“But we must have Mr Roberts, sir,” cried old Dick, excitedly. “Give the word, sir—starn all—and we’ll overtake her arterwards.”
“Starn all, my lads, and do your best.”
“Ahoy!” came once more, faintly, out of the darkness.
“We’re going away from him,” cried the lieutenant. “Pull round, my lads,” he cried, seizing the tiller. “Now then, steady. Be smart there with a boat-hook. Roberts, ahoy!”
“Help, help,” came again, from somewhere astern now, for the poor fellow was growing weak.
For as he had plunged down, with the thought of the great reptiles uppermost in his mind, Bob Roberts had felt a chill of horror run through him that seemed for the moment to rob him of all power; but as he rose to the surface again, and felt that he could breathe, he struck out manfully in the direction of the firing; but in his confusion, after swimming for a minute, he found from the noise behind that he was making for the stockade, and he turned hastily to swim after the boat.
It was no light task, dressed as he was. He had a sword in his belt, and on the other side a revolver, and his first thought was to rid himself of them; but a strange feeling of dislike to parting with his weapons made him put off the act of throwing them away until he should feel that he was sinking; so, guided by the flashes of the pieces that were being fired, he swam lustily in the direction in which he felt the boat must be.
He called for help several times, but his voice was not heard by those to whom he appealed; and as he felt himself being left behind, a cold chill of horror once more seized upon him, making his limbs seem heavy as lead, and paralysing his efforts in a way that was terribly suggestive of death.
Thoughts of the great slimy monsters being at hand to seize upon him, sent his blood rushing to his face in a way that made him giddy, and for a few moments he felt half mad with fear; but calling upon his manhood, he mastered the nervous trepidation.
“’Taint English—’taint game,” he cried aloud, with the water at his lip; and checking the frantic desire to beat the surface with his hands in the natural last effort of a drowning creature, he swam steadily on, hailing the boat at intervals, but more and more feebly, as his despair increased; for he felt that he was only a lad, and that his life was a mere nothing compared to a successful capture of the prahu.