dissipated the ravenous horde that had surrounded the death ship and
fed off the dead.

It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must
have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch
covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest
chance that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of
line was trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for
a day, at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later,
possibly a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed
eyes, concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough
air to keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in
enough water to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The
rain had ceased, and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty
feet away from me, on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the
heathen. They were fighting over the possession of the cover--at
least, the Frenchman was. "Paien noir!" I heard him scream, and at the
same time I saw him kick the kanaka.

Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and
they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the
heathen on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I
looked for him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming
about forlornly a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea
threw him closer, the Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out
at him with both feet. Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he
called the kanaka a black heathen.

"For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!"
I yelled.