It is true the Catamaran had done them good service. She had served to keep them afloat, and thus far saved their lives.
In calm weather they could have made themselves very comfortable on their improvised embarkation; and might have remained safe upon it, so long as their water and provisions lasted. But with such a slow-sailing craft the voyage might last longer than either; and then it could only result in certain death. They might not again have such good fortune in obtaining fish; and their stock of water once exhausted, it was too improbable to suppose they should ever be able to replenish it. There might not be another shower of rain for weeks; and even should it fall, it might be in such rough weather that they could not collect a single quart of it. Her slow-sailing was not the only objection to the Catamaran. Their experience in the gale of the preceding night had taught them, how little they could depend upon her in the event of a real storm. In very rough weather she would certainly be destroyed. Her timbers under the strain would come apart; or, even if they should stick together, and by the buoyancy of the empty casks continue to keep afloat, the sea would wash over them all the same and either drown or otherwise destroy them.
In such a long time as it must take before reaching land, they could not expect to have a continuance of fair weather.
With the gig,—a first-rate craft of its kind,—the case would be different.
Ben Brace well knew the boat, for he had often been one of its crew of rowers.
It was a fast boat,—even under oars,—and with a sail set to it, and a fair wind, they might calculate upon making eight or ten knots an hour. This would in no great time enable them to run down the “trades,” and bring them to some port of the South American coast,—perhaps to Guiana, or Brazil.
These speculations occupied them only a few seconds of time. In fact they had passed through their minds long before they arrived alongside the gig; for they were but the natural considerations suggested by the presence of the boat.
They were now in possession of a seaworthy craft. It seemed as if Providence had thrown it in their way; and they had no idea of abandoning it. On the contrary, it was the raft which was to be deserted.
If they hesitated about transferring themselves and their chattels from the Catamaran to the gig, it was but for a moment; and that brief space of time was only spent in considering how they might best accomplish the transfer.
The boat had first to be got into a fit state for their reception; and as soon as they had recovered from the shock caused by that hideous spectacle, the sailor and Snowball set to work to remove the body out of sight, as well as every trace of the sanguinary strife that must have taken place.