“Why, only that we’re in an ugly mess. There’s no reason to think they have picked up a stock o’ provisions, since we parted wi’ them. I don’t know how they’ve stuck it out,—that is, supposin’ it be them. They may have got shark-meat like ourselves; or they have lived upon—”
The sailor suddenly suspended his speech, glancing towards William, as if what he was about to say had better not reach the ears of the lad.
Snowball, however, understood him,—as was testified by a significant shake of the head.
“As for water,” continued the sailor, “they had some left; but not enough to have lasted them to this time. They had rum,—oceans o’ that,—but it ’ud only make things worse. True, they mout a caught some o’ the rain in their shirts and tarpaulins, as we did; but they weren’t the sort to be careful o’ it wi’ a rum-cask standin’ by; an’ I dar say, by this time, though they may have some’at to eat,—as you knows, Snowy,—they’ll be dyin’ for a drop o’ drink. In that case—”
“In dat case, dey rob us ob de whole stock we hab save. Den we perish fo’ sartin.”
“Sure o’ that, at least,” continued the sailor. “But they wouldn’t stop by robbin’ us o’ our precious water. They’d take everything; an’ most likely our lives into the bargain. Let us hope it ain’t them we’ve heard.”
“Wha’ you say, Master Brace? ’Pose ’um be de capten an’ dem odders in de gig? Wha’ you tink?”
“It mout,” answered the sailor. “I warn’t thinkin’ o’ them. It mout be; an’ if so, we han’t so much to fear as from t’ other ’uns. They arn’t so hard up, I should say; or even if they be, there arn’t so many o’ ’em to bully us. There were only five or six o’ them. I should be good for any three o’ that lot myself; an’ I reckon you an’ Will’m here could stan’ a tussle wi’ the others. Ah! I wish it war them. But it arn’t likely: they had a good boat an’ a compass in it; and if they’ve made any use o’ their oars, they ought to be far from here long afore this. You’ve got the best ears, nigger: keep them well set, an’ listen. You know the voices o’ the ole Pan’s crew. See if you can make ’em out.”
During the above dialogue, which had been carried on in an undertone,—a whisper, in fact,—the mysterious voices had not been again distinguished. When first heard, they appeared to proceed from two or more men engaged in conversation; and, as we have said, were only very indistinct,—either from the speakers being at a distance or talking in a low tone of voice.
The Catamarans now listened, expecting to hear some words pronounced in a louder tone; and yet not wishing to hear them. Rather would they that those voices should never again sound in their ears.