_ CHAPTER FOUR. HOW I WAS NOT DROWNED, AND HOW WE CHASED THAT SCHOONER
I don't remember much about that dive, except that the water made a great deal of noise in my ears, for the next thing that occurred seemed to be that I was lying on my back, with the back of my neck aching, while the doctor was pumping my arms up and down in a remarkably curious manner.
"What's the matter?" I said quickly; and then again in a sharp angry voice, "Be quiet, will you? Don't!"
"Are you better, young 'un?" said the captain, who seemed to be swollen and clumsy looking.
"Better? Here!" I cried as a flash of recollection came back, "where's the shark?"
"Floating alongside," said the doctor, wiping the great drops of perspiration from his forehead.
I pulled myself up and looked over the side, where the great fish was floating quite dead, with one of the sailors making fast a line round the thin part of the tail.
"Why, I know," I cried; "he dragged me down."
It was all plain enough now. The captain had fitted a lanyard to the shaft of the lance, so that it should not be lost, and I had got this twisted round one of my wrists in such a way that I was literally snatched out of the boat when it tightened; and I felt a strange kind of shudder run through me as the doctor went on to say softly:
"I had begun to give you up, Joe, my boy."
"Only the shark give it up as a bad job, my lad. That stroke of yours finished him, and he come up just in time for us to get you into the boat and pump the wind into you again--leastwise the doctor did."
"The best way to restore respiration, captain."
"When you've tried my plan first, my lad," replied the captain. "What is it drowns folks, eh? Why, water. Too much water, eh? Well, my plan is to hold up head down'ards and feet in the air till all the salt-water has runned out."
"The surest way to kill a half-drowned person, captain," said the doctor authoritatively.
"Mebbe it is, mebbe it isn't," said the captain surlily. "All I know is that I've brought lots back to life that way, and rolling 'em on barrels."
I shuddered and shivered, and the men laughed at my drenched aspect, a breach of good manners that the captain immediately resented.
"There, make fast that shark to the ring-bolt, and lay hold of your oars again. Pull away, there's a hurricane coming afore long."
As he spoke he looked long at a dull yellow haze that seemed to be creeping towards the sun.
"Had we not better let the fish go?" said the doctor anxiously.
"No, I want the oil," said the captain. "We've had trouble enough to get him, and I don't mean to throw him away. Now, my lads, pull."
The men tugged steadily at their oars, but the dead fish hung behind like a log, and our progress was very slow. Every now and then it gave a slight quiver, but that soon ceased, and it hung quite passively from the cord.
I was leaning over the stem, feeling rather dizzy and headachy when, all at once, the captain shouted to me to "cut shark adrift; we're making too little way. That schooner's too far-off for my liking." I drew my knife, and after hauling the fish as closely as I could to the side I divided the thin line, and as I did so the boat seemed to dart away from its burden.
It was none too soon, for the yellow haze seemed to be increasing rapidly, and the wind, which at one minute was oppressively calm, came the next in ominous hot puffs.
"Why, the schooner's sailing away from us," cried the captain suddenly. "Hang me if I don't believe that scoundrel of a Malay has got to the helm, and is taking her right away out of spite."
"Don't begin prophesying evil like that, captain," cried the doctor sharply. "Here, man, I can pull; let's take an oar apiece and help."
"I wasn't croaking," growled the captain; "but whether or no, that's good advice. No, no, youngster, you're not strong enough to pull."
"I can row," I said quickly; and the captain making no farther objection, we three pulled for the next half-hour, giving the men a good rest, when they took their turn, and we could see that while the haze seemed nearer the schooner was quite as far-off as ever. There was a curious coppery look, too, about the sun that made everything now look weird and unnatural, even to the doctor's face, which in addition looked serious to a degree I had never seen before.
"There'll be somebody pitched overboard--once I get back on deck, and no boat ready to pick him up. Here, what does he mean?"
He stood up in the boat waving his hat to those on board the little vessel; but no heed was paid, and the captain ground his teeth with rage.
"I'll let him have something for this," growled the captain. "There, pull away, men. What are you stopping for?"
The men tugged at their oars once more, after glancing uneasily at each other and then at the sky.
"If I don't give him--"
"Let's get on board first, captain," said the doctor, firmly.
"Ay, so we will," he growled. "The brown-skinned scoundrel!"
"That's land, isn't it, captain?" I said, pointing to a low line on our left.
"Ay, worse luck," he said.
"Worse luck, captain? Why, we could get ashore if we did not overtake the schooner."
"Get ashore! Who wants to get ashore, boy? That's where my schooner will be. He'll run her on the reefs, as sure as I'm longing for two-foot of rope's-end and a brown back afore me."
"A crown apiece for you, my lads, as soon as you get us aboard," cried the doctor, who had been looking uneasily at the men.
His words acted like magic, and the oars bent, while the water rattled and pattered under our bows.
"That's the sort o' fire to get up steam, doctor," said the captain; "but we shall never overtake my vessel, unless something happens. I'd no business to leave her, and bring away my men."
"I'm sorry, captain," I said deprecatingly. "It seems as if it were my fault."
"Not it," he said kindly. "It was my fault, lad--mine."
All this while the mist was steadily moving down upon us, and the captain was watching it with gloomy looks when his eyes were not fixed upon the schooner, which kept on gliding away. The doctor's face, too, wore a very serious look, which impressed me more perhaps than the threatenings of the storm. For, though I knew how terrible the hurricanes were at times, my experience had always been of them ashore, and I was profoundly ignorant of what a typhoon might be at sea.
"There," cried the captain at last, after a weary chase, "it's of no use, my lads, easy it is. I shall make for the land and try to get inside one of the reefs, doctor, before the storm bursts."
"The schooner is not sailing away now," I said eagerly.
"Not sailing, boy? Why she's slipping away from us like--No, no: you're right, lad, she's--Pull, my lads, pull; let's get aboard. That Malay scoundrel has run her on the reef." _