"I reckon, I'se goin' to hab some trubble wid dat foot," he observed, gravely. "Ole Mister Stingaree gib me a dig dar. He warn't much bigger dan a plate, but der horns are powerful poison."
His announcement sent a chill of fear to the hearts of his companions, for they all well-knew the dangerous character of the flat, horn-tailed fish which lurks on the bottom in Florida waters. The Captain did not lose a second in whipping out his sheath knife and cutting open the puncture which he washed out thoroughly with sea water. He then made Chris sit on the edge of the rock and hang his foot over in the water.
The plucky little negro bore the operation with unflinching cheerfulness. "I sho' wish you'd open up one ob dem conch for me, Massa Charley," he observed. "If dis ting's goin' to make me sick, I wants to be dat much ahead."
Charley quickly broke open one of the conchs and gave him the meat,—a big lump of tough flesh, almost sufficient for an entire meal. He also opened several others for the Captain, Walter, and himself, upon which they made a hearty and strengthening, if somewhat tasteless, meal. Chris ate but little of the tough meat, he soon pushed it away from him with a weary little sigh.
"I doan want no moah," he said, quietly. "I'ze gettin' berry sick. Reckon ole Mister Stingaree dun got dis nigger for sho'."
His little ebony face soon took on a dull-ashen hue and he began to vomit violently; passing from these spells into a heavy stupor, the mysterious subtle poison from the stingaree was getting in its work. His grieving companions watched him in helpless suspense, there was nothing they could do to relieve his sufferings.
"We can't let him die like this," Charley cried, as the little sufferer twitched in spasms of pain. "I am going to try to reach shore and find help. He has taken bigger risks for us many a time."
Neither Walter or the Captain tried to stop him. They would have gladly offered to make the attempt in his place but he was the strongest and best swimmer of the three.
He removed his jacket and shoes and with a last good-bye, plunged off of the rock and headed for the distant shore. He had not gone more than twenty yards when he stopped with a cry of joy.