It need scarce be said that the statement—whether true or fallacious,—acted as a stimulus to his comrades at the oar. The word “water” was music to their ears; and, on hearing it pronounced, one and all of them put forth their utmost strength.
The increased speed thus obtained for the larger craft war likely to bring about the crisis. She was now seen to gain upon the lesser more rapidly than ever; and, before another ten minutes had elapsed, she had forged so close to the stern timbers of the Catamaran that an active man might almost have leaped from one to the other.
The crew of the latter beheld the proximity with despair. They saw the black waves, with white curling crests, coming on behind. They saw the sky becoming overcast above their heads; but it appeared only to scowl upon them,—as if to make darker the dread doom that was now threatening so near.
“Shiver my timbers!” cried the sailor, alluding to that too tardy wind, “it will be too late to save us!”
“Too late!” echoed the voice of Le Gros from the big raft, his white teeth, as they shone through his black beard, imparting to him a ferocity of aspect that was hideous to behold. “Too late, you say, Monsieur Brace. For what, may I ask? Not too late for us to get a drink out of your water-cask. Ha! ha! ha!”
“You son of a sea-cook!” he continued, addressing himself to the negro; “why don’t you hold your oars? Sacré-Dieu! what’s the use, you ugly nigger? Don’t you see we’ll board you in six seconds more? Drop your oars, I say, and save time. If you don’t, we’ll skin you alive when we’ve got our flippers upon you.”
“Nebba, Massa Grow!” defiantly retorted Snowball? “you nebba ’kin dis nigga ’live. He go die ’fore you do dat. He got him knife yet. By golly! me kill more than one ob you ’fore gib in. So hab a care, Massa Grow! You lay hand on ole Snowy, you cotch de tarnel goss.”
To this threat of resistance the Frenchman did not vouchsafe reply: for the rafts were now so near to each other that his attention became engrossed by something that left no time for further speech.
He saw that the Catamaran was within reach of his boat-hook, and, leaning forwards with the long shaft extended, he struck its grappling-iron into her stern timber.
For a second or two there was a struggle, which would have ended in the two rafts being brought in contact with one another but for an adroit stroke given by the oar of the English sailor. This not only detached the boat-hook from its grip, but also from the grasp of Le Gros, and sent the implement shivering through the air.