All four soon came to the surface again; and the two who had best retained their senses,--the sailor and s...o...b..ll,--looked around for the gig. There was no gig in sight, nor boat of any kind! Only some floating fragments; among which could be distinguished a cask or two, with a scattering of loose boards, oars, handspikes, and articles of apparel. Among these were struggling two youthful forms,--recognisable as 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 the boy-sailor was swimming alongside the A.B. for the raft; while the Coromantee, with Lilly Lalee hoisted upon his left shoulder, was cleaving the water in the same direction.
Another minute and all four were aboard the embarkation they had so lately 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 had scarce created surprise; for the moment that the old whalesman felt the shock, he knew what had caused it, as well as if he had been a simple spectator.
The others, warned by him that danger might be expected in the pa.s.sage of the whales--though then unapprised of its exact nature--were fully aware of it now. It had come and pa.s.sed,--at least, after mounting once more upon the raft, they perceived that their lives were no longer in peril.
The occurrence needed no explanation. The detached timbers of the gig floating about on the water, and the shock they had experienced, told the tale with sufficient significance. They had been "fluked" by the bull-whale, whose fan-shaped tail-fins, striking the boat in an upward direction, had shattered it as easily as an eggsh.e.l.l, tossing the fragments, along with the contents, both animate and inanimate, several feet into the air.
Whether it were done out of spite or wanton playfulness, or for the gratification of a _whalish_ whim, the act had cost the huge leviathan no greater effort than might have been used in brushing off a fly; and after its accomplishment the old bull went bowling on after its frolicsome school, gliding through the water apparently with as much unconcern as if nothing particular had transpired!
It might have been nothing to him,--neither the capsize nor its consequences; but it was everything to those he had so unceremoniously upset.
It was not until they had fairly established themselves on the raft, and their tranquillity had become a little restored, that they could reflect upon the peril through which they had pa.s.sed, or realise the fulness of their misfortune.
They saw their stores scattered about over the waves,--their oars and implements drifting about; and, what was still worse, the great sea-chest of the sailor, which, in the hurry of the late transfer, had been packed full of shark-flesh, they could not see. Weighted as it was, it must have gone to the bottom, carrying its precious contents along with it.
The water-cask and the smaller one containing the Canary were still afloat, for both had been carefully bunged; but what mattered drink if there was no meat?--and not a morsel appeared to be left them.
For some minutes they remained idly gazing upon the wreck,--a spectacle of complete ruin. One might have supposed that their inaction proceeded from despair, which was holding them as if spellbound.
It was not this, however. They were not the sort to give way to despair. They only waited for an opportunity to act, which they could not do until the tremendous swell, caused by the pa.s.sage of the whales, should to some extent subside.
Just then the sea was rolling "mountains high," and the raft on which they 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, as they had spent the interval in reflection, they now proceeded to action.
They had formed no definite plans, further than to collect the scattered materials,--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 the timbers of the gig and entirely detached from the broken boat, was seen drifting at no great distance off, with the yard and sail still adhering to it. As these were the most important articles of which the _Catamaran_ had been stripped, there would be no great difficulty in restoring her to her original entirety.
Their first effort was to recover some of the oars. This was not accomplished without a considerable waste of time and a good deal of exertion. On the dismantled embarkation there was not a stick that could be used for rowing; and it was necessary to propel it with their outspread palms.
During the interval of necessary inaction, the floating fragments of the wreck had drifted to a considerable distance,--or rather had the raft, buoyed up by its empty casks, glided past them, and was now several cable-lengths to leeward.
They were compelled, therefore, to work up the wind and their progress was consequently slow,--so slow as to become vexatious.
s...o...b..ll would have leaped overboard, and recovered the oars by swimming: but the sailor would not listen to this proposal, pointing out to his sable companion the danger to be apprehended from the presence of the sharks. The negro made light of this, but his more prudent comrade restrained him; and they continued patiently to paddle the raft with their hands. At length a pair of oars were got hold of; and from that moment the work went briskly on.
The mast and sail were fished out of the sea and dragged aboard; the casks of water and wine were once more secured; and the stray implements were picked up one after another,--all except those of iron, including the axe, which had gone to the bottom of the Atlantic.
Their greatest loss had been the chest and its contents. This was irreparable; and in all probability the precursor of a still more serious 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. They were entirely without food. Of all their stores, collected and cured with so much care and ingenuity, not a morsel remained. Besides what the chest contained there had been some loose flitches of the dried fish lying about upon the raft. These had been carried into the boat, and must have been capsized into the sea. While collecting the other _debris_, they had looked for them in hopes that some stray pieces might still be picked up; not one had been found. If they floated at all, they must have been grabbed by the sharks themselves, or some other ravenous creatures of the deep.
Had any such waifs come in their way, the castaways just at that crisis might not have cared to eat them with the bitterness they must have derived from their briny immersion; still they knew that in due time they would get over any daintiness of this kind; and, indeed, before many hours had elapsed, all four of them began to feel keenly the cravings of a hunger not likely to refuse the coa.r.s.est or most unpalatable food. Since that hurried retreat from their moorings by the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_ they had not eaten anything like a regular meal.
The series of terrible incidents, so rapidly succeeding one another, along with the almost continuous exertions they had been compelled to make, had kept their minds from dwelling upon the condition of their appet.i.tes. They had only s.n.a.t.c.hed a morsel of food at intervals, and swallowed a mouthful of water.
Just at the time the last catastrophe occurred they had been intending to treat themselves to a more ceremonious meal, and were only waiting until the sail should be set, and the boat gliding along her course, to enter 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, not injured their appet.i.tes. These were keen enough when they first reoccupied their old places on the _Catamaran_; but as the day advanced, and they continued to exert themselves in collecting the fragments of the wreck, their hunger kept constantly increasing, until all four experienced that appet.i.te as keenly as they had ever done since the commencement of their prolonged and perilous "cruise."
In this half-famished condition it was not likely they should have any great relish for work; and as soon as they had secured the various waifs, against the danger of being carried away, they set themselves to consider what chance they had to provide themselves with a fresh stock of food.
Of course their thoughts were directed towards the deep, or rather its finny denizens. There was nothing else above, beneath, or around them that could have been coupled with the idea of food.
Their former success in fishing might have given them confidence,--and would have done so but for an unfortunate change that had taken place in their circ.u.mstances.
Their hooks were among the articles now missing. The harpoons which they had handled with such deadly effect upon the carca.s.s of the _cachalot_ had been there left,--sticking up out of the back of the dead leviathan composing that improvised spit erected for roasting the shark-steaks. In short, every article of iron,--even to their own knives, which had been thrown loosely into the boat,--was now at the bottom of the sea.
There was not a moiety of metal left out of which they could manufacture a fish-hook; and if there had been it would not have mattered much, since they could not discover a sc.r.a.p of meat sufficient to have baited it.
There seemed no chance whatever of fishing or obtaining fish in any fashion; 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 blighted their bright prospects; but the dead one, upon whose huge carca.s.s they had so lately stood. There they might still find food,--more shark-meat. If not, there was the whale-beef, or blubber: coa.r.s.e viands, it is true, but such as may sustain life. Of that there was enough to have replenished the larder of a whole ship"s crew,--of a squadron!
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 the whole distance they had made during the night might in time be recovered.
At the best, it would have been a difficult undertaking and doubtful of success, even if there had been no other obstacle than the elements standing in their way.
But there was,--one more dreaded than either the opposition of the wind or the danger of straying from their course.
In all likelihood their pursuers had returned to the spot which they had forsaken; and might at that very moment be mooring their craft to the huge pectoral fin that had carried the cable of the _Catamaran_.
In view of this probability, the idea of returning to the dead whale was scarce entertained, or only to be abandoned on the instant.
Cheerless were the thoughts of the Catamarans as they sat pondering upon that important question,--how they were to find food,--cheerless as the clouds of night that were now rapidly descending over the surface of the sea, and shrouding them in sombre gloom.
Never before had they felt so dispirited, and yet never had they been so near being relieved from their misery. It was the darkest hour of their despondency, and the nearest to their deliverance; as the darkest hour of the night is that which precedes the day.