Unlike other fishes, its neck was more slender than its head and shoulders,--imparting to it a sort of human shape. But it was in its head that the hideousness of the creature was more especially conspicuous; the skull being prolonged on each side outwards to the distance of several inches, and set upon its neck after the fashion of a mallet upon its shaft! At the end of these lateral protuberances appeared the eyes, with gleaming golden irides, glancing horridly to the right and left.
The mouth was not less abnormal in shape and position. Instead of being in the hideous head already described, it was in the breast,--where at intervals it could be seen yawning wide open, and displaying a quadruple row of sharp serrated teeth, that threatened instant destruction to any substance, however hard, that might chance to come between them.
Little William knew not what sort of fish it was; for though common enough in some parts of the ocean, he had not had the good or ill fortune to see one before. As his companion had put the question, however,--and also to satisfy his own curiosity,--he appealed to Ben.
The latter, raising his eyes above the top of his chest, and looking in the direction pointed out by the lad, at once recognised the animal which appeared to have attached itself as an escort to the _Catamaran_.
"Hammer-head!" said Ben; "a shark he be; an" the ugliest o" his ugly tribe."
Saying this, the sailor once more ducked his head under the lid of the chest, 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 from that time the sailor was within six feet of the "hammer-head"s" open mouth,--in imminent danger of being craunched between those quadruple tiers of terrible teeth, and taken into the monster"s capacious maw.
By the phrase "hammer-head," so laconically p.r.o.nounced by the captain of the _Catamaran_, little William recognised in the fish a creature which, although never seen by him before, he had read of in books, both of travel and natural history. It was the "hammer-head" shark, or _balance-fish_, so-called from the peculiar formation of its head,--the _zygaena_ of the naturalists, and one of the most voracious of that devouring tribe to which genetically it belongs.
The individual in question was, as is already stated, about a cable"s length from the raft, right ahead; and through the translucent water its form could be distinctly traced in all its hideous outlines. Swimming in the same direction, and at a like rate of speed, it preserved a regular distance from the raft; and appeared like some guide or _avant courier_ conducting the _Catamaran_ across the Atlantic!
William and Lalee watched the fish for a considerable time; but as no change took place either in its movements or the position it held in relation to the raft, their curiosity at length became satisfied, and their eyes were turned in a different direction.
But the gaze of the boy-sailor soon became fixed; and upon an object which caused him to give utterance to two distinct exclamations,-- distinct in point of time, as different in signification. The first was an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, or rather a series of phrases expressing a jocular surprise,--the second a cry of serious alarm.
"Ho!" cried he, on turning round and glancing towards the stern of the _Catamaran_, "s...o...b..ll 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 a series 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 towards his companion, with arms outstretched, to protect her.
The action came too late. The steering-oar, held in the hands of the sleeper, hung suspended high above the water. The _Catamaran_, left without control, luffed suddenly round beam-end to the wind; the boom obeyed the impulse of the breeze; and Lilly Lalee, uplifted upon its end, was brushed off from the craft, and jerked far out upon the blue bosom of the ocean!
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
"OVERBOARD!"
The cry came from little William, as the Portuguese girl, lifted on the end of the boom, was pitched far out into the sea.
The utterance was merely mechanical; and as it escaped from his lips, the sailor-lad rushed towards the edge of the raft, and placed himself in an att.i.tude to plunge into the water,--with the design of swimming to the rescue of Lalee.
Just then the boom, suddenly recoiling, came back with a rapid sweep; and, striking him across the shins, sent him sprawling over the shoulders of Ben Brace, and right into the sea-chest, in front of which the sailor was still kneeling.
Ben had heard that significant cry of alarm, and almost simultaneously the "plash" made by the little Portuguese as her body dropped down upon the water. He had slewed himself round, and was making a hurried effort to get to his feet, when the boy, flung with violence upon his stooping back, once more brought him to his knees.
As William was chucked right over him into the chest the sailor soon recovered from the shock, and rising erect, cried out in a half-confused manner,--"Overboard! Who? Where? _Not_ you, Will"m! What is"t, boy?"
"O Ben! Ben!" answered William, as he lay kicking among the contents of the kit, "Lilly Lalee, she"s knocked overboard by the boom! Save her!
save her!"
The sailor needed neither the information nor the appeal thus addressed to him. His interrogations had been altogether mechanical, for the plunge 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 had gone down; but, just as he got to his feet again, she had turned to the surface; and, uttering half-stifled screams, commenced buffeting the water with her tiny hands, in an instinctive endeavour to keep herself afloat.
In a crisis of this character, the brave English sailor was obstructed by no ambiguity as to how he should act. A single bound carried him across the _Catamaran_,--another landed him upon the top of one of the casks, and a third launched him six feet outward into the sea. Had he been apprised of the accident only a score of seconds sooner, less than that number of strokes would have sufficed him to reach the spot where the child had first fallen into the water. Unfortunately in the collision with little William, that had brought him back to his knees, some time had been expended. During this interval--short as it was--the craft, though under an uncontrolled sail, was still making considerable way; and when the rescuer at length succeeded in leaping from the cask, the struggling form had fallen into the wake of the _Catamaran_ to the distance of nearly a cable"s length.
If the girl could only keep afloat for a few minutes, there need be no great danger. The sailor knew that he could swim, sustaining a heavier weight than was the little Lalee. But it was evident the child could not swim a stroke, and was every moment in danger of sinking for the second time.
Her rescuer perceived this danger as he started to her aid; and therefore pressed rapidly towards her, cleaving the water with all the strength that lay in his muscular arm and limbs.
Meanwhile little William had also regained his feet; and, having extricated himself from the chest in which he had been temporarily encoffined, ran towards the after part of the raft. Quickly mounting upon the water-cask at the stern, he stood astride the steering-oar,--an anxious and trembling spectator,--his eyes alternately fixed on the strong swimmer and the struggling child.
s...o...b..ll was still dormant, buried in a slumber profound and unconscious,--such as only a "darkey" can enjoy. The cry "Overboard!"
uttered by little William had made no impression upon the tympanum of his wide-spread ears,--nor the exclamations that succeeded in the harsher voice of the sailor. Equally unheard by him had been the scream coming across the water, though along with it he might have heard the utterance of his own name!
As none of these sounds had been sufficient to arouse him from his torpor, he was likely to remain for some time longer unconscious of what was occurring. The sailor swam in silence,--the cries of the child, now more distant, were growing feebler and feebler; while little William-- s...o...b..ll"s only companion upon the raft--was too much absorbed in the scene 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,--s...o...b..ll was sleeping as soundly and sweetly as if he had been stretched along the bench of his caboose, and rocked to rest by the undulations of a good ship going at easy sail.
Up to this time, William had not thought of awakening him; for, to say the truth, the boy had not yet quite recovered his presence of mind.
The shock of consternation caused by the accident was still vibrating through his brain; and his actions, in running aft, and springing up on the cask, were half mechanical. There, enchained by the spectacle, and waiting with intense anxiety for its _denouement_, he had not a thought to give either to s...o...b..ll or his slumberings.
The silence continued only for a short period of time, though it may have seemed long enough both to actors and spectator in that thrilling drama. It was terminated by a cry of joyous import from the lips of little William,--in short, a loud _hurrah_, evoked by his seeing the swimmer come _en rapport_ with the child, raise her sinking form above the surface, and holding it in one hand, strike out with the other in the direction of the rail.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
SAVED!
"Brave Ben!--brave fellow! he has saved her! Hurrah!"
Whether it was the violent gestures that accompanied this ebullition of feeling that caused the water-cask to lurch from under his feet,--or whether it arose from his nervous system suddenly becoming relaxed after such a spell of intense anxiety,--certain it is that the sailor-lad, as he repeated the final "Hurrah!" lost his balance upon the task, and, staggering over, he fell with all his weight upon the prostrate body of the slumbering sea-cook.
The latter, in his sleep more sensible to touch than hearing, was at length aroused.
"Gorramity!" cried he, suddenly starting to his knees, and endeavouring to disembarra.s.s himself of the weight of little William, still scrambling upon his back. "Gorramity! What all dis _fracas_ "bout?
Someb"dy shout "Hurrah?"--Ha! you, lilly w.i.l.l.y? you shout dat jess now?
I tink I hear ye in ma "leep. What for you hurrah? Golly! am dar a ship in sight? I hope dar am--Wha"s Ma.s.s" Brace?--wha"s de lilly gal?
Augh?"
This string of interrogations was put in such rapid succession as to give the lad no opportunity of replying to them. But, indeed, a reply was not needed, as may be deduced from the final e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of the questioner.
s...o...b..ll, having swept the surface of the _Catamaran_ with a quick, searching glance, and missing from it not only its captain, but--what was of greater moment--his own _protege_, became equally the victim of surprise and consternation.
His eye was at once turned towards the water; and, like all men accustomed to the sea, was intuitively directed sternward. The missing individuals could not be elsewhere than in the wake of the craft going under sail.