A shark may be driven off for a time by the efforts of a human enemy,
but his natural voracity will soon impel him to return to the attack.
When the Indian therefore rose to the surface of the water--remembering
his old practice as a pearl-diver--he cast around him a glance of
caution. Having shouted back to his companion in misfortune some words
which the latter had indistinctly heard, he placed his knife between his
teeth, and swam straight onward.
It was not fear that caused him to take this precaution. It was merely
an act of habitual prudence.
As he struck out from the canoe, he perceived that two monsters of the
deep, far more formidable than those of the forest, were proceeding in
the same direction as himself. One was about twenty feet from him on
the right; the other appeared at an equal distance on his left; and both
were evidently _attending_ upon him!
Unpleasant as two such companions might be deemed, the swimmer at first
paid but slight attention to their movements. His mind was pre-occupied
with a variety of other thoughts--especially with the doubt as to
whether he might be able to find the barges. On the wide surface of the
sea, and in the midst of the profound darkness, it would be but too easy
to pass without perceiving them, and very difficult indeed to find them.
This apprehension, combined with those fearless habits in the water,
which he had contracted while following the life of a pearl-diver--and
furthermore his belief in a positive fatalism--all united in rendering
the Zapoteque indifferent to the presence of his two terrible
attendants.
Only at intervals, and then rather from prudence than fear, he turned
his head to the right or left, and glanced in the direction of his
_compagnons du voyage_. He could not help perceiving moreover that at
each instant the sharks were drawing nearer to him!
By a vigorous stroke on the water he now raised his body high over the
surface; and, there balancing for a moment, glanced forward. It was an
eager glance; for he was looking for that object on the finding of which
his life must depend. He saw only the line of the horizon of dull
sombre hue--no object visible upon it, except here and there the white
crests of the waves.
A sudden glance to the right, and another to the left, showed him the
two fearful creatures, now nearer than ever. Neither was more than ten
feet from his body!
Still the swimmer was not dismayed by their presence. Far more was he
daunted by the immense solitude of the watery surface that surrounded
him.
However bold a man may be, there are moments when danger must
necessarily cause him fear. Costal was in a position sufficiently
perilous to have unnerved most men. Swimming in the midst of a rising
sea--beyond sight of land, or any other object--escorted by two
voracious sharks--with a dark sky overhead, and no precise knowledge of
the direction in which he was going--no wonder he began to feel
something more than inquietude.
However strong may be a swimmer, he cannot fail after long keeping up
such vigorous action as it requires, to become fatigued, and worn out:
the more so when, like Costal, he carries a knife between his teeth--
thus impeding his free respiration. But the ex-pearl-diver did not
think of parting with the weapon--his only resource, in case of being
attacked by the sharks--and still keeping his lips closed upon it, he
swam on.
After a time, he felt his heart beating violently against his ribs. He
attributed this circumstance less to fear than to the efforts he was
making; and, taking the knife from his mouth, he carried it in one of
his hands.
The pulsations of his heart were not the less rapid: for it may be
acknowledged, without much shame to him, that Costal now really felt
fear. Moreover, swimming with one hand closed, it was necessary for him
to strike more rapidly with the other.
The precaution of holding his knife ready in hand, was not likely to
prove an idle one. The two sharks appeared gradually converging upon
the line which the swimmer must take, if he continued to swim directly
onward.
On observing this convergence of his silent and persevering pursuers,
Costal suddenly obliqued to the right. The sharks imitated his movement
on the instant, and swam on each side of him as before!
For a few minutes--long and fearful minutes--he was forced to keep on in
this new direction. He began to fancy he was swimming out of the way he
should have taken; and was about to turn once more to the left, when an
object came before his eyes that prompted him to utter an ejaculation of
joy.
In spite of himself, he had been guided into the right direction, by the
very enemies from whom he was endeavouring to escape; and it was the
sight of the barges that had drawn from him the joyful exclamation.
The moment after, he uttered a louder cry, hailing the boats.
He had the satisfaction of hearing a response; but as no one saw him
through the darkness, it was necessary for him to continue swimming
onwards.
By this time the two sharks had closed on each side, and were gliding
along so near, that only a narrow way was open between them. Costal
felt that he had not sufficient strength to make a detour; and the only
course left him, was to swim straight for the nearest boat. He kept on
therefore, his heart beating against his ribs, and with his knife firmly
held in his grasp--ready to bury the weapon in the throat of the first
that should assail him. With the last efforts of his strength he lunged
out right and left, by voice and gesture endeavouring to frighten off
the two monsters that flanked him; and he proceeded onward in this way
like some doomed ship, struggling between black masses of rocky
breakers.
By good fortune his efforts proved successful. The hideous creatures,
glaring upon him with glassy eyeballs, were nevertheless frightened by
his menacing gestures, and for the moment diverged a little out of his
way.
Costal took advantage of this precious moment; and, swimming rapidly
forward, succeeded in clutching the side of one of the barges.
A dozen friendly arms instantly drew him aboard; but as his comrades
bent over him upon the deck, they perceived that he was unconscious.
The effort had been too much for his strength. He had sunk into a
syncope.
The presence of Costal in such sad plight sufficiently revealed the fate
of the canoe and its occupants. Words could not have made the history
of their misfortune more clear.
"It is no use remaining longer here," said the soldier-admiral. "The
canoe must have gone to the bottom. Now, my braves! we shall pull
straight for the isle."