CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
FEARFUL FELLOW-SWIMMERS.
The shipwrecked sailor, floating upon his frail raft, or some spar ofhis shattered vessel, could not be more at the mercy of wave and wind,than were the two men astride of the capsized canoe. Their situationwas indeed desperate. The stroke of a strong sea would be sufficient toswamp their frail embarkation; and, should the tempest continue toincrease in fury, then destruction appeared inevitable.
Despite the imminent danger, Lantejas still indulged a hope that theintrepidity of the Zapoteque might rescue him from the present danger,as it had from many others. Sustained by this vague belief, he kept hiseyes fixed upon the countenance of Costal, while endeavouring to read inits 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 passed, however,and nothing was seen of the whale-boats, even the features of Costalbegan to wear an expression of anxiety. There is a difference, however,between anxiety and despair. The spirit of the Indian had onlysuccumbed to the former of these two phases.
"Well, Costal, what think you?" demanded Lantejas, with a view ofbreaking the silence, which appeared to him of ill omen.
"_Por Dios_!" replied the Indian, "I'm astonished that the barges havenot moved up on hearing that shot. It's not like the Marshal to hangback so. He don't often need two such signals to advance--"
A blast of wind sweeping past at the moment hindered Lantejas fromhearing the last words of his companion's speech. He saw, however, thatthe latter had relapsed into his ominous silence, and that the cloud ofinquietude was growing darker over his countenance. It was almost anexpression of fear that now betrayed itself upon the bronzed visage ofthe Indian.
The Captain well knew that the least display of such a sentiment on thepart of Costal, was evidence that the danger was extreme. Not that heneeded any farther proof of this, than what he saw around him; but, solong as the Zapoteque showed no signs of fear, he had entertained a hopethat the latter might still find some resource for their safety.
He almost believed himself saved, when the voice of the Indian once morefell upon his ear, in a tone that seemed to betray an indifference totheir present situation.
"Well, Senor Don Cornelio," said Costal, "what would you give now to belying in a hammock, with a canopy of jaguars and rattlesnakes over you?Eh?"
Costal smiled as he recalled the scene of the inundation. His gaietywas a good sign. Almost immediately after, however, he muttered tohimself, 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 assumesthe form of a reality; and the Captain did not doubt but that the bargeshad returned to the shore. Not that there was the slightest reason forthis belief. On the contrary, it was more natural to suppose that theywere still in the place where they had been left--awaiting the return ofthe canoe, and the news it might bring them. This was all the morelikely: since they in the barges could not fail to have heard the shotfrom the schooner, and would be awaiting an explanation of it.
The probability of all this--especially of the boats being still in thesame place--did not fail to strike Costal, who for some seconds appearedto be reflecting profoundly.
Meanwhile the waves had increased, and had all the appearance of soonbecoming much larger. Already the frail embarkation was tossed aboutlike an egg-shell.
"Listen to me, Senor Don Cornelio Lantejas!" said Costal.
"Ah!" woefully murmured the Captain, on hearing his patronymicpronounced; for ever since his proscription as Cornelio Lantejas, he hadheld his own name in horror. Never did it sound to him with a morelugubrious accent than now.
"Listen!" said Costal, repeating himself with emphasis; "I know you area man for whom death has no terrors. Well, then! I think it would notbe right of me to conceal from you--a fact--"
"What fact?"
"That if we stay here one hour longer, we must both go to the bottom.The waves are constantly growing bigger, as you see--"
"And what can we do?" demanded Lantejas, in a despairing tone.
"One of two things," replied Costal. "The barges are either waiting forus where we left them, or they are directing their course towards theisle. It is absurd to suppose they have returned to the town. When onereceives an order from a great general to attack any particular point,one does not return without making an attempt. The boats, therefore,must still be where we parted from them."
"Well, what would you do?"
"Why, since it is easy for me to swim to them--"
"Swim to them!"
"Certainly. Why not?"
"What! through the midst of those monsters who have just devoured ourcomrades under our very eyes?"
A flash of lightning at that instant lit up the countenance of Costal,which exhibited an expression of profound disdain.
"Have I not just told you," said he, "that I am perhaps the only man whocould pass among these sharks without the least danger? I have done ita hundred times out of mere bravado. To-night I shall do it to save ourlives."
The thought of being left alone caused the Captain a fresh alarm. Hehesitated a moment before making a reply. Costal, taking his silencefor consent, cried out--
"As soon as I have reached one of the barges I shall cause a rocket tobe sent up as a signal that I am aboard. Then you may expect us to comethis way; and you must shout at the top of your voice, in order that wemay find you."
Don Cornelio had not time to make answer. On finishing his speech the_ci-devant_ pearl-diver plunged head foremost into the water.
The Captain could trace a luminous line as he swam for some secondsunder the surface; and could also see that the fierce denizens of thedeep--as if they recognised in him a superior power--had suddenly glidedout of his way!
Don Cornelio saw the intrepid swimmer rise to the surface, at somedistance off, and then lost sight of him altogether behind the curlingcrests of the waves. He fancied, however, he could hear some indistinctwords of encouragement borne back by the wind. After that, the onlysounds that reached his ear were the hoarse moanings of the surf, andthe ominous plashing of the waves against the quivering timbers of hiscanoe.