must have been two hours afterward 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, to avoid 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.