The ex-cook, in the lead of those who ascended to the summit of the
carcass, had some difficulty in finding his kitchen; but, after groping
some time over the glutinous epidermis of the animal, he at length laid
his claws upon the edge of the cavity.
The others joined him just as he had succeeded in inserting a bit of
fresh wick; and soon after a strong flame was established, and a fresh
spitful of shark-steaks hung frizzling over it.
Nothing more could be done than wait until the meat should be _done_.
There was no "basting" required,--only an occasional turning of the
steaks and a slight transposition of them on the harpoon spit,--so that
each should have due exposure to the flame.
These little culinary operations needed only occasional attention on the
part of the cook. Snowball, who preferred the sedentary _pose_, as soon
as he saw his "range" in full operation, squatted down beside it. His
companions remained standing.
Scarcely five minutes had passed, when the negro was seen to make a
start as if some one had given him a kick in the shin. Simultaneously
with that start the exclamation "Golly!" escaped from his lips.
"What be the matter, Snowy?" interrogated Brace.
"Hush! Hab ye no hear nuffin'?"
"No," answered the sailor,--little William chiming in with the negative.
"I hab den,--I hab hear someting."
"What?"
"Dat I doan know."
"It's the frizzlin' o' those shark-steaks; or, maybe, some sea-bird
squeaking up in the air."
"No, neyder one nor todder. Hush! Massa Brace, I hab hear some soun'
'tirely diffrent,--somethin' like de voice ob human man. You obsarb
silence. Maybe we hear im agen."
Snowball's companions, though inclined to incredulity, obeyed his
injunction. They might have treated it with less regard, had they not
known the Coromantee to be gifted with a sense of hearing that was
wonderfully acute. His largely-developed ears would have proved this
capacity; but they knew that he possessed it, from having witnessed many
exhibitions of it previous to that time. For this reason they yielded
to his double solicitation,--to remain silent and listen.
At this moment, to the surprise of Ben Brace and William, and not a
little to the astonishment of the negro, a tiny voice reached them from
below,--which they all easily recognised as that of Lilly Lalee.
"O Snowball," called out the girl, addressing herself to her especial
protector, "I hear people speaking. It's out upon the water. Do you
not hear them?"
"Hush! Lilly Lally," answered the negro, speaking down to his _protege_
in a sort of hoarse whisper; "hush, Lilly, pet; doan you 'peak above him
Lilly Breff. Keep 'till, dat a good gal."
The child, restrained by this string of cautionary appeals, offered no
further remark; and Snowball, making a sign for his companions to
continue silent, once more resumed his listening attitude.
Ben Brace and the boy, convinced by this additional testimony that the
Coromantee must have heard something more than the frizzling of the
shark-flesh, without saying a word, imitated his example, and eagerly
bent their ears to listen.
They had not long to wait before becoming convinced that Snowball _had_
heard something besides the spirting of the shark-steaks. They heard
something more themselves. They heard sounds that could not be mistaken
for those of the sea. _They were the voices of Men_!
They were still at some distance,--though, perhaps, not so distant as
they seemed. The thick fog, which, as every one knows, has the effect
of deadening sound, was to be taken into account; and, making allowance
for this, the voices heard might not be such a great way off.
Whatever was the distance, it was constantly becoming less. The
listeners could tell this, ere they had stood many minutes listening.
Whoever gave utterance to those sounds--words they were--must be moving
onward,--coming towards the carcass of the _cachalot_.
How were they coming? They could not be walking upon the water: they
must be aboard a ship?
This interrogatory occurred to those who stood upon the whale. Could
they have answered it in the affirmative, their own voices would soon
have been uplifted in a joyous huzza; while the hail "Ship ahoy!" would
have been sent through the sombre shadows of the mist, in the hope of
its receiving an answer.
Why was the hail not heard? Why did the crew of the _Catamaran_ stand
listening to those voices without making challenge, and with looks that
betokened apprehension rather than relief?
Six words that escaped from the lips of Ben Brace will explain the
silence of himself and his companions, as well at the dissatisfied air
that had impressed itself upon their faces. The six words were:--
"_Dangnation! it be the big raft_!"