Quick as the movement of a cat he changed his position, facing round to father. Quicker still, he stooped and caught up something in his hand that by the glint of the moonlight explained their heavy load, and all the mystery which had been hanging over father’s actions. It was a rough, jagged piece of silver ore. He raised his powerful arm and struck father with it on the head. He struck him two or three times. I screamed. There was a dreadful struggle, and at the same second that I saw the gleam of father’s pistol I heard its report. The man raised up his huge figure for an instant, wavered, and fell back heavily with a cry like a wounded tiger. The boat, without capsizing, tilted beneath the shock, filled with water, and went down like a stone.
I absolutely do not know how I pushed out from my hiding-place, but with two or three swift strokes I was on the spot. For an instant there was most frightful silence. I can see the waves widening their circle yet. Then, right at my boat’s head, father came to the surface. I was made strong by the energy of desperation.
With a wild, straining reach I leaned over and caught him by the arm, and with the other hand I rowed backward towards the knoll. I would have capsized and gone down rather than have let go my grasp. I was within a skiff’s length of the little island when just at my side I saw the huge form of the miner come up. He struggled and made one mighty effort to catch hold of my boat. No more terrible can the faces of the damned look than this face that glared up at me from the water. It has haunted me waking and sleeping. God forgive me, I could do nothing else! I struck him with the flat side of my oar. Evidently weakened by loss of blood, exhausted and nearly gone, he fell back and sank almost instantly from sight.
I worked round to a place where there was only grass growing, and catching by it drew close to its border. I could never have lifted father up but that he was sensible and could help himself somewhat. I got him on the ground, and from the ground into my boat. Then he fainted.
His head was terribly wounded. I knew I had no time to waste. I was afraid he would die in the coming hours before I could reach assistance. I rubbed his hands. I loosened and took off some of his wet clothing. I folded my cloak over him carefully and seized the oars. Inspired by my strange burden with a strength superhuman, my boat shot swiftly almost as if it had been propelled by steam. But the east was already brightening again with Indian colors when I reached the wharf at last, at last!
They raised him softly and carried him up to the house. I paid no attention to their thousand questions. I do not know what I said—I said it was an accident.
In the weeks of his long fever and delirium, I watched over him day and night. He did not die. He came back to life. How many times I had wondered would he be kind, would he be gentle to me now? Ah, poor father! He was never harsh to any one after that.
When the people came and spoke to him, he would laugh a gentle, meaningless laugh, and sometimes, holding to me tight, he would point to a button or color on their dress and say,—
“Pretty, pretty!”
He grew well and strong again, but it had shattered his mind forever.