“Safe as yet, lads! Heave me a line, or he’ll have me after all.”
But ere the brute reappeared, the old man was safe on board.
“The Lord has stood by me,” panted he, as he shot the water from his ears. “We went down together: I knew the Indian trick, and being upper-most, had my thumbs in his eyes before he could turn: but he carried me down to the very mud. My breath was nigh gone, so I left go, and struck up: but my toes tingled as I rose again, I’ll warrant. There the beggar is, looking for me, I declare!”
And true enough, there was the huge brute swimming slowly round and round, in search of his lost victim. It was too dark to put an arrow into his eye; so they paddled on, while Ayacanora crouched silently at Amyas’s feet.
“Yeo!” asked he, in a low voice, “what shall we do with her?”
“Why ask me, sir?” said the old man, as he had a very good right to ask.
“Because, when one don’t know oneself, one had best inquire of one’s elders. Besides, you saved her life at the risk of your own, and have a right to a voice in the matter, if any one has, old friend.”
“Then, my dear young captain, if the Lord puts a precious soul under your care, don’t you refuse to bear the burden He lays on you.”
Amyas was silent awhile; while Ayacanora, who was evidently utterly exhausted by the night’s adventure, and probably by long wanderings, watchings, and weepings which had gone before it, sank with her head against his knee, fell fast asleep, and breathed as gently as a child.
At last he rose in the canoe, and called Cary alongside.