Back to the boat! In the minds of the _Catamaran's_ crew naturally did
this resolve succeed to the spectacle they had just witnessed. There
was nothing to stay them on that spot. The bloodstained water, which
momentarily marked the scene of the tragedy, had no further interest for
those who had been spectators to it; and once more heading their craft
for the drifting gig, they made way towards it as fast as their oars and
the sail, now reset, would carry them.
They no longer speculated as to the boat being occupied by a crew,--
either sleeping or awake. In view of the events that had occurred, it
was scarce possible that anyone, in either condition, could be aboard of
her. She must have been abandoned, before that hour, by all but the
solitary individual standing amidships, and pouring out his insane
utterances to the ears of the ocean.
Where were the men that were missing? This was the question that
occupied the crew of the _Catamaran_,--as they advanced towards the
deserted gig--and to which they could give no satisfactory answer.
They could only shape conjectures,--none of which had much air of
probability.
From what they knew or suspected to have occurred upon the large raft
they could draw inferences of a revolting nature. It might be that the
same course had been pursued among those in the gig; and yet it seemed
scarce probable. It was known that the latter had gone off from the
burning bark, if not sufficiently provided for a long voyage, at least
with a stock of both food and water that should have sustained them for
many days. Little William had been a witness of their departure, and
could confirm these facts. Why then had their boat-voyage resulted so
disastrously? It could not have arisen from want. It could not have
been the gale.
In all probability, had the sea washed over them, the boat would either
have been swamped or capsized. The captain alone could not have righted
her. Besides, why should he be the only survivor of the six?
But there had not been storm enough for a disaster of this kind; and
unless by some dire mismanagement, the men could not have fallen
overboard.
Still puzzled to account for the strange condition of things, the crew
of the _Catamaran_ continued to pull towards the gig, and at length came
up with it.
There they beheld a horrid spectacle, though it afforded no clue to what
had occurred. In fact it left the affair as inexplicable as ever. What
they saw gave them reason to believe that some terrible tragedy had
transpired on board the boat; and that not the elements, but the hand of
man, had caused the disappearance of the crew.
Along the bottom timbers lay stretched a human form. It was not only
lifeless, but disfigured by many wounds,--anyone of which would have
proved mortal. The face was gashed in the most frightful manner; and
the skull crushed in several places, as if by repeated blows of a heavy
hammer, while numerous wounds, that had been inflicted by some
sharp-bladed weapon or implement, appeared over the breast and body.
This mutilated shape of humanity was lying half submerged in the
bilge-water contained in the boat, and which looked more like blood. So
deep was it in colour, and in such quantity, that it was difficult to
believe it could have been stained by the blood of only that one body,
to which in turn, as the red fluid went washing over it, had been
imparted the same sanguinary hue.
The features of the hideous corpse could not be identified. The axe,
knife, or whatever weapon it was, had defaced them beyond recognition;
but for all this, both Ben Brace and Snowball recognised the mutilated
remains. Something in the garments still clinging round the corpse was
remembered, and by this they were enabled to identify it as that of one
too well-known to them,--the first mate of the slaver.
Instead of elucidating the mystery, this knowledge only rendered it more
inexplicable. It was evident the man had been murdered. The wounds
proved that; for from the appearance of the extravasated blood they must
have been given while he was still alive.
It was but natural to suppose that the deed had been done by his insane
companion. The number and character of the wounds,--consisting of
blows, cuts, and gashes, showed that they had been inflicted by some one
out of his senses; for life must have been extinct before half of them
could have been given.
So far the circumstances seemed clear enough. The maniac captain had
murdered the mate. No motive could be guessed at; for no motive was
needed to inspire a madman.
Beyond this all was shrouded in mystery. What was to explain the
absence of the other four? What had become of them? The crew of the
_Catamaran_ could only frame conjectures,--all of a horrid nature. That
of Snowball was the most rational that could be arrived at.
It suggested the probability that the first mate and captain had
combined in the destruction of the others,--their motive being to get
all the food and water themselves, and thus secure a better chance of
prolonging their lives. They might have accomplished their atrocious
design in various ways. There might have been a struggle in which these
two men,--much stronger than their fellows,--had proved victorious; or
there might not have been any contest at all. The foul crime could have
been committed in the night, when their unsuspicious comrades were
asleep; or even by the light of day, when the latter were under the
spell of intoxication,--produced by the brandy that had furnished part
of the stores of the gig.
All these were horrid imaginings; but neither Snowball nor the sailor
could help giving way to them. Otherwise they could not account for the
dreadful drama of which that bloodstained boat must have been the scene.
Supposing their conjectures to have been correct, no wonder that the
sole survivor of such scenes should have been found a raving lunatic,--
no wonder the man had gone mad!