But, there came no response; and so, Jackson’s surmise must have been correct. The man had evidently fallen in his sleep, through the slipping of the rope which had secured him to the rigging; and he must either have been drowned at once or fallen a victim to the maw of one of the sharks, whose movements we could hear in the water still below us.
The accident, however, wakened us all up thoroughly, and we waited anxiously for daylight.
When this came, however, a terrible scene was enacted before our eyes.
No sooner had the rising sun lit up the ocean and enabled us all to see each other distinctly, than I noticed Davis, who was close to Jackson, staring at him in a most peculiar manner.
I never saw in anyone before such a fixed steady glare!
The man seemed out of his senses or bewildered by something, for his eyes moved about strangely, although with a savage gleam in them, while his hair appeared to bristle up.
“Well, what is the matter?” said Jackson at length, after enduring his gaze for a moment or two, waiting for the other to speak. “Do you want water? Shall I get you some?”
This apparently broke the spell which was upon the wretched man, whose constitution had been much enfeebled by his drinking habits—making him thus less able to contend against the exposure and privations | we had been subjected to than the rest of us.
The minute Jackson spoke, he uttered a queer sort of half-groan, half-shriek; and having previously, I suppose, untied the rope with which he had been lashed to the rigging, he made a dash at the second mate with both his hands, trying to grip his throat and strangle him.
“You devil!” he cried, foaming at the mouth with passion, “you’ve taken my place and brought me to this.”