Chapter 29 - A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea by Mayne Reid
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 disembarrass 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 Willy? you shout dat jess now? I tink I hear ye in ma ’leep. What for you hurrah? Golly! am dar a ship in sight? I hope dar am—Wha’s Mass’ Brace?—wha’s de lilly gal? Augh?”
This string of interrogations was put in such rapid 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 ejaculation of the questioner.
Snowball, having swept the surface of the Catamaran with a quick, searching glance, and missing from it not only its captain, but—what was of greater moment—his own protégé, 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.
He was soon satisfied of the correctness of his conjecture. On the instant of his turning he beheld Ben Brace,—or rather, only the head of that individual,—just visible above the rippling surface of the sea. Close by was another head, of smaller size, with dark ringlets floating on both sides of it, and a tiny arm stretched out and apparently clinging to the shoulder of the seaman.
Snowball needed no one—not even little William—to interpret what he saw. At a glance he comprehended what had occurred during his sleep,—all except the cause. Little did he suspect that the disaster had its origin in his own negligence. But it did not need that thought to beget within him a feeling of anxiety,—or, rather, of intense alarm.
This feeling did not arise on the instant. Seeing the girl sustained by such a strong swimmer as he knew his old shipmate to be, he had but little fear for the result,—so little that he checked his first impulse, which was to leap overboard and swim to the assistance of both.
A moment’s reflection, however, satisfied him that there was still danger both for Lalee and her brave rescuer,—a danger which little William while giving utterance to that joyful “Hurrah!” had not taken into account. The lad had seen the girl picked up by the strong seaman; and, having an unlimited faith in the prowess of his own protector, he had 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 of speed that the swiftest swimmer, unembarrassed with the slightest weight, might in vain attempt to overtake her!
This sinister circumstance, in the excitement of the hour overlooked by the youthful sailor, was even, for a moment, unthought of by the more experienced mariner,—for Snowball, in addition to being a sea-cook, was also a competent seaman. Not for long, however, did the latter continue unconscious of the danger. Almost on the instant did he perceive it; and quickly squatting himself in front of the cask, he took hold of the steering-oar,—which he had so culpably neglected,—and, although still ignorant of the fact that his own negligence had caused the disaster, he bent all his energies towards remedying it.
Under the strong arm of the Coromantee, the Catamaran was fast coming round towards the wind,—and so shortening the distance between the swimmer and the craft,—when an object came under the eye of her steersman that caused him to drop the oar as if either his arm had become suddenly paralysed, or the piece of rounded ash grasped between his hands had become transformed into a bar of red-hot iron!
The former it could not be; since paralysed arms could not act, as did those of Snowball on that instant. On dropping the oar, his right hand was suddenly carried towards his left thigh, where a long knife hung suspended in its sheath. Upon the hilt of this his fingers rested for a moment, evidently not with the intention of drawing it, but apparently to assure himself that the knife was in its place.
In an instant the hand was withdrawn; but during the action the negro had hastily risen to his feet; and, having already abandoned the oar, he rushed towards the edge of the raft and leaped overboard into the water!