“I wish we had Ben with us,” said Halliday. “A stout, brave fellow such as he is would have been of great help, and with the assistance of the better disposed we might have kept the villains at bay. I wonder what can have become of him!”
“He and his companion have probably paddled towards the shore,” answered Boxall. “Self-preservation is the first thing a man thinks of; and though he might not, under other circumstances, have deserted us, he probably thought himself much better off on his light raft than he would be on this large one,—and was afraid, if he came near us, that others would attempt to gain a footing on it, and thus overload it.”
“No, no; I do not think that Ben would willingly have deserted us,” I observed. “I am very certain that he would have done his best to help us. He probably lost sight of our raft during the night, and could not find it again; or one of the boats might have returned, and taken him and his companion on board.”
“Little chance of that,” answered Boxall. “There is no excuse for their cowardly desertion of us, and they are not likely to have come back for the sake of rescuing any one.”
This style of conversation, more of which I need not repeat, served to pass away the time. While the calm continued, our condition did not change for the better, as we could not move, and no sail could approach to our assistance. The Spaniards around us were talking in even a more gloomy strain,—uttering curses, not loud but deep, on the heads of those who had basely deserted them; while the mutineers sat together at the end of the raft muttering to each other, and, as we suspected, hatching mischief.
The day wore on, and the sun struck down on our unprotected heads with intense force; while the bright glare on the water affected our eyes, and compelled us to shield them with our hands,—for the sail, though hoisted, afforded us only a partial shade. The mutineers now began to cry out that they wanted more food and water.
“It is not time yet to serve it out,” answered the carpenter, who had assumed the command. “If we use it up now, we shall have none for to-morrow.”
“Better eat and drink while we are hungry and thirsty, and let to-morrow take care of itself,” exclaimed one of the mutineers.
The carpenter took no notice of the remark, and the mutineers remained quiet for some minutes, apparently not having made up their minds how to act.
“Depend upon it, these fellows will attack us before long,” observed Boxall; “we must be prepared. Tell the carpenter what I say.” The latter agreed with Boxall, and spoke to the few around him whom he could trust.