boats. Their cries
pealed along the seething surface of the waters, and died without even
an echo.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

FEARFUL FELLOW-SWIMMERS.

The shipwrecked sailor, floating upon his frail raft, or some spar of
his shattered vessel, could not be more at the mercy of wave and wind,
than were the two men astride of the capsized canoe. Their situation
was indeed desperate. The stroke of a strong sea would be sufficient to
swamp their frail embarkation; and, should the tempest continue to
increase in fury, then destruction appeared inevitable.

Despite the imminent danger, Lantejas still indulged a hope that the
intrepidity of the Zapoteque might rescue him from the present danger,
as it had from many others. Sustained by this vague belief, he kept his
eyes fixed upon the countenance of Costal, while endeavouring to read in
its expression the condition of the Indian's spirit.

Up to that time the imperturbable coolness exhibited by the _ex-tigrero_
had favoured the hopes of his companion. As the time passed, however,
and nothing was seen of the whale-boats, even the features of Costal
began to wear an expression of anxiety. There is a difference, however,
between anxiety and despair. The spirit of the Indian had only
succumbed to the former of these two phases.

"Well, Costal, what think you?" demanded Lantejas, with a view of
breaking the silence, which appeared to him of ill omen.

"_Por Dios_!" replied the Indian, "I'm astonished that the barges have
not moved up on hearing that shot. It's not like the Marshal to hang
back so. He don't often need two such signals to advance--"

A blast of wind sweeping past at the moment hindered Lantejas from
hearing the last words of his companion's speech. He saw, however, that
the latter had relapsed into his ominous silence, and that the cloud of
inquietude was growing darker over his countenance. It was almost an
expression of fear that now betrayed itself upon the bronzed visage of
the Indian.

The Captain well knew that the least display of such a sentiment on the
part of Costal, was evidence that the danger was extreme. Not that he
needed any farther proof of this, than what he saw around him; but, so
long as the Zapoteque showed no signs of fear, he had entertained a hope
that the latter might still find some resource for their safety.

He almost believed himself saved, when the voice of the Indian once more
fell upon his ear, in a tone that s