Two travellers meeting in the midst of a lone wilderness, even though
strangers to each other, would not be likely to pass without speaking.
If old acquaintances, then would they be certain to make the longest
pause possible, and procrastinate their parting till the last moment
allowed by the circumstances. If these circumstances would permit of
their reaching their respective destinations by the same route, how
sorry would each be to separate, and how happy to enter into a mutual
alliance of co-operation and companionship!
Just like two such travellers, or two parties of travellers, meeting in
the midst of the desert,--a wilderness of land,--so met, in the midst of
the ocean,--the wilderness of water,--the two rafts whose history we
have hitherto chronicled. Their crews were not strangers to each other,
but old acquaintances. If not all friends in the past, the
circumstances that now surrounded them were of a kind to make them
friends for the future. Under the awe inspired by a common danger, the
lion will lie down with the lamb, and the fierce jaguar consorts with
the timid capivara no longer trembling at the perilous proximity.
But there was no particular antipathy between the crews of the two rafts
thus singularly becoming united. It is true that formerly there had
been some hostility displayed by the negro towards Little William, and
but little friendship between the former and Ben Brace. These, however,
were things of the past; and during the last days of their companionship
on board the _Pandora_ the sentiments of all three had undergone a
change. An identity of interests had produced a certain three-cornered
sympathy,--obliterating all past spite, and establishing, if not
positive friendship, at least a sort of triangular forgiveness. Of
course this affection was of the isosceles kind,--Ben and Little William
being the _sides_, and Snowball the _base_. It is scarce necessary to
say, that, meeting again under the circumstances described, all past
spite, had there been any, would have been forgiven and forgotten.
Fortunately this had been already done. Between Ben and Snowball, and
Snowball and Little William, the hatchet had been long ago buried; and
they now met, not as enemies, but as old acquaintances,--almost as
friends: nay, we might say, _altogether_ as friends. If not so before,
the common danger had made them so now, and amicably did they greet one
another.
After such an encounter, it is superfluous to say that no thought of
again separating entered into the minds of any of the party. The crews
of both rafts knew that their destinations were identical.
Each was an _ocean waif_, seeking to escape from the wilderness of
waters,--longing for deliverance from a common danger. In company they
might have a better chance of obtaining it. Why should they separate to
search for it?
The question did not occur to either,--in thought or in word. From the
moment of their meeting, instinct told them that their destinies were
the same,--that their action in future should be united.
After the two rafts had collided together, and those involuntary but
joyful salutations were exchanged between their crews, the respective
skippers became occupied with the more serious business of uniting the
frail embarkations into one, and rendering them for the future
inseparable.
"Snowball!" inquired the sailor, "have you got any spare rope?"
"Plenty o' dat 'ere," responded the ex-cook of the _Pandora_.
"Yar am a coil o' strong sinnet. Dat do?"
"That's the stuff," responded Ben. "Heave it this way, ye son of a
sea-cook! Heave!"
"Now," continued he, laying hold of the coil of sennit, and tossing back
one end over an empty water-cask. "Make fast there, Snowey! I dare say
we can lay alongside safe enough till daylight! After that we'll splice
together in a better sort o' way."
The ex-cook, obedient to the injunctions of the seaman, seized hold of
the end of rope thrown to him, and made it fast to one of the spars
which comprised his singular craft; while at the same time Ben busied
himself in tying the other end to the piece of handspike erected upon
his own.
Soon each completed his task; and after some time spent in a mutual
detail of the adventures that had befallen them since the hour of
separation on the deck of the ill-fated Pandora, it was agreed that all
should go to rest for the remainder of the night, and with the earliest
light of day take measures to perpetuate the union of the two wandering
waifs thus unexpectedly brought into companionship.