The Tiger Hunter Part 27

In all these signs Costal recognised the precursors of a storm.

The canoe had now pa.s.sed far out of sight of the barges, and was circling around, to get upon the other side of the schooner--still followed by five of the shining monsters of the deep.

Both Costal and the Captain believed themselves too far distant from the schooner to be seen by any one aboard when all at once a brilliant light enveloped the Spanish vessel, revealing her whole outlines from stem to stern. Those in the canoe had just time to perceive that it was the blaze of a cannon, when the report followed, and the hissing of a ball was heard. Almost on the instant the little craft received a terrible shock; and, in the midst of a cloud of spray thrown around it, the two rowers were seen tumbling over the side and sinking below the surface of the water. Two of the sharks disappeared at the same moment!

Costal, seated in the stern, at once perceived that the canoe no longer obeyed the rudder; and Lantejas, who was more amidships, saw to his horror that the vessel was sinking at the forward part, where she had been struck by the ball.

"_Por los infiernos_! an unlucky shot!" cried Costal.

"What will be the result?" anxiously demanded Lantejas.

"Why, a very simple thing: the bullet has crushed in the bow of the craft, and she will go down head foremost, I suppose."

"_Por Dios_! we are lost then!" cried Don Cornelio in a voice of terror.

"Not so sure of that yet," calmly returned Costal, at the same time rising and stepping forward in the canoe. "Keep your place!" whispered he to Lantejas, "and don't lose sight of me."

Notwithstanding the a.s.suring air with which the Indian spoke, the third rower, under the excitement of a terrible alarm, at this moment rushed up and caught him around the knees--as if clinging to him for help.

"Ho!" cried Costal, endeavouring to disengage himself, "hands off there, friend! Off, I say--here it is every one for himself!" And as he said this he pushed the man backward.

The latter, staggering partly under the impulsion he had received, and partly under the influence of his fright, tumbled back into the water.

At the same instant a third shark disappeared from the side of the canoe, while a cry of despair appeared to rise up from the bottom of the sea!

"It was his own fault," said the impa.s.sable Zapoteque, "his example should be a warning to others!"

At this frightful innuendo the ex-student of theology, more dead than alive, commenced invoking G.o.d and the saints with a fervour such as he had never felt in all his life.

"_Carrambo_! Captain," cried the imperturbable pagan, "put more confidence in your own courage than your saints. Can you swim?"

"Only a few strokes," feebly replied Lantejas.

"Good! that will be enough. There is only one way to hinder the canoe from going head downwards. Look out, then, and keep close by my side!"

Saying this, Costal waited until the canoe rose upon the top of a wave; and then, throwing all his strength into the effort, he kicked the craft, overturning it keel upwards.

Both men were for the moment under water; and Lantejas, on coming to the surface, felt himself violently grasped by the garments. He fancied it was one of the sharks that had seized hold of him; but the voice of Costal close to his ear once more rea.s.sured him.

"Do not fear: I am with you," said the Indian, dragging him through the water towards the capsized canoe, which was now floating wrong side up.

The efforts of the Indian, joined to those which Lantejas mechanically made for himself, enabled the latter to get astride the keel of the canoe; where Costal, after swimming a few strokes through the water, mounted also.

"Another minute," said the Indian, "and the old tub would have gone to the bottom. Now she may keep afloat till the whale-boats get up--that is, if the storm don't come down before then."

Lantejas cast a despairing glance towards the distant ocean, which, lashed by the wind, had already commenced under its mantle of foam. The sight drew from him a fresh invocation to the saints, with an improvised but earnest prayer for his own safety.

"_Carrambo_!" cried the pagan Costal, "keep a firm seat, and don't trust too much to your G.o.ds. If you let yourself be washed off, you'll find they won't do much for you. Stay! you've nothing to hold on by! let me make a catch for you."

Saying this, Costal bent towards his companion; and with the blade of his knife commenced opening a hole in the keel of the canoe. In the worm-eaten wood this might be easily effected; and, working with all the _sang-froid_ of a wood-carver, in a few seconds Costal succeeded in making an aperture large enough to admit the hand. Through this Lantejas thrust his fingers; and, clutching firmly underneath, was now in a condition to maintain his seat against the waves that were threatening every moment to roll over the spot.

Costal, having thus secured his companion, and provided for his own safety in a similar fashion, now commenced peering through the darkness in hopes of seeing the barges.

In this he was disappointed. Though the lightning now flashed at shorter intervals, its gleams revealed only the dark and scowling water, the isle sleeping in sullen gloom, and farther off the frowning ma.s.s of the fortress-crowned cliff.

Notwithstanding that the castaways now shouted at the highest pitch of their voices, there was no response from the whale-boats. Their cries pealed along the seething surface of the waters, and died without even an echo.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

FEARFUL FELLOW-SWIMMERS.

The shipwrecked sailor, floating upon his frail raft, or some spar of his shattered vessel, could not be more at the mercy of wave and wind, than were the two men astride of the capsized canoe. Their situation was indeed desperate. The stroke of a strong sea would be sufficient to swamp their frail embarkation; and, should the tempest continue to increase in fury, then destruction appeared inevitable.

Despite the imminent danger, Lantejas still indulged a hope that the intrepidity of the Zapoteque might rescue him from the present danger, as it had from many others. Sustained by this vague belief, he kept his eyes fixed upon the countenance of Costal, while endeavouring to read in its expression the condition of the Indian's spirit.

Up to that time the imperturbable coolness exhibited by the _ex-tigrero_ had favoured the hopes of his companion. As the time pa.s.sed, however, and nothing was seen of the whale-boats, even the features of Costal began to wear an expression of anxiety. There is a difference, however, between anxiety and despair. The spirit of the Indian had only succ.u.mbed to the former of these two phases.

"Well, Costal, what think you?" demanded Lantejas, with a view of breaking the silence, which appeared to him of ill omen.

"_Por Dios_!" replied the Indian, "I'm astonished that the barges have not moved up on hearing that shot. It's not like the Marshal to hang back so. He don't often need two such signals to advance--"

A blast of wind sweeping past at the moment hindered Lantejas from hearing the last words of his companion's speech. He saw, however, that the latter had relapsed into his ominous silence, and that the cloud of inquietude was growing darker over his countenance. It was almost an expression of fear that now betrayed itself upon the bronzed visage of the Indian.

The Captain well knew that the least display of such a sentiment on the part of Costal, was evidence that the danger was extreme. Not that he needed any farther proof of this, than what he saw around him; but, so long as the Zapoteque showed no signs of fear, he had entertained a hope that the latter might still find some resource for their safety.

He almost believed himself saved, when the voice of the Indian once more fell upon his ear, in a tone that seemed to betray an indifference to their present situation.

"Well, Senor Don Cornelio," said Costal, "what would you give now to be lying in a hammock, with a canopy of jaguars and rattlesnakes over you?

Eh?"

Costal smiled as he recalled the scene of the inundation. His gaiety was a good sign. Almost immediately after, however, he muttered to himself, in a tone of inquietude--

"Can it be possible that the barges have gone back?"

In situations of a frightful kind the smallest suspicion soon a.s.sumes the form of a reality; and the Captain did not doubt but that the barges had returned to the sh.o.r.e. Not that there was the slightest reason for this belief. On the contrary, it was more natural to suppose that they were still in the place where they had been left--awaiting the return of the canoe, and the news it might bring them. This was all the more likely: since they in the barges could not fail to have heard the shot from the schooner, and would be awaiting an explanation of it.

The probability of all this--especially of the boats being still in the same place--did not fail to strike Costal, who for some seconds appeared to be reflecting profoundly.

Meanwhile the waves had increased, and had all the appearance of soon becoming much larger. Already the frail embarkation was tossed about like an egg-sh.e.l.l.

"Listen to me, Senor Don Cornelio Lantejas!" said Costal.

"Ah!" woefully murmured the Captain, on hearing his patronymic p.r.o.nounced; for ever since his proscription as Cornelio Lantejas, he had held his own name in horror. Never did it sound to him with a more lugubrious accent than now.

"Listen!" said Costal, repeating himself with emphasis; "I know you are a man for whom death has no terrors. Well, then! I think it would not be right of me to conceal from you--a fact--"

"What fact?"