The Ocean Waifs: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea

No doubt this would have been the very course of conduct for the flying-fish to have pursued; and no doubt it was on the eve of adopting it, when, all at once, the long, shadowy wings and outstretched neck of the frigate-bird were seen outlined above.

The sight was sufficient to keep the fish under water a while longer, but only a very little while. Above were that ugly red pouch and craning neck; below, those hideous jaws, ready to open and engulf it.

There seemed no chance of escape. It was only a question of choice as to the mode of death: whether it would prefer to become food for a fish, or be devoured by a bird.

As, in itself, it partook a little of the nature of, or, at all events, of the habits of both, there was not much to choose between them; but whether it did not desire to deliver itself over to the enemy most like to itself, or whether it was that the latter was now so near as to be almost certain of seizing it, it declared its preference for the bird by making a sudden spring which carried it clear out of the water, and into the air.

The sea-hawk hovering above in eager expectation lost no time in making the attempt to secure it; but whether he was too sure of his prize, or from some other unexplained reason, certain it is that he gave a practical illustration of the old and well-known adage about the cup and the lip, by failing to clutch the prey.

He was seen darting towards it with open beak, – his talons cruelly extended for its capture; but, notwithstanding all his activity, the white object that shot glittering past him, and dropped into the sea far beyond, proclaimed to the Catamarans that the Exocetus had escaped.

Chapter Fifty.

Snowball making a Somersault

And now all eyes were turned towards the sea-hawk, and became fixed upon him with glances that expressed surprise; for, instead of again soaring upward, and renewing his pursuit either of the creature that he had so clumsily permitted to escape him, or some other of its kind, the bird was seen to stay down upon the surface of the sea, – his wings spread to their full extent, and flapping the water with such violence as to raise the spray in a thick cloud over and around him!

He was heard, too, giving utterance to loud and repeated screams, – not in the tone of a conqueror; but as if he was in danger of being vanquished, or had already become the victim of some ocean tyrant stronger than himself!

For some seconds this inexplicable movement, – a struggle it seemed, – continued; not in one place, but over a space of many square yards of surface, – which appeared to be also agitated by the exertions of some creature underneath; the bird all the while repeating its cries, and beating the water into froth, like a huge pelican at play!

The crew of the Catamaran, utterly unable to account for this strange conduct on the part of the old cock, stood upon the deck of their craft, looking on with feelings of intense astonishment.

Even Snowball, who thought himself au fait to every incident of ocean-life, was surprised and puzzled equally with the rest.

“What be the matter wi’ the creetur, Snowy?” inquired Ben, thinking Snowball could explain its odd behaviour. “The frigate ’pears to ha’ got on its beam-end; shiver my timbers if ’t ain’t goin’ to founder!”

“Shibber ma timber, too,” rejoined Snowball, rudely pirating the sailor’s favourite shibboleth; “shibber ’um, if dis nigga know what am de matter. Golly! someting got de ole hawk by de legs, – dat seem sartin. Maybe ’um be shark, maybe ’um be long-nose – de – ”

Snowball was going to say “sword-fish,” had he been permitted to finish his speech. But he was not; for while in the act of its delivery, with the whites of his eyes rolling in conjectural wonder, something from below struck the plank, upon which he was standing, and with such a shock that the piece of timber was started from its fastenings, and impelled suddenly upwards, – not only knocking the ex-sea-cook out of his perpendicular position, but pitching him, as from a catapult, clear across the Catamaran, and into the sea on the opposite side!

This was not all. The plank from which Snowball had been projected instantly fell back into its place, – in consequence of its being one of the heaviest pieces of timber in the raft, – but instead of remaining there, it was again seen to shoot upward, then fall back upon the water, as if dragged down by a powerful but invisible hand, – the hand of some sea-god or demon, – perhaps of Neptune himself!

Not only the plank, but the whole raft moved under this inexplicable impulsion, – which had communicated to it a rocking motion, not from side to side, but upwards and downwards! So quick and violent was this mysterious oscillation, that it was with difficulty the three individuals who still occupied the decks of the craft could keep either their balance or their feet.

Along with the motion of the raft there was a corresponding commotion in the water, – accompanied by a loud splashing noise that seemed to proceed from under the timbers, on which, like so many acrobats, they were endeavouring to balance themselves; and in a few seconds after they had felt the great shock, the sea all around exhibited a surface of high waves crested with foam!

Snowball, who had risen to the surface after the somersault that had plunged him deep down into the sea, perceiving that the raft still continued to heave upward and downward, made no attempt to get on board; but swimming alongside, sputtered forth his terrified ejaculations. Even the brave man-o’-war’s-man, who had faced death in a thousand shapes, was, at that moment, the victim of fear.

How could it be otherwise? He could think of nothing in nature capable of causing that mysterious commotion and who, without trembling, could withstand the assaults of the supernatural?

“Shiver my timbers!” cried Ben, himself shivering as he spoke the words, “what in old Nick’s name has got under us? Be it a whale that’s bumpin’ its back against the rail? Or – ”

Before he could pronounce the second interrogatory, a loud crash sounded in the ears of all, – as if the plank heaving so mysteriously had been suddenly torn in twain!

This sound, whatever had caused it, seemed to proclaim the climax of the commotion: for immediately after the Catamaran began to compose herself, the waves caused by her continued rocking gradually grew less, until at length, once more “righted,” she lay in her customary position upon the tranquil surface of the sea.

Chapter Fifty One.

A Thrust through and through

As soon as the Catamaran had fairly recovered her equilibrium, Snowball condescended to climb aboard. The ludicrous appearance of the negro, as he stood dripping upon the deck, might have excited laughter; but neither Ben Brace, nor his acolyte, nor the little Lalee, were in a mood for mirth. On the contrary, the curious incident that had just occurred was yet unexplained; and the awe with which it had inspired them still continued to hold all three in a sort of speechless control. Snowball himself was the first to break silence.

“Good Gorramity!” he exclaimed, his teeth chattering like castanets, as the words passed between them. “Wha’s all de rumpus ’bout? Wha you tink, Massa Ben? Wha make dat dratted fuss under de raff? De water be plash bout so I’ve see nuffin, ’cepting a big black heap o’ someting. Golly! I b’lieve it war de jumbe, – de debbil!”

The terrified looks of the speaker, while giving utterance to these words, – especially when pronouncing the dreaded name of the jumbe– told that he was serious in what he said; and that he actually believed the devil to have been the agent who had been causing the mysterious commotion!

The English sailor, though not entirely free from a certain tinge of superstition, did not share Snowball’s belief. Though unable, by any experience he had ever gone through, to account for the odd incident, still he could not ascribe it to supernatural agency. The blow which started the plank on which Snowball had been standing had communicated a shock to the whole structure. It might have been given by some huge fish, or other monster of the deep; and though unaccountable and unexpected, might, nevertheless, be quite natural. It was the shaking which the Catamaran kept up afterwards, – almost to the spilling of the whole crew into the water, – that most perplexed the old man-o’-war’s-man. He could not imagine why a fish, or any other creature, having butted its head once against the “keel” of the craft, would not instantly desist from such an idle encounter, and make off as fast as fins could carry it.

Ben’s first impression was, that a whale had by chance risen under the raft; as he had known them to do against the sides of ships. But then the persistence of the creature, whatever it was, in its odd attack, argued something more than accident. On the other hand, if the attack was designed, and had been made by a whale, of whatever species, the sailor knew that it would not have left off after merely shaking the raft. A whale, with a single flirt of his tail, would have sent the whole structure flying into the air, sunk it down into the deep, or scattered it in fifty fragments over the surface of the water.

One of these things a whale would undoubtedly have done. So believed Ben Brace; and therefore the creature that had come so near capsizing them could not be a whale. What was it, then? A shark? No. It could not be a shark. Though there are two or three species of these monsters, quite as large as good-sized whales, the sailor never knew of their assaulting anything after that fashion.

As they stood speculating on the cause of their curious adventure, a shout from Snowball announced that the ex-cook had at length discovered the explanation.

Snowball’s first thought, after having partially recovered from his fright, was to examine the plank from which, like an acrobat from his spring-board, he had made that involuntary somersault.

There, just by the spot on which he had been standing, appeared an object that explained everything: a sharp, bony, proboscis-like implement, standing up a full foot’s length out of the timber, slightly obliqued from the perpendicular, and as firmly imbedded in the wood as if it had been driven in by the blows of a blacksmith’s hammer!

That it had penetrated the plank from underneath could be easily seen, by the ragged edge, and split pieces around the orifice where it came out.

But the negro did not stay to draw deductions of this nature. On catching sight of the object, – which he knew had not been there before, – his terror at once came to an end; and a long cachinnation, intended for a peal of laughter, announced that “Snowball was himself again.”

“Golly!” he exclaimed. “Look dar, Massa Brace. Look at de ting dat hab gub us sich a frightnin. Whuch! Who’d a beliebed dat de long-nose had got so much ’trength in im ugly body? Whuch!”

“A sword-fish!” cried Ben. The rostrum of one of these singular creatures was the sharp bone protruding above the plank. “You’re right, Snowy, it be a sword-fish, and nothing else.”

“Only de snout o’ one,” jocularly rejoined the negro. “De karkiss ob de anymal an’t dar any more. Dat was de black body I seed under de raff; but he an’t dar now. He hab broke off him long perbossus; and no doubt dat hab killed him. He gone dead, and to de bottom, boaf at de same time.”

“Yes,” assented the sailor. “It must have broke off while he was struggling to get clear, I heerd the crash o’t, like the partin’ o’ a spar; and just after, the raft stopped shakin’, an’ began to settle down again. Lor ha mercy on us! what a thrust he have made! That plank be five inches thick, at the very least, an’ you see he’s stuck his snout through it more’n a foot! Lor ’a mercy on us! What wonderful queery creeturs the ocean do contain!”

And with this philosophic reflection, from the lips of the man-o’-war’s-man, ended the adventure.

Chapter Fifty Two.

An awkward Grip

To the two oldest of the Catamaran’s crew the curious circumstances of the sword-fish thrusting his rostrum through the raft, and snapping it asunder, needed no explanation. Both knew that it was not with an intention of attacking the Catamaran that the “stab” had been given; nor was the act a voluntary one, in any way.

Not likely, indeed; since it had proved fatal to the swordsman himself. No one doubted his having gone dead to the bottom of the sea: for the bony “blade” was found to have been broken close to the “hilt,” and it was not possible the owner could exist without this important weapon. Even supposing that the fearful “fracture” had not killed him outright, the loss of his long rapier, the only tool by which he could obtain his living, would be sure to shorten his lease of life, and the final moment could not be long delayed.

But neither sailor nor ex-sea-cook had any doubt of the fish having committed suicide, no more than that the act was involuntary.

The explanation given by Ben Brace to his protégé was simple, as it was also rational. The sword-fish had been charging into a shoal of albacores. Partly blinded by the velocity of its impetuous rush, and partly by its instinct of extreme voracity, – perhaps amounting to a passion, it had seen nothing of the raft until its long weapon struck the plank, piercing the latter through and through. Unable to withdraw its rostrum from the fibrous wood, the fish had instantly inaugurated that series of struggles, and continued them, until the crash came, caused, no doubt, by the upheaved raft lurching suddenly down in a direction transverse to its snout.

Only a part of this explanatory information was extended to little William: for only a part was required. From some previous talk that had occurred on the same subject, he was already acquainted with a few of the facts relating to this foolish fencing on the part of the sword-fish.

Nor was there at that moment any explanation either offered or asked; for, as soon as the Catamaran had settled into her proper position, and Snowball had got aboard, the eyes of her whole crew, – those of the Coromantee among the rest, – became once more directed to that which had occupied their attention previous to receiving the shock, – the strange behaviour of the frigate-bird.