given by the oar of the English sailor. This not only detachedthe boat-hook from its grip, but also from the grasp of Le Gros, andsent the implement shivering through the air. 

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

This was exactly what had occurred: for as soon as the spectators inboth crafts could recover from their surprise, they saw only so much ofMonsieur 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 theplanks that prevented him from sinking wholly into the water. 

Perhaps it would have been better for him had he made a complete plungeof it. At all events, a bold "header" could not have had for him a moreunfortunate ending. Scarce had he sunk between the timber when a wildshriek came forth from his throat, --accompanied by a pallor ofcountenance, and a contortion of his features, that proclaimed somethingmore than a mere "start" received by suddenly sinking waist-deep intothe sea. 

One of his comrades, --the confederate ruffian already spoken of, --rushedforward to raise him out of the trap, --from which he was evidentlyunable to extricate himself. 

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

This singular conduct was explained on looking at the object from whichhe had made such a precipitate retreat. It was no longer Le Gros, noreven Le Gros's body; but only the upper half of it, cut off by theabdomen, as clean as if it had been severed by a pair of giganticshears!

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

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

CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN. 

AN UNLOOKED-FOR DELIVERANCE. 

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

This pause in the action was in favour of the _Catamaran_, whose sailingqualities were superior to those of her pursuer. Her crew, moreover, less caring for what had happened to Monsieur Le Gros, were the first torecover from their surprise; and before the comrades of the half-eatenFrenchman thought of continuing the chase, they had forced ahead severallengths of their craft from the dangerous contiguity so near beingestablished between them. 

The ruffian crew--now castaways--of the _Pandora_ had been awed by thestrange incident, --so much so as to believe, for a time, that somethingmore than chance had interfered to bring it about. They were not allfriends of the unfortunate man, who had succumbed to such a singularfate. The inquest that had been interrupted was still fresh in theirminds, and many of them believed that the inquiry--had it proceeded to ajust termination--would have resulted in proving the guilt of Le Gros, and proclaiming him the murderer of O'Gorman. 

Under this belief, there were many aboard the big raft that would nothave cared to continue the chase any further, had it merely been toavenge the death of their late leader. With them, as with the others, there was a different motive for doing so, --a far more powerfulincentive, --and that was the thirst which tortured all, and the beliefthat 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 altogetherforgotten, when the cry of "Water!" once more rising in their midst, urged them to resume the pursuit. 

Once more did they betake themselves to their oars, --once more did theyexert their utmost strength, --but with far less effect than before. They were still stimulated by the torture of thirst; but they no longeracted with that unanimity which secures success. The head that hadhitherto guided them with those imperious eyes--now glaring ghastly fromthe extremity of the severed trunk--was no longer of authority amongthem; and they acted in that undecided and irregular manner alwayscertain to result in defeat. 

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

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 ofshadowed water. It had developed during the continuance of the chase, and now covered both sea and sky, --the latter with black cumbrousclouds, the former with quick curling waves, that lashed the water-caskssupporting both rafts, and proclaimed the approach, if not of a storm, at least a fresh breeze, --likely to change the character of the chasehitherto kept up between them. 

And very quickly came that change to pass. By the time that thecastaways on the great raft had once more headed their clumsyembarkation to the pursuit, they saw the more trim craft, --by herbuilders yclept the _Catamaran_--with her sails spread widely to thewind, gliding rapidly out of their reach, and "walking the water like athing of life. "

They no longer continued the pursuit. They might have done so, but forthe waves that now, swelling up around the raft, admonished them of adanger hitherto unknown. With the spray rushing over them, and the sea, at each fresh assault, threatening to engulf their ill-governed craft, they found sufficient employment for their remaining strength, inclinging to the timbers of their rude embarkation. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY EIGHT. 

A THREATENED STORM. 

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

Ben Brace actually believed it so. It would have been difficult foranyone to have thought otherwise; but the moral mind of the sailor hadof late undergone some very serious transformations; and the perilsthrough which they had been passing, --with their repeated deliverances, all apparently due to some unseen hand, --had imbued him with a beliefthat the Almighty must be everywhere, --even in the midst of theillimitable ocean. 

It was this faith that had sustained him through the many trials throughwhich they had gone; and that, in the very latest and last, --when theruffians upon the raft were fast closing upon the _Catamaran_, --had ledhim to give encouraging counsels to Snowball to keep on. It hadencouraged him, in fine, to strike the boat-hook from the grasp of LeGros, --which act had ended by putting their implacable enemy _hors ducombat_, and conducting to their final deliverance. 

It was this belief that still hindered the brave mariner, --now that thesea began to surge around them, and the spray to dash over the deck oftheir frail craft, --hindered him from giving way to a new despair; andfrom supposing that they had been only delivered from one danger to beoverwhelmed 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 soopportunely carried the _Catamaran_ beyond the reach of the pursuingraft, soon freshened into a gale; and threatened to continue increasingto that still more dreaded condition of the ocean atmosphere, --a storm. 

The rafts were no longer in sight of each other. Scarce five minuteshad elapsed, after being grappled by Le Gros, when the breeze had caughthold of the _Catamaran_; and, from her superior sailing qualities, shehad soon become separated from the more clumsy embarkation of the enemy. 

In another hour, the _Catamaran_, under good steering, had swept severalmiles to westward; while the raft, no longer propelled by oars, and itsrudder but ill-directed, had gone drifting about: as if they whooccupied it were making only a despairing effort to keep it before thewind. 

Despite the rising gale and the increasing roughness of the water, therewere no despairing people upon the _Catamaran_. Supported by his faithin providential protection, Ben Brace acted as if there was no danger;and encouraged his companions to do the same. 

Every precaution was adopted to provide against accidents. As soon asthey saw that the pursuer was left behind, --and they were no longer inany peril from that quarter, --the sail was lowered upon the mast, asthere was too great a breadth of it for the constantly fresheningbreeze. It was not taken in altogether, but only "shortened, "--reefedin a rude fashion, --so as to expose only half its surface to the wind;and this proved just sufficient to keep the _Catamaran_ "trim" andsteady upon her course. 

It would not be correct to say that her captain and crew felt no fearsfor her safety. On the contrary, they experienced the apprehensionsnatural to such a situation; and for this reason did they take everyprecaution against the danger that threatened. The Coromantee mighthave given way to a feeling of fatalism, --peculiar to his country andclass, --but there was no danger of Ben Brace doing so. Notwithstandinghis faith about being protected by Providence, the sailor also believed, that self-action is required on the part of those who stand in need ofsuch protection; and that nothing should be left undone to deserve it. 

The situation was altogether new to them. It was the first thing in theshape of a storm, or even a gale, they had encountered since theconstruction of their curious craft. Ever since the burning of the_Pandora_, they had been highly favoured in this respect. They had beennavigating their various embarkations through a "summer sea, " in themidst of the tropical ocean, --where ofttimes whole weeks elapse withouteither winds or waves occurring to disturb its tranquillity, --a sea, inshort, where the "calm" is more dreaded than the "storm. " Up to thistime they had not experienced 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 endin a storm, --perhaps a terrific tempest. 

It would be untrue to say that her crew looked forward to the eventwithout fear. They did not. As said, they suffered considerableapprehension; and would have felt it more keenly, but for the cheeringinfluence of that faith with which her captain was sustained, and whichhe endeavoured to impart to his companions. 

Leaning upon this, they looked with less dread upon the sky loweringabove and the storm gathering around them. 

As the day advanced the wind continued to freshen until about the hourof noon. It was then blowing a brisk gale. Fortunately for the crew ofthe _Catamaran_, it did not become a storm. Had it done so their frailcraft must have been shivered, and her component parts once morescattered over the ocean. 

It was just as much as her crew could accomplish to keep them together, in a sea only moderately rough, --compared with what it would have beenin a storm. This they discovered during the afternoon of that day; andit was no great comfort to them to reflect that, in the event of a realstorm being encountered, the _Catamaran_ would undoubtedly go to pieces. They could only console themselves with the hope that such an eventmight not arise until they should reach land, or, which was perhaps moreprobable, be picked up by a ship. 

The chances of terminating their perilous voyage in either way were soslight and distant, that they scarce gave thought to them. When theydid, it was only to be reminded of the extreme hopelessness of theirsituation, and yield to despairing reflections. On that particular daythey had no time to speculate upon such remote probabilities as theultimate ending of their voyage. They found occupation enough, --bothfor their minds and bodies, --in insuring its continuance. Not only hadthey 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 thetimbers of the craft, and see that the lashings did not get loose. 

Several times did the sea break quite over them; and but that LillyLalee and little William were fast tied to the foot of the mast, theywould both have been washed off, and probably lost amidst the dark wasteof waters. 

It was just as much as the two strong men could do to keep aboard andeven they had ropes knotted round their wrists and attached to thetimbers of the raft, --in case of their getting carried overboard. 

Once a huge billow swept over, submerging them several feet under thesea. At this crisis all four thought that their last hour had come, andfor some seconds were under the belief that they were going to thebottom, 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; but those buoyant water-casks were not to be"drowned" in such a fashion and soon "bobbed" back to the surface, oncemore bringing the _Catamaran_ and her crew above water. 

It was fortunate for them that Ben Brace and Snowball had not trustedtoo much to fate while constructing their abnormal craft. Theexperienced sailor had foreseen the difficulties that on this day besetthem; and, instead of making a mere temporary embarkation, to suit theconditions of the summer sea that then surrounded them, he had spared nopains to render it seaworthy as far as circumstances would allow. Heand Snowball had used their united strength in drawing tight the cordswith which the timbers were bound together, --as well as those thatlashed them to the casks, --and their united skill in disposing the rudematerials in a proper manner. 

Even after "launching" the _Catamaran_, --every day, almost every hour, had they been doing something to improve her, --either by giving thecraft greater strength and compactness, or in some other way renderingher more worthy both of the sea and her sailors. 

By this providential industry they were now profiting: since by it, andit alone, were they enabled to "ride out" the gale. 

Had they trusted to chance and given way to indolence, --all the morenatural under the very hopelessness of their situation, --they wouldnever have outlived that day. The _Catamaran_ might not have gone tothe bottom, but she would have gone to pieces; and it is not likely thatany of her crew would have survived the catastrophe. 

As it was, both raft and crew weathered the gale in safety. Beforesunset the wind had fallen to a gentle zephyr; the tropical sea wasgradually returning to its normal state of comparative calm; and the_Catamaran_, with her broad sail once more spread to the breeze, wasscudding on, --guided in her course by the golden luminary slowlydescending towards the western edge of a cloudless heaven. 

CHAPTER EIGHTY NINE. 

A STARTLING SHRIEK. 

The night proved pleasanter than the day. The wind was no longer anenemy; and the breeze that succeeded was more advantageous than wouldhave been a dead calm; since it steadied the craft amidst the rolling ofthe swell. 

Before midnight the swell itself had subsided. It had never reached anygreat height, as the gale had been of short continuance; and for thesame reason it had suddenly gone down again. 

With the return of smooth water they were able to betake themselves torest. They needed it, after such a series of fatigues and fears; andhaving swallowed a few morsels of their unpalatable food, and washed itdown by a cup of diluted Canary, they all went to rest. 

Neither the wet planking on which they were compelled to encouchthemselves, nor the sea-soaked garments clinging round their bodies, hindered them from obtaining sleep. 

In a colder clime their condition would have been sufficientlycomfortless; but in the ocean atmosphere of the torrid zone the nighthours are warm enough to render "wet sheets" not only endurable, but attimes even pleasant. 

I have said that all of them went to sleep. It was not their usualcustom to do so. On other nights one was always upon the watch, --eitherthe captain himself, the ex-cook, or the boy. Of course Lilly Laleeenjoyed immunity from this kind of duty: since she was not, properlyspeaking, 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, --thelatter having reference to the chance if seeing a sail. 

On this particular night their vigil, --had it been kept, --might have hada threefold purpose: for it is not to be forgotten that they were stillnot so very far from their late pursuers. They too must have beenmaking way with the wind. 

Neither had the Catamarans forgotten it; but even with this thoughtbefore their minds, they were unable to resist the fascinations ofMorpheus; and leaving the craft to take her own course, the ships, ifthere were any, to sail silently by, and the big raft, if chance sodirected it, to overtake them, they yielded themselves to unconsciousslumber. 

Simultaneously were they awakened, and by a sound that might haveawakened the dead. It was a shriek that came pealing over the surfaceof the ocean, --as unearthly in its intonation as if only the oceanitself could have produced 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 character. 

"Wha' de debbil am dat?" he asked, rubbing his ears to make sure that hewas not labouring under a delusion. 

"Shiver my timbers if I can tell!" rejoined the sailor, equally puzzledby 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 troof. It wa jess like that, --jess like thelass s'riek ob Massa Grow. "

"And yet, " continued the sailor, after a moment's reflection, "'t warn'tlike that neyther. 'T warn't human, nohow: leastwise, I niver heerdsuch come out o' a human throat. "

"A don't blieb de big raff can be near. We hab been runnin' down dewind ebba since you knock off dat boat-hook. We got de start o' de_Pandoras_; an' dar's no mistake but we hab kep de distance. Dat s'riekno come from dem. "

"Look yonder!" cried little William, interrupting the dialogue. "I seesomething. "

"Whereaway? What like be it?" inquired the sailor. 

"Yonder!" answered the lad, pointing over the starboard bow of the_Catamaran_; "about three cables' length out in the water. It's a blacklump; it looks like a boat. "

"A boat! Shiver my timbers if thee bean't right, lad. I see it now. It do look somethin' as you say. But what ul a boat be doin' here, --outin the middle o' the Atlantic?"

"Dat am a boat, " interposed Snowball. "Fo' sartin it am. "

"It must be, " said the sailor, after more carefully scrutinising it. "It is! I see its shape better now. There's some un in it. I see onlyone; ah, he be standin' up in the middle o' it, like a mast. It be aman though; an' I dare say the same as gi'ed that shout, if he be ahuman; though, sartin, there warn'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 thatwere awake, it produced a somewhat different impression. 

The voice was evidently that of a man. Even under the circumstances, itcould 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 hadthey been treated only to a repetition of the shriek; but this wasfollowed by a series of speeches, --incoherent, it is true, but spoken inan intelligible tongue, and ending in a peal of laughter such as mightbe heard echoing along the corridors of a lunatic asylum!

One and all of them stood looking and listening. 

It was a moonless night, and had been a dark one; but it was now closeupon morning. Already had the aurora tinged the horizon with roseatehues. The grey light of dawn was beginning to scatter its soft raysover the surface of the ocean; and objects--had there been any--could bedistinguished at a considerable distance. 

Certainly there was an object, --a thing of boat-shape, with a human formstanding near its middle. It was a boat, a man in it; and, from theexclamation and laughter to which they had listened, there could be nodoubt about the man being mad. 

Mad or sane, why should they shun him? There were two strong men on theraft, who need not fear to encounter a lunatic under anycircumstances, --even in the midst of the ocean. Nor did they fear it;for as soon as they became fully convinced that they saw a boat with aman in it, they "ported" the helm of the _Catamaran_, and stood directlytowards it. 

Less than ten minutes' sailing in the altered course brought them withinfair view of the object that had caused them to deviate; and, afterscrutinising it, less than ten seconds enabled them to satisfy theirminds as to the strange craft and its yet stranger occupant. 

They saw before them the "gig" of the slaver; and, standing "midships"in the boat, --just half-way between stem and stern, --they saw thecaptain of that ill-starred, ill-fated vessel!

CHAPTER NINETY. 

A MADMAN IN MID-OCEAN. 

In the minds of the _Catamaran's_ crew there was no longer any cause forconjecture. The boat-shaped object on the water, and the human formstanding up within it, were mysteries no more; nor was there any whenthat boat and that human being were identified. 

If in the spectacle there was aught still to puzzle them, it was theseeing only one man in the boat instead of six. 

There should have been six; since that was the number that the gig hadoriginally carried away from the burning bark, --five others besides theone now seen, --and who, notwithstanding a great change in hisappearance, was still recognisable as the slaver's captain. 

Where were the missing men, --the mates, the carpenter and two commonsailors, who had escaped along with him? Were they in the boat, lyingdown, and so concealed from the view of those upon the _Catamaran_? Orhad they succumbed to some fearful fate, leaving only that solitarysurvivor?

The gig sat high in the water. Those upon the _Catamaran_ could not seeover its gunwale unless by approaching nearer, and this they hesitatedto do. 

Indeed, on identifying the boat and the individual standing in it, theyhad suddenly hauled down the sail and were lying to, using their oar tokeep them from drifting any nearer. 

They had done so from an instinctive apprehension. They knew that themen who had gone off in the gig were not a whit better than those uponthe 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 questionfor consideration whether the Catamarans would be safe in approachingthe boat. If the six were still in it, and out of food and water, likethose on the large raft, they would undoubtedly despoil the _Catamaran_, just as the others had designed doing. From such as they no mercy needbe expected; and as it was not likely any succour could be obtained fromthem, it would, perhaps, be better, in every way, to "give them a wideberth. "

Such were the thoughts that passed hastily through the mind of BenBrace, and were communicated to his companions. 

Were the five missing men still aboard the boat?

They might be lying down along the bottom, --though it was not likelythey could be asleep? That appeared almost impossible, considering theshouts and screams which the captain at intervals still continued tosend forth. 

"By de great gorramity!" muttered Snowball, "a doan't b'lieb one obdem's leff 'board dat boat, 'ceptin de ole 'kipper himseff; an ob himdar am nuffin leff cep'n de body. Dat man's intlek am clar gone. He amravin' mad!"

"You're right, Snowy, " assented the sailor; "there be ne'er a one therebut himself. At all events they ain't all there. I can tell by the waythe gig sits up out o' the water. No boat o' her size, wi' six menaboard, could have her gunnel as high as that ere. No! If there be anybesides the captain, there's only one or two. We needn't fear to go asnigh as we like. Let's put about, an' board the craft, anyhow. Whatsay ye?"

"Haben't de leas' objecshun, 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 'nuff to bully we nohow. De two ob us be equalmatch fo' any four ob dem, --say nuffin ob lilly Will'm. "

"I feel a'most sartin, " rejoined the sailor, still undecided, "there beonly him. If that's the case, our best way is to close up, and takepossession o' the boat. We may have some trouble wi' him if be's gonemad; an' from the way he be runnin' on, it do look like it. Never mind!I dare say we'll be able to manage him. Port about, an' let a see thething through. "

Snowball was at the steering-oar, and, thus commanded by her captain, heonce more headed the _Catamaran_ in the direction of the driftingboat, --while the sailor and William betook them to the oars. 

Whether the occupant of the gig had yet perceived the raft was notcertain. It is likely he had not, since the yells and incoherentspeeches to which he had been giving utterance appeared to be addressedto no one, but were more like--what they believed them to be--the wildravings of a lunatic. 

It was still only the grey twilight of morning, with a slight fog uponthe water; and although through this the Catamarans had recognised thegig and captain of the _Pandora_ they had done so with certain souvenirsto guide them. Both the boat and its occupant had been seen onlyindistinctly: and it was possible that the latter had not seen them, andwas 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 their being seen; for, alongwith the yells uttered by the occupant of the gig, could be heard thesignificant speeches of, "Sail ho! Ship ahoy! What ship's that? Heaveto, and be--Heave to, you infernal lubbers! if you don't I'll sink you!"

The manner in which these varied phrases were jumbled together, intermingled with screeching exclamations, as well as the excited andgrotesque gestures that accompanied them, might have been ludicrous, butfor the painful impression it produced. 

There was no longer any doubt in the minds of those who witnessed hisbehaviour, that the ex-skipper of the _Pandora_ was mad. None but amadman would have spoken, or acted, as he was doing. 

In the state he was in, it would be dangerous to go near him. This wasevident to the occupants of the raft; and when they had arrived within ahalf-cable's length of the boat, they suspended the stroke of theoars, --with the intention of entering upon a parley, and seeing how fartheir words might tranquillise him. 

"Captain!" cried the sailor, hailing his former commander in a friendlytone of voice: "it's me! Don't you know me? It's Ben Brace, one o' theold _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 epitomised narrative was interrupted by afiendish yell, proceeding from the throat of the maniac. They were nownear enough to have a clear view of his face, and could note theexpression of his features. The play of these, and the wild rolling ofhis eyes, confirmed them in their belief as to his insanity. Therecould be no doubt about it; but if there had, what soon after succeededwas proof sufficient to satisfy them. 

During the continuance of the discourse addressed to him by the sailor, he had kept silent, until the word "Snowball" fell upon his ears. Thenall at once he became terribly excited, --as was testified by a terribleshriek, a twitching contortion of his features, and a glaring in hiseyes that was awful to behold. 

"Snowball!" screamed he; "Snowball, you say, do you? Snowball, theinfernal dog! Show him to me! Ach! Blood and furies! it was he thatfired my ship. Where is he? Let me at him! Let me lay my hands uponhis black throat! I'll teach the sneaking nigger how to carry a candlethat'll light him into the next world. Snowball! Where, --where is he?"

At this moment his rolling orbs became suddenly steadied; and all couldsee that his gaze was fixed upon the Coromantee with a sort of desperateidentification. 

Snowball might have quailed under that glance, had there been time forhim to take heed of it. But there was not: for upon the instant it wasgiven 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, risingto the surface, he was seen swimming with vigorous sweep towards the_Catamaran_. 

CHAPTER NINETY ONE. 

THE INSANE SWIMMER. 

A dozen strokes would have carried him up to the craft; which they couldnot have hindered him from boarding, except by using some deadlyviolence. To avoid this, the oars were plied; and the raft rapidlypulled in a contrary direction. 

For all this, so swiftly did the maniac make way through the water, thatit was just as much as they could do to keep the _Catamaran_ clear ofhis grasp; and it was only after Ben Brace and Snowball had got fairlybent to their oars, that they could insure themselves against beingovertaken. Then became it a chase in which there was no great advantagein speed between the pursued and the pursuer; though what little theremight have been was in favour of the former. 

How long this singular chase might have continued, it is impossible tosay. Perhaps until the lunatic had exhausted his insane strength, andsunk into the sea: since he appeared to have no idea of making anattempt to return to the boat. He never looked round to see how far hewas leaving it behind him. On the contrary, he swam straight on, hiseyes steadfastly fixed upon the one object that seemed to havepossession of his soul, --the Coromantee! That it was of him only he wasthinking could be told from his speech, --for even while in the water hecontinued to utter imprecations on the head of the negro, --his namebeing every moment mentioned in terms of menace. 

The chase could not have lasted much longer, --even had it been permittedto terminate by the exhaustion of the insane swimmer. The supernaturalstrength of insanity could not forever sustain him; and in due time hewould have sunk helplessly to the bottom of the sea. 

But this was not the sort of death that Fate had designed for him. Astill more violent ending of his life was in store for the unfortunatewretch. Though he himself knew it not, those aboard the _Catamaran_ hadnow become aware of its approach. 

Behind him, --scarce half a cable's length, --two creatures were seenmoving through the water. Horrible-looking creatures they were: forthey were hammer-headed sharks! Both were conspicuously seen: for theyhad risen to the surface, and were swimming with their dark dorsal finsprotruded above, and set with all the triangular sharpness 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, --onwhich, beyond doubt, they had been for some time attending. 

They were now advancing side by side, in the same direction as theswimmer, and there could be no doubt as to their design. They wereevidently in chase of _him_, with as much eagerness as he was in chaseof the _Catamaran_. 

The wretched man neither saw nor thought of them. Even had he seen themit is questionable whether he would have made any attempt to escape fromthem. They would, in all likelihood, have appeared a part of thefearful phantasmagoria already filling his brain. 

In any case he could not have eluded those earnest and eager pursuers, --unless by the intervention of those upon the raft; and even had thesewished to succour him, it would have required a most prompt and adroitinterference. They _did_ wish it, even became desirous to save him. Their hearts melted within them as they saw the unfortunate man, maniacthough he was, in such a situation. Fear him as they might, --and deemhim an enemy as they did, --still was he a human being, --one of their ownkind, --and their natural instinct of hostility towards those ravenousmonsters of the deep had now obliterated that which they might have feltfor him about to become their prey. 

Risking everything from the encounter which they might expect with amadman, they suspended their oars, and then commenced backing towardshim. Even Snowball exerted himself to bring the _Catamaran_ withinsaving distance of the wretch who, in his insane hatred, was threateninghis own destruction. 

Their good intentions, however, proved of no avail. The man wasdestined to destruction. Before they could get near enough to make anyeffective demonstration in his favour, the sharks had closed upon him. They who would have saved him saw it, and ceased their exertions tobecome spectators of the tragical catastrophe. 

It was a brief affair. The monsters swam up, one on each side of theirintended victim, till their uncouth bodies were parallel with his. Hesaw one of them first, and, with an instinct more true than hisdethroned powers of reason, swerved out of the way to avoid it. Theeffort resulted in placing him within reach of the other, that, suddenlyturning upon its side, grasped him between its extended jaws. 

The shriek that followed appeared to proceed from only the half of hisbody; for the other half, completely dissevered, had been alreadycarried off between the terrible teeth of the _zygaena_. 

There was but one cry. There was not time for another, even had therebeen strength. Before it could have been uttered, the remaining moietyof the madman's body was seized by the second shark, and borne down intothe voiceless abysm of the ocean!

CHAPTER NINETY TWO. 

BOARDING THE BOAT. 

Back to the boat! In the minds of the _Catamaran's_ crew naturally didthis resolve succeed to the spectacle they had just witnessed. Therewas nothing to stay them on that spot. The bloodstained water, whichmomentarily marked the scene of the tragedy, had no further interest forthose who had been spectators to it; and once more heading their craftfor the drifting gig, they made way towards it as fast as their oars andthe 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, itwas scarce possible that anyone, in either condition, could be aboard ofher. She must have been abandoned, before that hour, by all but thesolitary individual standing amidships, and pouring out his insaneutterances to the ears of the ocean. 

Where were the men that were missing? This was the question thatoccupied the crew of the _Catamaran_, --as they advanced towards thedeserted gig--and to which they could give no satisfactory answer. 

They could only shape conjectures, --none of which had much air ofprobability. 

From what they knew or suspected to have occurred upon the large raftthey could draw inferences of a revolting nature. It might be that thesame course had been pursued among those in the gig; and yet it seemedscarce probable. It was known that the latter had gone off from theburning bark, if not sufficiently provided for a long voyage, at leastwith a stock of both food and water that should have sustained them formany days. Little William had been a witness of their departure, andcould confirm these facts. Why then had their boat-voyage resulted sodisastrously? It could not have arisen from want. It could not havebeen the gale. 

In all probability, had the sea washed over them, the boat would eitherhave been swamped or capsized. The captain alone could not have rightedher. Besides, why should he be the only survivor of the six?

But there had not been storm enough for a disaster of this kind; andunless by some dire mismanagement, the men could not have fallenoverboard. 

Still puzzled to account for the strange condition of things, the crewof the _Catamaran_ continued to pull towards the gig, and at length cameup with it. 

There they beheld a horrid spectacle, though it afforded no clue to whathad occurred. In fact it left the affair as inexplicable as ever. Whatthey saw gave them reason to believe that some terrible tragedy hadtranspired on board the boat; and that not the elements, but the hand ofman, had caused the disappearance of the crew. 

Along the bottom timbers lay stretched a human form. It was not onlylifeless, but disfigured by many wounds, --anyone of which would haveproved mortal. The face was gashed in the most frightful manner; andthe skull crushed in several places, as if by repeated blows of a heavyhammer, while numerous wounds, that had been inflicted by somesharp-bladed weapon or implement, appeared over the breast and body. 

This mutilated shape of humanity was lying half submerged in thebilge-water contained in the boat, and which looked more like blood. Sodeep was it in colour, and in such quantity, that it was difficult tobelieve it could have been stained by the blood of only that one body, to which in turn, as the red fluid went washing over it, had beenimparted the same sanguinary hue. 

The features of the hideous corpse could not be identified. The axe, knife, or whatever weapon it was, had defaced them beyond recognition;but for all this, both Ben Brace and Snowball recognised the mutilatedremains. Something in the garments still clinging round the corpse wasremembered, and by this they were enabled to identify it as that of onetoo well-known to them, --the first mate of the slaver. 

Instead of elucidating the mystery, this knowledge only rendered it moreinexplicable. It was evident the man had been murdered. The woundsproved that; for from the appearance of the extravasated blood they musthave been given while he was still alive. 

It was but natural to suppose that the deed had been done by his insanecompanion. The number and character of the wounds, --consisting ofblows, cuts, and gashes, showed that they had been inflicted by some oneout of his senses; for life must have been extinct before half of themcould have been given. 

So far the circumstances seemed clear enough. The maniac captain hadmurdered the mate. No motive could be guessed at; for no motive wasneeded to inspire a madman. 

Beyond this all was shrouded in mystery. What was to explain theabsence of the other four? What had become of them? The crew of the_Catamaran_ could only frame conjectures, --all of a horrid nature. Thatof Snowball was the most rational that could be arrived at. 

It suggested the probability that the first mate and captain hadcombined in the destruction of the others, --their motive being to getall the food and water themselves, and thus secure a better chance ofprolonging their lives. They might have accomplished their atrociousdesign in various ways. There might have been a struggle in which thesetwo men, --much stronger than their fellows, --had proved victorious; orthere might not have been any contest at all. The foul crime could havebeen committed in the night, when their unsuspicious comrades wereasleep; or even by the light of day, when the latter were under thespell of intoxication, --produced by the brandy that had furnished partof the stores of the gig. 

All these were horrid imaginings; but neither Snowball nor the sailorcould help giving way to them. Otherwise they could not account for thedreadful drama of which that bloodstained boat must have been the scene. 

Supposing their conjectures to have been correct, no wonder that thesole survivor of such scenes should have been found a raving lunatic, --no wonder the man had gone mad!

CHAPTER NINETY THREE. 

THE CATAMARAN ABANDONED. 

For some time the crew of the _Catamaran_ stood contemplating the gigand its lifeless occupant, with looks that betokened repugnance. 

By reason of the many dread scenes they had already passed through, thisfeeling was the less intense, and gradually wore away. It was neitherthe time nor the place for any show of sentimentalism. Their ownperilous situation was too strongly impressed on their minds to admit ofunprofitable speculations; and instead of indulging in idle conjecturesabout the past, they directed their thoughts to the future. 

The first consideration was, what was to be done with the gig?

They would take possession of her, of course. There could be noquestion about this. 

It is true the _Catamaran_ had done them good service. She had servedto keep them afloat, and thus far saved their lives. 

In calm weather they could have made themselves very comfortable ontheir improvised embarkation; and might have remained safe upon it, solong as their water and provisions lasted. But with such a slow-sailingcraft the voyage might last longer than either; and then it could onlyresult in certain death. They might not again have such good fortune inobtaining fish; and their stock of water once exhausted, it was tooimprobable to suppose they should ever be able to replenish it. Theremight not be another shower of rain for weeks; and even should it fall, it might be in such rough weather that they could not collect a singlequart of it. Her slow-sailing was not the only objection to the_Catamaran_. Their experience in the gale of the preceding night hadtaught them, how little they could depend upon her in the event of areal storm. In very rough weather she would certainly be destroyed. Her timbers under the strain would come apart; or, even if they shouldstick together, and by the buoyancy of the empty casks continue to keepafloat, the sea would wash over them all the same and either drown orotherwise destroy them. 

In such a long time as it must take before reaching land, they could notexpect to have a continuance of fair weather. 

With the gig, --a first-rate craft of its kind, --the case would bedifferent. 

Ben Brace well knew the boat, for he had often been one of its crew ofrowers. 

It was a fast boat, --even under oars, --and with a sail set to it, and afair wind, they might calculate upon making eight or ten knots an hour. This would in no great time enable them to run down the "trades, " andbring them to some port of the South American coast, --perhaps to Guiana, or Brazil. 

These speculations occupied them only a few seconds of time. In factthey had passed through their minds long before they arrived alongsidethe gig; for they were but the natural considerations suggested by thepresence of the boat. 

They were now in possession of a seaworthy craft. It seemed as ifProvidence had thrown it in their way; and they had no idea ofabandoning it. On the contrary, it was the raft which was to bedeserted. 

If they hesitated about transferring themselves and their chattels fromthe _Catamaran_ to the gig, it was but for a moment; and that briefspace of time was only spent in considering how they might bestaccomplish the transfer. 

The boat had first to be got into a fit state for their reception; andas soon as they had recovered from the shock caused by that hideousspectacle, the sailor and Snowball set to work to remove the body out ofsight, as well as every trace of the sanguinary strife that must havetaken place. 

The mutilated corpse was cast into the sea, and sank at once under thesurface, --though perhaps never to reach the bottom, for those tworavenous monsters were still hovering around the spot, in greedyexpectation of more food for their insatiable stomachs. 

The red bilge-water was next baled out of the boat, --the inside timberscleared of their ensanguined stains, and swilled with clean water fromthe sea; which was in its turn thrown out, until no trace remained ofthe frightful objects so lately seen. 

A few things that had been found in the boat were permitted to remain:as they might prove of service to the crew coming into possession. Among these there was not a morsel of food, nor a drop of drinkingwater; but there was the ship's compass, still in good condition; andthe sailor knew that this treasure was too precious to be parted with:as it would enable them to keep to their course under the most cloudedskies. 

As soon as the gig was ready to receive them, the "stores" of the_Catamaran_ were transferred to it. The cask of water was carefullyhoisted aboard the boat, --as also the smaller cask containing theprecious "Canary. " The dried fish packed inside the chest, the oars, and other implements were next carried over the "gangway" between thetwo crafts, --each article being stowed in a proper place within the gig. 

There was plenty of room for everything: as the boat was a large one, capable of containing a dozen men; and of course ample for theaccommodation of the _Catamaran's_ crew, with all their _impedimenta_. 

The last transfer made was the mast and sail, which were "unshipped"from the _Catamaran_ to be set up on the gig, and which were just of theright size to suit the latter craft. 

There was nothing left upon the raft that could be of any use to them ontheir boat-voyage; and after the mast and sail had been removed, the_Catamaran_ appeared completely dismantled. 

As they undid the lashings, --which during the transfer had confined herto the gig, --a feeling of sadness pervaded the minds of her former crew. They had grown to feel for that embarkation, --frail and grotesque as itwas, --a sort of attachment; such as one may have for a loved home. Tothem it had been a home in the midst of the wilderness of waters; andthey could not part from it without a strong feeling of regret. 

Perhaps it was partly for this reason they did not at once dip theiroars into the water and row away from the raft; though they had anotherreason for lingering in its proximity. 

The mast had to be "stepped" in the gig and the sail bent on to it; and, as it seemed better that these things should be done at once, they atonce set about doing them. 

During the time they were thus engaged, the boat drifted on with thebreeze, making two or three knots to the hour. But this caused noseparation between the two crafts; for the same breeze carried thedismantled raft--now lying light upon the water--at the like rate ofspeed; and when at length the mast stood amidships in the gig, and thesailyard was ready to be hauled up to it, there was scarce a cable'slength between them. 

The _Catamaran_ was astern, but coming on at a fair rate of speed, --asif determined not to be left behind in that lone wilderness of waters!

CHAPTER NINETY FOUR. 

A "SCHOOL" OF SPERM-WHALES. 

To all appearance the hour had arrived when they were to look their laston the embarkation that had safely carried them through so many dangers. In a few minutes their sail would be spread before a breeze, that wouldimpel their boat at a rapid rate through the water; and in a short timethey would see no more of the _Catamaran_, crawling slowly after them. A few miles astern, and she would be out of sight, --once and forever. 

Such was their belief, as they proceeded to set the sail. 

Little were they thinking of the destiny that was before them. Fate hadnot designed such a sudden separation; and well was it for them that the_Catamaran_ had clung so closely upon their track, as still to offerthem an asylum, --a harbour of refuge to which they might retreat, --forit was not long before they found themselves in need of it. 

As stated, they were proceeding to set the sail. They had got theirrigging all right, --the canvas bent upon the yard, the halliards rove, and everything except hauling up and sheeting home. 

These last operations would have been but the work of six seconds, andyet they were never performed. 

As the sailor and Snowball stood, halliards in hand, ready to hoist up, an exclamation came from little William, that caused both of them tosuspend proceedings. 

The boy stood gazing out upon the ocean, --his eyes fixed upon someobject that had caused him to cry out. Lalee was by his side also, regarding the same object. 

"What is it, Will'm?" eagerly inquired the sailor, hoping the lad mighthave made out a sail. 

William had himself entertained this hope. A whitish disk over thehorizon had come under his eye; which for a while looked like spreadcanvas, but soon disappeared, --as if it had suddenly dissolved into air. 

William was ashamed of having uttered the exclamation, --as being guiltyof causing a "false alarm. " He was about to explain himself, when thewhite object once more rose up against the sky, --now observed by all. 

"That's what I saw, " said the alarmist, confessing himself mistaken. 

"If ye took it for a sail, lad, " rejoined the sailor, "you war mistaken. It be only the spoutin' o' a sparmacety. "

"There's more than one, " rejoined William, desirous of escaping from hisdilemma. "See, yonder's half a dozen of them!"

"Theer ye be right, lad, --though not in sayin' there's half a dozen. More like there be half a hundred o' 'em. There's sure to be thatnumber, whar you see six a-blowin' at the same time. There be a`school' o' them, I be bound, --maybe a `body. '"

"Golly!" cried Snowball, after regarding the whales for a moment, "deyam a-comin' dis way!"

"They be, " muttered the old whalesman, in a tone that did not show muchsatisfaction at the discovery. "They're coming right down upon us. Idon't like it a bit. They're on a `passage, '--that I can see; an' it bedangerous to get in their way when they're goin' so, --especially aboarda craft sich as this un'. "

Of course the setting of the sail was adjourned at this announcement; asit would have been, whether there had been danger or not. A school ofwhales, either upon their "passage" or when "gambolling, " is a spectacleso rare, at the same time so exciting, as not to be looked upon withoutinterest; and the voyager must be engrossed in some very seriousoccupation who can permit it to pass without giving it his attention. 

Nothing can be more magnificent than the movements of these vastleviathans, as they cleave their track through the blue liquidelement, --now sending aloft their plume-like spouts of white vapour, --now flinging their broad and fan-shaped flukes into the air; at timesbounding with their whole bodies several feet above the surface, anddropping back into the water with a tremendous concussion, that causesthe sea to swell into huge foam-crested columns, as if a storm waspassing over it. 

It was the thought of this that came into the mind of the ex-whalesman;and rendered him apprehensive, --as he saw the school of _cachalots_coming on towards the spot occupied by the frail embarkation. He knewthat the swell caused by the "breaching" of a whale is sufficient toswamp even a large-sized boat; and if one of the "body" now bowling downtowards them should chance to spring out of the water while passingnear, it would be just as much as they could do to keep the gig fromgoing upon her beam-ends. 

There was not much time to speculate upon chances, or probabilities. When first seen, the whales could not have been more than a miledistant: and going on as they were, at the rate of ten knots an hour, only ten minutes elapsed before the foremost was close up to the spotoccupied by the boat and the abandoned raft. 

They were not proceeding in a regular formation; though here and therefour or five might have been seen moving in a line, abreast with oneanother. The whole "herd" occupied a breadth extending about a mileacross the sea; and in the very centre of this, as ill-luck would haveit, lay the cockle-shell of a boat and the abandoned raft. 

It was one of the biggest "schools" that Ben Brace had ever seen, consisting of nearly a hundred individuals, --full-grown females, followed by their "calves, "--and only one old bull, the patron andprotector of the herd. There was no mistaking it for a "pod" ofwhales, --which would have been made up of young males just escaped frommaternal protection, and attended by several older individuals of theirown sex, --acting as trainers and instructors. 

Just as the _ci-devant_ whalesman had finished making this observation, the _cachalots_ came past, causing the sea to undulate for miles aroundthe spot, --as if a tempest had swept over, and was succeeded by itsswell. One after another passed with a graceful gliding, that mighthave won the admiration of an observer viewing it from a position ofsafety. But to those who beheld it from the gig, there was an idea ofdanger in their majestic movement, --heightened by the surf-like sound oftheir respirations. 

They had nearly all passed, and the crew of the gig were beginning tobreathe freely; when they perceived the largest of the lot--the oldbull--astern of the rest and coming right towards them. His head, withseveral fathoms of his back, protruded above the surface, which atintervals he "fluked" with his tail, --as if giving a signal to thosepreceding him, either to direct their onward course, or warn them ofsome threatened danger. 

He had a vicious look about him, --notwithstanding his patriarchalappearance, --and the ex-whalesman uttered an exclamation of warning ashe approached. 

The utterance was merely mechanical, since nothing could be done to wardoff the threatened encounter. 

Nothing was done. There was no time to act, nor even to think. Almoston the same instant in which the warning cry was heard the whale wasupon them. He who had uttered it, along with his companions, feltthemselves suddenly projected into the air, as if they had been tossedfrom a catapult, and their next sensation was that of taking "atremendous header" into the depths of the fathomless ocean!

All four soon came to the surface again; and the two who had bestretained their senses, --the sailor and Snowball, --looked around for thegig. There was no gig in sight, nor boat of any kind! Only somefloating fragments; among which could be distinguished a cask or two, with a scattering of loose boards, oars, handspikes, and articles ofapparel. Among these were struggling two youthful forms, --recognisableas little William and Lilly Lalee. 

A quick transformation took place in the tableau. 

A cry arose, "Back to the _Catamaran_!" and in a score of seconds theboy-sailor was swimming alongside the A. B. For the raft; while theCoromantee, with Lilly Lalee hoisted upon his left shoulder, wascleaving the water in the same direction. 

Another minute and all four were aboard the embarkation they had solately abandoned, --once more saved from the perils of the deep!

CHAPTER NINETY FIVE. 

WORSE OFF THAN EVER. 

There was no mystery about the incident that had occurred. It hadscarce created surprise; for the moment that the old whalesman felt theshock, he knew what had caused it, as well as if he had been a simplespectator. 

The others, warned by him that danger might be expected in the passageof the whales--though then unapprised of its exact nature--were fullyaware of it now. It had come and passed, --at least, after mounting oncemore upon the raft, they perceived that their lives were no longer inperil. 

The occurrence needed no explanation. The detached timbers of the gigfloating about on the water, and the shock they had experienced, toldthe tale with sufficient significance. They had been "fluked" by thebull-whale, whose fan-shaped tail-fins, striking the boat in an upwarddirection, had shattered it as easily as an eggshell, tossing thefragments, along with the contents, both animate and inanimate, severalfeet into the air. 

Whether it were done out of spite or wanton playfulness, or for thegratification of a _whalish_ whim, the act had cost the huge leviathanno greater effort than might have been used in brushing off a fly; andafter its accomplishment the old bull went bowling on after itsfrolicsome school, gliding through the water apparently with as muchunconcern as if nothing particular had transpired!

It might have been nothing to him, --neither the capsize nor itsconsequences; but it was everything to those he had so unceremoniouslyupset. 

It was not until they had fairly established themselves on the raft, andtheir tranquillity had become a little restored, that they could reflectupon the peril through which they had passed, or realise the fulness oftheir misfortune. 

They saw their stores scattered about over the waves, --their oars andimplements drifting about; and, what was still worse, the greatsea-chest of the sailor, which, in the hurry of the late transfer, hadbeen packed full of shark-flesh, they could not see. Weighted as itwas, it must have gone to the bottom, carrying its precious contentsalong with it. 

The water-cask and the smaller one containing the Canary were stillafloat, for both had been carefully bunged; but what mattered drink ifthere was no meat?--and not a morsel appeared to be left them. 

For some minutes they remained idly gazing upon the wreck, --a spectacleof complete ruin. One might have supposed that their inaction proceededfrom despair, which was holding them as if spellbound. 

It was not this, however. They were not the sort to give way todespair. They only waited for an opportunity to act, which they couldnot do until the tremendous swell, caused by the passage of the whales, should to some extent subside. 

Just then the sea was rolling "mountains high, " and the raft on whichthey stood--or rather, crouched--was pitching about in such a manner, that it was as much as they could do to hold footing upon it. 

Gradually the ocean around them resumed its wonted tranquillity; and, asthey had spent the interval in reflection, they now proceeded to action. 

They had formed no definite plans, further than to collect the scatteredmaterials, --such of them as were still above water, --and, if possible, re-rig the craft which now carried them. 

Fortunately the mast, which had been forced out of its "stepping" in thetimbers of the gig and entirely detached from the broken boat, was seendrifting at no great distance off, with the yard and sail still adheringto it. As these were the most important articles of which the_Catamaran_ had been stripped, there would be no great difficulty inrestoring her to her original entirety. 

Their first effort was to recover some of the oars. This was notaccomplished without a considerable waste of time and a good deal ofexertion. On the dismantled embarkation there was not a stick thatcould be used for rowing; and it was necessary to propel it with theiroutspread palms. 

During the interval of necessary inaction, the floating fragments of thewreck had drifted to a considerable distance, --or rather had the raft, buoyed up by its empty casks, glided past them, and was now severalcable-lengths to leeward. 

They were compelled, therefore, to work up the wind and their progresswas consequently slow, --so slow as to become vexatious. 

Snowball would have leaped overboard, and recovered the oars byswimming: but the sailor would not listen to this proposal, pointing outto his sable companion the danger to be apprehended from the presence ofthe sharks. The negro made light of this, but his more prudent comraderestrained him; and they continued patiently to paddle the raft withtheir hands. At length a pair of oars were got hold of; and from thatmoment the work went briskly on. 

The mast and sail were fished out of the sea and dragged aboard; thecasks of water and wine were once more secured; and the stray implementswere picked up one after another, --all except those of iron, includingthe axe, which had gone to the bottom of the Atlantic. 

Their greatest loss had been the chest and its contents. This wasirreparable; and in all probability the precursor of a still moreserious misfortune, --the loss of their lives. 

CHAPTER NINETY SIX. 

THE DARKEST HOUR. 

Death in all its dark reality once more stared them in the face. Theywere entirely without food. Of all their stores, collected and curedwith so much care and ingenuity, not a morsel remained. Besides whatthe chest contained there had been some loose flitches of the dried fishlying about upon the raft. These had been carried into the boat, andmust have been capsized into the sea. While collecting the other_debris_, they had looked for them in hopes that some stray pieces mightstill be picked up; not one had been found. If they floated at all, they must have been grabbed by the sharks themselves, or some otherravenous creatures of the deep. 

Had any such waifs come in their way, the castaways just at that crisismight not have cared to eat them with the bitterness they must havederived from their briny immersion; still they knew that in due timethey would get over any daintiness of this kind; and, indeed, beforemany hours had elapsed, all four of them began to feel keenly thecravings of a hunger not likely to refuse the coarsest or mostunpalatable food. Since that hurried retreat from their moorings by thecarcass of the _cachalot_ they had not eaten anything like a regularmeal. 

The series of terrible incidents, so rapidly succeeding one another, along with the almost continuous exertions they had been compelled tomake, had kept their minds from dwelling upon the condition of theirappetites. They had only snatched a morsel of food at intervals, andswallowed a mouthful of water. 

Just at the time the last catastrophe occurred they had been intendingto treat themselves to a more ceremonious meal, and were only waitinguntil the sail should be set, and the boat gliding along her course, toenter upon the eating of it. 

This pleasant design had been frustrated by the flukes of the whale;which, though destroying many other things, had, unfortunately, notinjured their appetites. These were keen enough when they firstreoccupied their old places on the _Catamaran_; but as the day advanced, and they continued to exert themselves in collecting the fragments ofthe wreck, their hunger kept constantly increasing, until all fourexperienced that appetite as keenly as they had ever done since thecommencement of their prolonged and perilous "cruise. "

In this half-famished condition it was not likely they should have anygreat relish for work; and as soon as they had secured the variouswaifs, against the danger of being carried away, they set themselves toconsider what chance they had to provide themselves with a fresh stockof food. 

Of course their thoughts were directed towards the deep, or rather itsfinny denizens. There was nothing else above, beneath, or around themthat could have been coupled with the idea of food. 

Their former success in fishing might have given them confidence, --andwould have done so but for an unfortunate change that had taken place intheir circumstances. 

Their hooks were among the articles now missing. The harpoons whichthey had handled with such deadly effect upon the carcass of the_cachalot_ had been there left, --sticking up out of the back of the deadleviathan composing that improvised spit erected for roasting theshark-steaks. In short, every article of iron, --even to their ownknives, which had been thrown loosely into the boat, --was now at thebottom of the sea. 

There was not a moiety of metal left out of which they could manufacturea fish-hook; and if there had been it would not have mattered much, since they could not discover a scrap of meat sufficient to have baitedit. 

There seemed no chance whatever of fishing or obtaining fish in anyfashion; and after turning the subject ever and over in their minds, they at length relinquished it in despair. 

At this crisis their thoughts reverted to the _cachalot_, --not the live, leaping leviathan, whose hostile behaviour had so suddenly blightedtheir bright prospects; but the dead one, upon whose huge carcass theyhad so lately stood. There they might still find food, --moreshark-meat. If not, there was the whale-beef, or blubber: coarseviands, it is true, but such as may sustain life. Of that there wasenough to have replenished the larder of a whole ship's crew, --of asquadron!

It was just possible they could find their way back to it, for the wind, down which they had been running, was still in the same quarter; and thewhole distance they had made during the night might in time berecovered. 

At the best, it would have been a difficult undertaking and doubtful ofsuccess, even if there had been no other obstacle than the elementsstanding in their way. 

But there was, --one more dreaded than either the opposition of the windor the danger of straying from their course. 

In all likelihood their pursuers had returned to the spot which they hadforsaken; and might at that very moment be mooring their craft to thehuge pectoral fin that had carried the cable of the _Catamaran_. 

In view of this probability, the idea of returning to the dead whale wasscarce entertained, or only to be abandoned on the instant. 

Cheerless were the thoughts of the Catamarans as they sat pondering uponthat important question, --how they were to find food, --cheerless as theclouds of night that were now rapidly descending over the surface of thesea, and shrouding them in sombre gloom. 

Never before had they felt so dispirited, and yet never had they been sonear being relieved from their misery. It was the darkest hour of theirdespondency, and the nearest to their deliverance; as the darkest hourof the night is that which precedes the day. 

CHAPTER NINETY SEVEN. 

A CHEERING CUP. 

They made no attempt to move from the spot upon which the sun saw themat setting. 

As yet they had not restored the mast with its sail; and they had nomotive for toiling at the oar. All the little way they might make byrowing was not worth the exertion of making it; and indeed it had nowbecome a question whether there was any use in attempting to continuetheir westward course. There was not the slightest chance of reachingland before starvation could overtake them; and they might as wellstarve where they were. Death in that shape would not be more endurablein one place than another; and it would make no difference under whatmeridian they should depend the last few minutes of their lives. 

Into such a state of mind had these circumstances now reduced them, --astupor of despair rather than the calmness of resignation. 

After some time had been passed in this melancholy mood, --passed underdarkness and in sombre silence, --a slight circumstance partially arousedthem. It was the voice of the sailor, proposing "supper!" One hearinghim might have supposed that he too had taken leave of his senses. Notso, nor did his companions so judge him. They knew what he meant by theword, and that the assumed tone of cheerfulness in which he pronouncedit had been intended to cheer them. Ben's proposal was not without somesignificance; though to call it "supper" of which it was designed theyshould partake was making a somewhat figurative use of the phrase. 

No matter; it meant something, --something to supply the place of asupper, --if not so substantial as they would have wished, at leastsomething that would not only prolong their lives, but for a whilelighten their oppressed spirits. It meant a cup of Canary. 

They had not forgotten their possession of this. Had they done so, theymight have yielded to even a deeper despair. A small quantity of theprecious grape-juice was still within the cask, safe stowed in its oldlocker. They had hitherto abstained from touching it, with the view ofkeeping it to the last moment that it could be conveniently hoarded. That moment seemed to Ben Brace to have arrived, when he proposed a cupof Canary for their supper. 

Of course no objection was made to a proposition equally agreeable toall; and the stopper was taken from the cask. 

The little measure of horn, which had been found floating among the_debris_ of the wrecked gig, was carefully inserted upon its string, drawn out filled with the sweet wine, and then passed from lip to lip, --the pretty lips of the Lilly Lalee being the first to come in contactwith it. 

The "dipping" was several times repeated; and then the stopper wasrestored to its place, and without any further ceremony, the "supper"came to an end. 

Whether from the invigorating effects of the wine, or whether from thatnatural reaction of spirits ever consequent on a "spell" of despondency, both the sailor and Snowball, after closing the cask, began to talk overplans for the future. Hope, however slight, had once more made entryinto their souls. 

The subject of their discourse was whether they should not forthwithre-step the mast and set the sail. The night was as dark as pitch, butthat signified little. They could manipulate the "sticks, " ropes, andcanvas without light; and as to the lashings that would be required, there could be no difficulty in making them good, if the night had beenten times darker than it was. This was a trope used by Snowball on theoccasion, regardless of its physical absurdity. 

One argument which the sailor urged in favour of action was, that bymoving onward they could do no harm. They might as well be in motion asat rest, since, with the sail as their motive power, it would require noexertion on their part. Of course this reasoning was purely negative, and might not have gone far towards convincing the Coromantee, --whosefatalist tendencies at times strongly inclined him to inaction. But hiscomrade backed it by another argument, of a more positive kind, to whichSnowball more readily assented. 

"By keepin' on'ard, " said Ben, "we'll be more like to come in sight o'somethin', --if there be anythin' abroad. Besides, if we lay here like alog, we'll still be in danger o' them ruffians driftin' down on us. Yeknow they be a win'ard, an' ha' got theer sail set, --that is, if theybean't gone back to the sparmacety, which I dar say they've done. Inthat case there moutn't be much fear o' 'em; but whether or no, it bebest for us to make sure. I say let's set the sail. "

"Berra well, Massa Brace, " rejoined the Coromantee, whose opposition hadbeen only slight. "Dar am troof in wha you hab 'ledged. Ef you say setde sail, I say de same. Dar am a lubbly breeze bowlum. 'Pose we 'tickup de mass dis berry instam ob time?"

"All right!" rejoined the sailor. "Bear a hand, my hearties, and let'sgo at it! The sooner we spread the canvas the better. "

No further words passed, except some muttered phrases of direction orcommand proceeding from the captain of the _Catamaran_ while engagedwith his crew in stepping the mast. This done, the yard was hauled"apeak, " the "sheets" drawn "taut" and "belayed, " and the wet canvas, spread out once more, became filled with the breeze, and carried thecraft with a singing sound through the water. 

CHAPTER NINETY EIGHT. 

A PHANTOM SHIP OR A SHIP ON FIRE?

With the _Catamaran_ once more under sail, and going on her due course, her crew might have seemed restored to the situation held by themprevious to their encountering the dead _cachalot_ Unfortunately forthem, this was far from being the case. 

A change for the worse had occurred in their circumstances. Then theywere "victualled"--if not to full rations, at least with storescalculated to last them for some time. They were provided, moreover, with certain weapons and implements that might be the means ofreplenishing their stores in the event of their falling short. 

Now it was altogether different. The _Catamaran_ was as true andseaworthy as ever, her "rig" as of yore, and her sailing qualities notin the least impaired. But her "fitting out" was far inferior, especially in the "victualling department"; and this weighed heavilyupon the minds of her crew. 

Notwithstanding the depression of their spirits, which soon returnedagain, they could not resist an inclination for sleep. It is to beremembered that they had been deprived of this on the preceding nightthrough the violence of the gale, and that they had got but very littleon the night before that from being engaged in scorching theirshark-meat. 

Exhausted nature called loudly for repose; and so universally, that thecomplete crew yielded to the call, not even one of them remaining incharge of the helm. 

It had been agreed upon that the craft should be left to choose its owntrack; or rather, that which the wind might select for it. 

Guided by the breath of heaven, and by that alone, did the _Catamaran_continue her course. 

How much way she made thus left alone to herself is not written down inher "log. " The time alone is recorded; and we are told that it was thehour of midnight before any individual of her crew awoke from thatslumber, to which "all hands" had surrendered after setting her sail. 

The first of them who awoke was little William. The sailor-lad was nota heavy sleeper at any time, and on this night in particular hisslumbers had been especially _unsound_. There was trouble on his mindbefore going to sleep, an uneasiness of no ordinary kind. It was notany fear for his own fate. He was a true English tar in miniature, andcould not have been greatly distressed with any apprehensions of apurely selfish nature. Those that harassed him were caused by hisconsideration for another, --for Lilly Lalee. 

For days he had been observing a change in the appearance of the child. He had noticed the gradual paling of her cheek, and rapid attenuation ofher form, --the natural consequence of such a terrible exposure to oneaccustomed all her days to a delicate and luxurious mode of existence. 

On that day in particular, after the fearful shock they had allsustained, the young Portuguese girl had appeared, --at least, in theeyes of little William, --more enfeebled than ever; and the boy-sailorhad gone to sleep under a sad foreboding that she would be the first tosuccumb, --and that soon, --to the hardships they were called upon toencounter. 

Little William loved Lilly Lalee with such love as a lad may feel forone of his own age, --a love perhaps the sweetest in life, if not themost lasting. 

Inspired by this juvenile passion, and by the apprehensions he had forits object, the boy-sailor did not sleep very soundly. 

Fortunate that it was so; else that brilliant flame that near themid-hours of night glared athwart the deck of the _Catamaran_ might nothave awakened him; and had it not done so, neither he nor his threecompanions might ever again have looked upon human face except theirown, and that only to see one another expire in the agonies of death. 

There was a flame far lighting up the sombre surface of the ocean thatshone upon the sleepy Catamarans. Gleaming in the half-closed eye ofthe sailor-lad, it awoke him. 

Starting up, he beheld an apparition, which caused him surprise, notunmingled with alarm. It was a ship beyond doubt, --or the semblance ofone, --but such as the sailor-lad had never before seen. 

She appeared to be on fire. Vast clouds of smoke were rising up fromher decks, and rolling away over her stern, illuminated by columns ofbright flame that jetted up forward of her foremast, almost to theheight of her lower shrouds. No man unaccustomed to such a sight couldhave looked upon that ship without supposing that she was on fire. 

Little William should have been able to judge of what he saw. Unfortunately for himself, the spectacle of a ship on fire was not newto him. He had witnessed the burning of the bark which had borne himinto the middle of the Atlantic, and left him where he now was, in aposition of extremest peril. 

But the memory of that conflagration did not assist him in determiningthe character of the spectacle now before his eyes. On the decks of the_Pandora_ he had seen men endeavouring to escape from the flames, inevery attitude of wild terror. On the ship now in sight he beheld thevery reverse. He saw human beings standing in front of the column offire, not only unconcerned at its proximity, but apparently feeding theflames!

It was a spectacle to startle the most experienced mariner, and callforth the keenest alarm, --a sight to suggest the doubleinterrogatory, --"Is it a phantom ship, or a ship on fire?"

CHAPTER NINETY NINE. 

A WHALER "TRYING-OUT. "

In making the observations above detailed, the boy-sailor had beenoccupied scarce ten seconds of time, --only while his eye took in thesingular spectacle thus abruptly brought before it. He did not stay toseek out of his own thoughts an answer to the question that suggesteditself; but giving way to the terrified surprise which the apparitionhad caused him, he raised a shout which instantly awoke his companions. 

Each of the three, on the instant of their awaking, gave utterance to aquick cry, but their shouts, although heard simultaneously, weresignificant of very different emotions. The cry of the girl was simplya scream, expressive of the wildest terror. That of Snowball was aconfused mingling of surprise and alarm; while to the astonishment ofWilliam, and the other as well, the utterance of the sailor was a shoutof unrestrained joy, accompanied by the action of suddenly springing tohis feet, --so suddenly that the _Catamaran_ was in danger of beingcapsized by the abrupt violence of the movement. 

He did not give them time to ask for an explanation, but on the momentof getting himself into an erect attitude he commenced a series ofshouts and exclamations, all uttered in the very highest key of whichhis voice was capable. 

And among these utterances, and conspicuously intoned, was thewell-known hail, "Ship ahoy!" followed by other nautical phrases, denoting the recognition of a ship. 

"Golly! it am a ship, " interposed Snowball, "a ship on de fire!"

"No! no!" impatiently answered the ex-whalesman, "nothing o' the sort. It's a whaler `tryin'-out' her oil. Don't you see the men yonder, standin' by the try-works, are throwin' in the `scraps'? Lord o' mercy!if they should pass us without hearing our hail! Ship ahoy! whalerahoy!" And the sailor once more put forth his cries with all the powerthat lay in his lungs. 

To this was added the stentorian voice of the Coromantee, who, quicklycatching the explanation given by the ex-whalesman, saw the necessity ofmaking himself heard. 

For some moments the deck of the _Catamaran_ rang with the shouts, "Shipahoy!"

"Whaler ahoy!" that might have been heard far over the ocean, --muchfarther than the distance at which the strange vessel appeared to be;but, to the consternation of those who gave utterance to those cries, noanswer was returned. 

They could now distinctly see the ship, and almost everything aboard ofher; for the two columns of flame rising high in forward of herforemast, out of the huge double furnace of the "try-works, " illuminatednot only the decks of the vessel, but the surface of the sea for milesaround her. 

They could see rolling sternward immense volumes of thick smoke, gleaming yellow under the light of the blazing fires; and the figures ofmen looming like giants in the glare of the garish flames, --somestanding in front of the furnace, others moving about, and activelyengaged in some species of industry, that to the eye of any other than awhalesman might have appeared supernatural. 

Notwithstanding the distinctness with which they saw all these things, and the evident proximity of the ship, those on the raft could not makethemselves heard, shout as loudly as they would. 

This might have appeared strange to the Catamarans, and led them tobelieve that it was, in reality, a phantom ship they were hailing, andthe gigantic figures they saw were those of spectres instead of men. 

But the experience of the ex-whalesman forbade any such belief. He knewthe ship to be a whaler, the moving forms to be men, --her crew, --and heknew, moreover, the reason why these had not answered his hail. Theyhad not heard it. The roaring of the great furnace fires either drownedor deadened _every_ other sound; even the voices of the whalesmenthemselves, as they stood close to each other. 

Ben Brace remembered all this; and the thought that the ship might passthem, unheard and unheeded, filled his mind with dread apprehension. 

But for a circumstance in their favour this might have been thelamentable result. Fortunately, however, there was a circumstance thatled to a more happy termination of that chance encounter of the twostrange crafts, --the _Catamaran_ and the whale-ship. 

The latter, engaged, as appearances indicated, in the process of"trying-out" the blubber of some whale lately harpooned, was "laying-to"against the wind; and, of course not making much way, nor caring to makeit, through the water. 

As she was coming up slowly, her head set almost "into the wind's eye, "the Catamarans, well to windward, would have no difficulty in gettingtheir craft close up to her. 

The sailor was not slow in perceiving their advantageous position; andas soon as he became satisfied that the distance was too great for theirhail to be heard, he sprang to the steering-oar, turned the helm "hard aport, " and set his craft's head on towards the whaler, as if determinedto run her down. 

In a few seconds the raft was surging along within a cable's length ofthe whaler's bows, when the cry of "Ship ahoy!" was once more raised byboth Snowball and the sailor. Though the hail was heard, the reply wasnot instantaneous; for the crew of the whale-ship, guided by the shoutsof those on the raft, had looked forth upon the illumined water, and, seeing such a strange embarkation right under their bows, were for somemoments silent through sheer surprise. 

The ex-whalesman, however, soon made himself intelligible, and in tenminutes after the crew of the _Catamaran_, instead of shivering in wetclothes, with hungry stomachs to make them still more miserable, mighthave been seen standing in front of an immense fire, with an amplesupply of wholesome food set before them, and surrounded by a score ofrude but honest men, each trying to excel the other in contributing totheir comfort. 

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED. 

THE END OF THE "YARN. "

Ocean Waifs no longer, the crew of the _Catamaran_ became embodied withthat of the ship, and her little passenger found kindness and protectionin the cabin of the whaler. 

The _Catamaran_ herself was not "cut loose" in the nautical sense of theterm, and abandoned, but she was cut loose in a literal sense, and inpieces hoisted aboard the ship to be employed for various purposes, --herropes, spars, and sail to be used at some time as they had beenoriginally intended--her other timbers to go to the stock of thecarpenter, and her casks to the cooper, to be eventually filled with theprecious sperm-oil which the ship's crew were engaged in trying out. 

The old whalesman was not long aboard before getting confirmed in hisconjecture that the ship was the same whose boats had harpooned and"drogued" the _cachalot_, the carcass of which had been encountered bythe _Catamaran_. It was one of a large "pod" of whales, of which theboats had been in pursuit, and these, along with the ship, havingfollowed its companions to a great distance, and killed several of themin the chase, had lost all bearings of the one first struck. 

It had been their intention to go in search of it, as soon as theyshould try out the others that had been captured; and the informationnow given by Ben Brace to the captain of the whaler would enable thelatter the more easily to discover the lost prize, which he estimated atthe value of seventy or eighty barrels of oil, and therefore well worththe trouble of going back for. On the day after the castaways had beentaken aboard, the whale-ship, having extinguished the fires of hertry-works, started in search of the drogued whale. 

The ex-crew of the _Catamaran_ had by this time given a full account oftheir adventures to the whalesmen; at the same time expressing theirbelief that the ruffians on the big raft would be found by the carcassthey were in search of. The prospect of such an encounter could notfail to interest the crew of the whaler; and as they advanced in thedirection in which they expected to find the drogued _cachalot_, alleyes were bent searchingly upon the sea. 

So far as the dead whale was concerned, they were successful in theirsearch. Just as the sun was going down, they came in sight of it; andbefore the twilight had passed they "hove to" along side of it. Thevast flock of sea birds perched upon the floating mass, and that roseinto the air as the ship approached them, proclaimed the absence ofhuman beings. The great raft was not there, nor were there anyindications that it had revisited the carcass. On the contrary, thatcurious structure, the crane, which the Catamarans had erected on thesummit of the floating mass, was still standing just as they had leftit; only that the flakes of shark's flesh were scorched to the hue andtexture of a cinder, and the fire that had burnt them was no longerblazing beneath. 

The fate of the slaver's castaway crew did not long remain a mystery. Three days after, when the carcass of the _cachalot_ had been "flensed"and tried out, and the whaler had once more proceeded upon her cruise, she chanced upon a spot where the sea was strewn with a variety ofobjects, among which were two or three spars of a ship, and severalempty water-casks. In these objects there was no difficulty inrecognising the wreck of the _Pandora's_ raft, which was drifting at nogreat distance from the place where they had been cutting up the_cachalot_. 

The conclusion was easily arrived at. The gale, which had beensuccessfully weathered by the carefully constructed _Catamaran_, hadproved too violent for the larger embarkation, loosely lashed together, and negligently navigated as it was. As a consequence it had gone topieces; while the wretches who had occupied it, not having the strengthto cling either to cask or spar, had indubitably gone to the bottom. Aslittle William afterwards related--

"So perished the slaver's crew. Not one of them, --either those in thegig or on the raft, ever again saw the shore. They perished upon theface of the wide ocean--miserably perished, without hand to help or eyeto weep over them!"

In truth did it seem as if their destruction had been an act of theOmnipotent Himself, to avenge the sable-skinned victims of theiratrocious cruelty!

Were it our province to write the after history of the Catamarans, wecould promise ourselves a pleasant task, perhaps pleasanter thanrecording the cruise of that illustrious craft. 

We have space only to epitomise. The day after setting foot upon thedeck of the whale-ship, Snowball was appointed _chef de caboose_, inwhich distinguished office he continued for several years; and onlyresigned it to accept of a similar situation on board a fine bark, commanded by _Captain Benjamin Brace_, engaged in the African trade. But not _that African trade_ carried on by such ships as the _Pandora_. No; the merchandise transported in Captain Brace's bark was not blackmen, but white ivory, yellow gold-dust, palm-oil, and ostrich-plumes;and it was said, that, after each "trip" to the African coast, themaster, as well as owner, of this richly laden bark, was accustomed tomake a trip to the Bank of England, and there deposit a considerable sumof money. 

After many years spent thus professionally, and with continued success, the _ci-devant_ whalesman, man-o'-war's-man, ex-captain of the_Catamaran_, and master of the African trader, retired from active life;and, anchored in a snug craft in the shape of a Hampstead Heath villa, is now enjoying his pipe, his glass of grog, and his _otium cumdignitate_. 

As for "Little William, " he in turn ceased to be known by thisdesignation. It was no longer appropriate when he became the captain ofa first-class clipper-ship in the East Indian trade, --standing upon hisown quarter-deck full six feet in his shoes, and finely proportioned atthat, --so well as to both face and figure, that he had no difficulty ingetting "spliced" to a wife that dearly loved him. 

She was a very beautiful woman, with a noble round eye, jet black wavinghair, and a deep brunette complexion. Many of his acquaintances wereunder the impression that she had Oriental blood in her veins, and thathe had brought her home from India on one of his return voyages fromthat country. Those more intimate with him could give a differentaccount, --one received from himself; and which told them that his wifewas a native of Africa, of Portuguese extraction, and that her name was_Lalee_. 

They had heard, moreover, that his first acquaintance with her hadcommenced on board a slave bark; and that their friendship aschildren, --afterwards ripening into love, --had been cemented while bothwere castaways upon a raft--Ocean Waifs in the middle of the Atlantic. 

THE END.