“Now then, time’s up!” and followed by Dowlas, Burke, Flaypole, and Sandon, ran to the back of the raft. As Dowlas seized the hatchet convulsively, Miss Herbey could not suppress a cry of terror. André started to his feet.
“What are you going to do to my father?” he asked in accents choked with emotion.
“My boy,” said M. Letourneur, “the lot has fallen upon me, and I must die!”
“Never!” shrieked André, throwing his arms about his father. “They shall kill me first. It was I who threw Hobart’s body into the sea, and it is I who ought to die!”
But the words of the unhappy youth had no other effect than to increase the fury of the men who were so staunchly bent upon their bloody purpose.
“Come, come, no more fuss,” said Dowlas, as he tore the young man away from his father’s embrace.
André fell upon his back, in which position two of the sailors held him down so tightly that he could not move, whilst Burke and Sandon carried off their victim to the front.
All this had taken place much more rapidly than I have been able to describe it. I was transfixed with horror, and much as I wished to throw myself between M. Letourneur and his executioners, I seemed to be rooted to the spot where I was standing.
Meantime the sailors had been taking off some of M. Letourneur’s clothes, and his neck and shoulders were already bare.
“Stop a moment!” he said in a tone in which was the ring of indomitable courage. “Stop! I don’t want to deprive you of your ration; but I suppose you will not require to eat the whole of me today.”
The sailors, taken aback by his suggestion, stared at him with amazement.
“There are ten of you,” he went on. “My two arms will give you each a meal; cut them off for today, and tomorrow you shall have the rest of me.”
“Agreed!” cried Dowlas; and as M. Letourneur held out his bare arms, quick as lightning the carpenter raised his hatchet.
Curtis and I could bear this scene no longer; whilst we were alive to prevent it, this butchery should not be permitted, and we rushed forwards simultaneously to snatch the victim from his murderers. A furious struggle ensued, and in the midst of the melee, I was seized by one of the sailors, and hurled violently into the sea.
Closing my lips, I tried to die of suffocation in the water; but in spite of myself, my mouth opened, and a few drops trickled down my throat.
Merciful Heaven! the water was fresh!
LVI
continued—A change came over me as if by miracle. No longer had I any wish to die, and already Curtis, who had heard my cries, was throwing me a rope. I seized it eagerly, and was hauled up on to the raft, “Fresh water!” were the first words I uttered.
“Fresh water?” cried Curtis, “why then, my friends, we are not far from land!”
It was not too late; the blow had not been struck, and so the victim had not yet fallen. Curtis and André (who had regained his liberty) had fought with the cannibals, and it was just as they were yielding to overpowering numbers that my voice had made itself heard.
The struggle came to an end. As soon as the words “Fresh water” had escaped my lips, I leaned over the side of the raft and swallowed the life-giving liquid in greedy draughts. Miss Herbey was the first to follow my example, but soon Curtis, Falsten, and all the rest were on their knees and drinking eagerly, The rough sailors seemed as if by a magic touch transformed back from ravenous beasts to human beings, and I saw several of them raise their hands to heaven in silent gratitude, André and his father were the last to drink.
“But where are we?” I asked at length.
“The land is there,” said Curtis pointing towards the west.
We all stared at the captain as though he were mocking us; no land was in sight, and the raft, just as ever, was the centre of a watery waste. Yet our senses had not deceived us the water we had been drinking was perfectly fresh.
“Yes,” repeated the captain, “land is certainly there, not more than twenty miles to leeward.”
“What land?” inquired the boatswain.
“South America,” answered Curtis, “and near the Amazon; no other river has a current strong enough to freshen the ocean twenty miles from shore!”
LVII
continued—Curtis, no doubt was right. The discharge from the mouth of the Amazon is enormously large, but we had probably drifted into the only spot in the Atlantic where we could find fresh water so far from land. Yet land, undoubtedly was there, and the breeze was carrying us onwards slowly but surely to our deliverance.
Miss Herbey’s voice was heard pouring out fervent praise to Heaven, and we were all glad to unite our thanksgivings with hers. Then the whole of us (with the exception of André and his father, who remained by themselves together at the stern) clustered in a group, and kept our expectant gaze upon the horizon.
We had not long to wait. Before an hour had passed Curtis, leaped in ecstasy and raised the joyous shout of “Land ahoy!”
My journal has come to a close.
I have only to relate, as briefly as possible, the circumstances that finally brought us to our destination.
A few hours after we first sighted land the raft was off Cape Magoari, on the Island of Marajo, and was observed by some fishermen who, with kindhearted alacrity picked us up, and tended us most carefully. They conveyed us to Para, where we became the objects of unbounded sympathy.
The raft was brought to land in lat. 0° 12′ N., so
