The Ocean Waifs Part 37

All were now looking for a quick termination to the affair; but in this they were disappointed. After several random thrusts had been given on both sides, the combatants again became separated without either having received any serious injury. The wild rage which blinded both, rendering their blows uncertain,--combined with the weakness of their bodies from long starvation,--may account for their thus separating for the second time, without either having received a mortal wound.

Equally innocuous proved the third encounter,--though differing in character from either of those that preceded it. As they came together, each grasped the right arm of his antagonist,--that which wielded the weapon,--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 of skill, but of strength. Nor was it at all dangerous, as long as the "grip" held good; since neither could use his knife. Either could have let go with his left hand at any moment; but by so doing he would release the _armed_ hand of his antagonist, and thus place himself in imminent peril.

Both were conscious of the danger; and, instead of separating, they continued to preserve the reciprocal "clutch" that had been established between them.

For some minutes they struggled in this strange fashion,--the intention of each being to throw the other upon the raft. That done, he who should be uppermost would obtain a decided advantage.

They twisted, and turned, and wriggled their bodies about; but both still managed to keep upon their feet.

The contest was not carried on in any particular spot, but all over the raft; up against the mast, around the empty casks, among the osseous relics of humanity,--the strewed bones rattling against their feet as they trod over them. The spectators made way as they came nearer, nimbly leaping from side to side; while the stage upon which this fearful drama was being enacted,--despite the ballast of its water-logged beams, and the buoyancy of its empty casks,--was kept in a continual 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 was inferior to that of his island antagonist; and had it been a mere contest of toughness, the former would have been defeated.

In craft, however, Le Gros was the Irishman's superior: and at this crisis stratagem came to his aid.

In turning about, the Frenchman had got his head close to the sleeve of O'Gorman's jacket,--that one which encircled his right wrist, and touched the hand holding the dangerous knife. Suddenly craning his neck to its fullest stretch, he seized the sleeve between his teeth, and held it with all the strength of his powerful jaws. Quick as thought, his left hand glided towards his own right; his knife was transferred to it; and the next moment gleamed beneath, threatening to penetrate the bosom of his antagonist.

O'Gorman's fate appeared to be sealed. With both arms pinioned, what chance had he to avoid the blow? The spectators, silent and breathless, looked for it as a certain thing. There was scarce time for them to utter an exclamation, before they were again subjected to surprise at seeing the Irishman escape from his perilous position.

Fortunate it was for him, that the cloth of his pea-jacket was not of the best quality. It had never been, even when new; and now, after long-continued and ill-usage, it _was_ almost rotten. For this reason, by a desperate wrench, he was enabled to release his arm from the dental grip which his antagonist had taken upon it,--leaving only a rag between the Frenchman's teeth.

The circ.u.mstances had suddenly changed! the advantage being now on the side of the Irishman. Not only was his right arm free again; but with the other he still retained his hold upon that of his antagonist. Le Gros could only use his weapon with the left arm; which placed him at a disadvantage.

The shouts that had gone up to hail the Frenchman's success--so late appearing certain--had become suddenly hushed; and once more the contest proceeded in silence.

It lasted but a few seconds longer; and then was it terminated in a manner unexpected by all.

Beyond doubt, O'Gorman would have been the victor, had it ended as every one was antic.i.p.ating it would,--in the death of one or other of the combatants. As it chanced, however, neither succ.u.mbed in that sanguinary strife. Both were preserved for a fate equally fearful: one, indeed, for a death ten times more terrible.

As I have said, the circ.u.mstances 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 own dexter arm with a vigour that promised soon to settle the affair; while the 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 pa.s.ses neither appeared to give or receive a wound. This innocuous sparring, however, was of short continuance and ended by the Irishman making a dexterous stroke, by which his blade was planted in the hand of his antagonist,--transfixing the very fingers which were grasping the knife!

The weapon fell from his relaxed clutch; and pa.s.sing through the interstices of the timber, sank to the bottom of the sea! A scream of despair escaped from the lips of the Frenchman, as he saw the blade of his antagonist about to be thrust into his body!

The thrust was threatened, but not made. Before it could be given, a hand interfered to prevent it. One of the spectators had seized the uplifted arm of the Irishman,--at the same time vociferating, in a stentorian 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, while giving utterance to his strange speech, kept one of his arms extended towards the ocean,--as if pointing to something he had descried above the 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 upon the spectators of the tragedy thus intruded upon, but upon its actors.

Even rancour became appeased by the sweet sound; and that of the Irishman, as with most of his countrymen, being born "as the flint bears fire," subsided on the instant.

He permitted his upraised arm to be held in restraint; it became relaxed, as did also his grasp on the wrist of his antagonist; while the latter, finding himself free, was allowed to retire from the contest.

O'Gorman, among the rest, had faced round; and stood looking in the direction where somebody had seen something that promised salvation of all.

"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 nautical ignoramus as to believe himself within sigh of land.

"A sail?--a ship?"

That was more likely: though, at the first glance, neither tail nor ship appeared upon the horizon, "What is it?" was the interrogatory reiterated by a dozen voices.

"A light! Don't you see it?" asked the lynx-eyed individual, whose interference in the combat had caused this sudden departure from the programme. "Look!" he continued; "just where the sun's gone down yonder. It's only a speck; but I can see it plain enough. It must be the light from a ship's binnacle!"

"_Carrajo_!" exclaimed a Spaniard; "it's only a spark the sun's left behind him. It's the _ignis fatuus_ you've seen, _amigo_!"

"Bah!" added another; "supposing it is a binnacle-lamp, as you say, what would be the use, except to tantalise us. If it be in the binnacle, in course the ship as carries it must be stern towards us. What chance would 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 no lamp in ze binnacle!"

"I see it too!" cried another.

"And I!" added a third.

"_Io tambien_!" (I also) echoed a fourth, whose tongue proclaimed him of Spanish nativity.

"_Ich sehe_!" drawled out a native of the German Confederacy; and then followed a volley of voices,--each saying something to confirm the belief that a light was really gleaming over the ocean.

This was a fact that n.o.body--not even the first objectors--any longer doubted.

It is true that the light seen appeared only a mere sparkle, feebly glimmering 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 at that time have been seen,--on the western horizon, still slightly reddened by the rays of the declining sun.

The men who speculated upon its appearance,--rude as they were in a moral sense,--were not so intellectually stupid as to mistake for a star that speck of yellowish hue, struggling to reveal itself against the almost kindred colour of the occidental sky.

"It isn't a star,--that's certain," confidently declared one of their number; "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 a ship's light at all, it's the glare o' the galley-fire,--where the cook's makin' coffee for all hands."

The superb picture of comfort thus called forth was too much for the temper of the starving men, to whom the idea was addressed; and a wild cry 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, had been long looked upon as things belonging to another world,--pleasures of 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 suddenly electrified by the wildest imaginings; and the contest so lately carried on,--as well as the combatants engaged in it,--was instantaneously forgotten; while the thoughts, and eager glances, of every individual on the raft were now directed towards that all-absorbing speck,--still gleaming but obscurely against the reddish background of the sun-stained horizon.