Ran Away to Sea Part 25

"Look yonder!" cried the man, pointing along the water; "look yonder; yon's what cows 'em--the sharks!"

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

The stretch of water that lay between the raft and the burning vessel glittered under the yellow light like a sea of molten gold. On its calm surface the blazing barque was mirrored, as though another was on fire below; but the perfect image was broken by occasional rippling, as if some living creatures were stirring through the water. The very intensity of the light, dazzling our eyes, prevented us from scanning the surface with any degree of minuteness. It was like looking against the sun as the bright orb rises or sets over the sea. The strong light glancing along the water produced a sheen and a sparkle that half-blinded us; and, although we had observed an occasional eddy or rippling motion upon the surface, we had not thought of the cause until that moment.

Now, however, that our attention was called to this moving of the waters we had no difficulty in making out the cause. It was the sharks that were darting about--now rushing impatiently from point to point; now lying in wait, silent and watchful, like cats, ready to spring upon their prey. Here and there we could see their huge dorsal fins standing like gaff-topsails above the surface, now cleaving the water like huge blades of steel, anon dipping below to appear again at some point nearer to their expected prey.

From the number of these fins that we observed above water, we came to the conclusion that there must be hundreds of these voracious creatures around the blazing barque. In fact there was a perfect "school" of them, like porpoises or minnows--for the longer we gazed the greater number of fins and rippling eddies were detected, until at times it appeared as if the whole surface was thickly covered with these preying fish!

Their numbers, too, seemed to be continually increasing. On looking out to sea others might be noticed swimming up, as if they had come from a distance. No doubt that red conflagration was a signal that summoned them from afar. Like enough the sight was not new to them--it was not the first time they had witnessed the burning of a ship and had been present at the spectacle; before now they had a.s.sisted at the denouement, and were ever after ready to welcome such a catastrophe, and hasten towards it from afar.

I really could not help thinking that these monsters of the deep possessed some such intelligence, as they swam around the fated barque-- casting towards it their ogreish expecting looks.

They came around the raft as well--indeed, they appeared to be thicker there than elsewhere--as though we who stood upon it were to be the prey that would first fall into their ravenous jaws. So thick were they, that two or three could be seen side by side, swimming together as though they were yoked; and at each moment they grew bolder and came nearer to the timbers. Some already swam so close to the raft, that they were within reach of a blow from the handspikes, but not any one attempted to touch them. On the contrary, the word was pa.s.sed round for no one to strike or a.s.sail them in any way. Just then they were doing good work; they were to be let alone!

Little as the sailors would have liked to see such shoals of these dreaded creatures at any other time--for between sailor and shark there is a constant antipathy--just then the sight was welcome to them. They knew that they themselves were out of reach of the hideous monsters; and at a glance they had comprehended the advantage they were deriving from their presence. They saw that they were the guardians of the raft--and that, but for them, the blacks would long since have taken to the water and followed it. The fear of the sharks alone restrained them; and no wonder it did, for the whole surface of the sea between the blazing vessel and the raft now seemed alive with these horrid creatures!

It was no longer wondered at that the negroes had not precipitated themselves into the water and swam after us. It would have been a bold leap for any of them to have taken--a leap, as it were, into the very jaws of death.

And, yet, death was behind them--death quick and sure, and, perhaps, of all others the most painful--death by fire. In setting the poor wretches free, I had been under the humane impression that I had given them the easier alternative of being drowned. I now saw that I was mistaken. No such alternative was in their power. There was no longer a choice between burning and drowning. It now lay between burning and being devoured by the sharks!

CHAPTER FIFTY NINE.

An awful alternative it was, and for a long while the ill-starred victims seemed to linger in their choice. Hard choice between two horrid forms of death! Little did it matter which, and the knowledge of this rendered them indifferent whether to spring forth or stand still.

Death was before them as well as behind--turn which way they might, death stared them in the face--soon and certain--and on every side they saw its threatening arm--before, behind, above, and around them. The utter hopelessness of escape had numbed their energies--they were paralysed by despair.

But even in the hour of the most hopeless despair there arrives a crisis when men will still struggle for life--it is the last struggle--the final conflict as it were, with death itself. No one yields up life without this effort, though it be ever so idle. The drowning man does not voluntarily permit himself to sink below the surface. He still strives to keep afloat, though he may not have the slightest hope of being rescued. The effort is partly involuntary--it is the body that still continues to battle for life, after the mind has resigned all hope--the last stand that existence makes against annihilation. It may be a purely mechanical effort--perhaps it is so--but who ever saw a strong man compelled to part suddenly with life, that did not make such a struggle? Even the condemned criminal upon the gallows continues to strive till the breath has parted from his body. Something like this last despairing effort aroused the energies of that hesitating crowd that cl.u.s.tered upon the burning barque. The crisis at length came.

The flames were fast rushing forward, and spreading over all the deck.

Their red jets, spurting out beyond the selvage of smoke, began to touch the bodies of their victims, and pain them with the fierce sting of fire. It produced no augmentation in their cries of agony. These had long since reached the climax, and the voices of those who uttered them had been already raised to their highest pitch. But the close proximity of the flames, and the absolute certainty of being now destroyed by them, caused a general movement throughout the living ma.s.s; and, as if actuated by an universal impulse, or guided by one common instinct, all were seen making a sudden descent upon the water.

Those who had been hitherto standing along the side were not the first to leap. It was they who were farther back, and of course nearer to the flames, who first took to the water; and these, rushing over the bulwarks--and even stepping upon the shoulders of those who were cl.u.s.tered there--without further hesitation flung themselves headlong into the sea. But the impulse seemed to communicate itself to the others, and almost instantaneously--as if some one had proclaimed a way to safety and was leading them on to it--the whole crowd followed the foremost and went plunging into the water. In a few seconds not an individual could be seen--of all that dark swarm that had so lately crowded the fore-part of the vessel, not one was now visible on board.

Simultaneously had they deserted the burning wreck!

A wild scene was now presented in the water. The whole surface was thick with human forms, plunging and struggling together. Some were evidently unable to swim, and, with their bodies half erect, were tossing their arms about in vain efforts to keep above the surface.

Here and there several clung together, until two or three--or in some instances larger groups--dragged one another below, and sank to the bottom together. Strong swimmers were observed separating from the rest, and forging out into the open water. Of these the heads only could be seen, and rapidly closing upon them the dark vertical fin that told the presence of the pursuing shark.

Then could be heard the wild, despairing cry--then could be seen the quick rush of the monster upon his prey--the water lashed by his tail-- the foam thrown up, already tinged with the blood of the victim--and, after that, the surface returning to its level--the eddies and red frothing bubbles alone marking for a few moments the scene of each tragical crisis.

Oh! it was an awful spectacle to look upon--this wholesale ravening of sharks--and even those who were upon the raft, with all their inhumanity and heartless cruelty of disposition could not behold it without emotion.

It was scarce an emotion of pity, however. Perhaps of all, Brace and I were the only ones who felt pity. Some were indifferent, but the majority of them--although a little awed by the tragical scene--were actually glad at beholding it! It may be wrong of me to say they were glad--what I mean is, that they felt a secret satisfaction at what was going on--springing not from pure wanton cruelty of heart, but rather from an instinct of self-preservation. Hitherto, these men had been in great dread of the blacks overtaking the raft--they were not yet free from the fear--and, of course, with this in their minds, they regarded with satisfaction the wholesale ravage that the sharks were committing.

By this their own danger was every moment diminished--hence it is that they were gratified at the hideous spectacle.

But numerous as were the sharks, there were not enough of them to make total destruction of that vast crowd of human beings. After the first general attack the ravenous brutes appeared to become scarcer and scarcer, until but one here and one there, could be seen rushing upon their prey. The greater number, having already secured a victim, were satisfied and perhaps had gone down to their haunts in the darker deep-- while hundreds of human heads were still observable above the surface of the water.

The flames, still flaring brilliantly, illumined the sea as if the day was shining upon it; and it could be observed that the faces of the survivors were all turned in the direction of the raft, towards which they were swimming with all their strength.

Once more the sailors became inspired with apprehension--once more they dreaded that their last hour was come, and that they themselves might soon be struggling among the sharks.

CHAPTER SIXTY.

There was much shouting among the white men and many wild exclamations, but no time was lost in idle talk--for every one was doing his best to propel the raft. The shouts were only an accompaniment to their actions. Nearly every one wielded some implement, which had been grappled in the hurry of the moment. Some were provided with oars, others had only handspikes, and still others a.s.sisted in paddling with pieces of board that had been obtained from old coops, or the bulwarks broken by the falling mast. Those who could find nothing better stretched themselves along the edge of the raft and beat the water with their hands, in order to aid in producing a forward motion.

But the great ma.s.ses of timber--not yet firmly lashed together--lay loose and loggish upon the water, and moved very slowly and irregularly under such ill-a.s.sorted propulsion: and, notwithstanding that the raft had obtained a hundred yards the start of the swimmers, its occupants began seriously to dread being overtaken.

They had reason to fear it. There could be no doubt that the pursuers were gaining upon us, and this soon became evident to all upon the raft.

Nay, more, they were gaining rapidly; and, at the rate at which they were swimming, five minutes could not pa.s.s before they would overtake us.

Those upon the raft were now quite conscious that such would be the event. Paddle and beat the water as they might they could not propel the heavy timbers beyond a certain rate of speed--not so fast as a man could swim. Notwithstanding their exertions, and the advantage of their long start, they saw they were going to be overtaken.

It could not be otherwise--there was nothing now to obstruct the pursuit--nothing to stay the pursuers. The sharks, having sated their appet.i.tes, had let most of the swimmers escape. Occasionally one was seen to go down with a shriek, but this was the exception--the rest swam freely on.

What was their motive in following us? was it vengeance, or a despairing hope of being saved? Perhaps both,--but no matter which, there were enough of them to overpower the white men by sheer strength; and, once they succeeded in reaching us, it was not likely they would fail to avenge themselves for the wrongs that had been put upon them.

Should they succeed in overtaking the raft they would easily climb upon it; a few might be kept back, but it would be impossible for thirty men to repulse hundreds; and the crowd would soon crawl over the edge, and, with their additional weight, sink the frail structure to the bottom of the sea.

Should they succeed in reaching the raft--there was no need of any supposition--they would be certain to overtake it--even at that moment there were some of them scarce ten yards off, and coming nearer at every fresh stroke of their arms. These, however, were the strongest swimmers, who were far ahead of the rest. The main body were still twenty yards further off; but it was plain that the slowest of them swam faster than the raft was moving.

Most of the sailors began to give way to despair. The wicked deeds of an ill-spent life were rising before them. To all appearance their last hour had come.

And mine, too--at least, so believed I at that moment.

It was hard to die thus--by such horrid means, and in such company.

Sound in health, the love of life was strong within me; and under this impulse I almost repented what I had done. It was I who had brought about this last terrible contingency, and my own life was now to be the forfeit. Yes; I had acted imprudently, rashly, and I will not deny that at that moment I came near repenting of what I had done.

It was not a time for reflection. The crisis had arrived. We must all yield up life. The sea would soon receive us within its ample embrace.

Masters and slaves, tyrants and their victims, must all perish together!

Such were the thoughts that were rushing through my brain, as I saw the black swimmers approach. I no longer felt sympathy or pity for them.

On the contrary, I viewed them as enemies--as dreaded monsters who were about to destroy and devour us--to engulph us all in one common destruction, and among the rest myself--their late benefactor. Really, at that moment, in the confusion of my thoughts, I was regarding these unfortunate creatures as though they were voluntary agents--as though they were actuated by gratuitous cruelty and revenge, and not victims of despair struggling for the preservation of their own lives.

My senses had become confused; my reasoning faculties had forsaken me; and, in common with those around me, I regarded the pursuers as enemies!

Under this impression--false though it may have been--I was the less disposed to sympathise with them, when I saw the first who came near the raft beaten back by the oars and handspikes of the sailors; for to this it had now come.

It was a cruel scene that followed. I took no part in it. Though ever so desirous that my life should be saved, I could never have gone to such extremes to preserve it. I was but a looker-on.

I saw the foremost swimmers struck upon the head, or pushed away by violent "jabbing" from the oars and handspikes. I saw some disappear below the surface, as if they had gone to the bottom under the blow, while others, not injured, swam off, and then circled round as if to get ahead of us.

Though the fierce, angry shouts, and the still fiercer actions of the white men intimidated the foremost swimmers, these demonstrations did not drive them away. They only kept out of reach of the oars and handspikes, but still followed on. Indeed, they no longer followed; for the raft was no longer in motion; the rowers had enough to do without propelling it further, and it had now come to a stand still!