The Amphibian

FULL SPEED AHEAD!

“Salvator’s coming tomorrow. My fever’s kept me away just when there was a lot for us to talk about,” Cristo was saying to Baltasar in his shop. “Cock your ears, brother, and don’t interrupt me, so’s I won’t forget anything.”

Still weak after the fever Cristo paused, marshalling his thoughts, then continued:

“We’ve done a hell of a lot for Zurita, brother. He’s more brass than both of us but he’s out to get still more. He wants to catch the ‘sea-devil’-” Baltasar made to speak.

“Hold it, brother, else I forget something. Zurita wants the ‘sea-devil’ to slave for him. And d’you know what the ‘sea-devil’ is? A regular treasure. Untold riches. The ‘sea-devil’ can pick pearls from the sea-bottom-any amount of ‘em. But that’s not all. On the sea-bottom there’s plenty of sunken treasure. He can get it for us. I say, ‘us’, not Zurita, and I mean it. D’you know, brother, that Ichthyander’s in love with Gutierrez?”

Baltasar wanted to say something but Cristo didn’t let him.

“Keep quiet and listen, will you. I can’t speak when people interrupt me. Yes, Ichthyander’s in love with Gutierrez. There isn’t much gets past me. When I twigged that I told myself, ‘Not a bad thing that,’ I said. Let him fall in love with her good and proper. Hell make a better husband-and son-in-law — than Zurita. And Gutierrez too loves Ichthyander. I’ve shadowed them, not interfering with Ichthyander in any way. Let them meet as often as they wish, I thought.”

Baltasar sighed but did not try to say anything.

“And that’s not all, brother. Listen further. I’d like to recall to your memory things that happened many, many years ago. About twenty years back it was, you 11 remember, I was accompanying your wife home from a visit to her people. We’d been to the mountains to bury her mother. On the way your wife died, giving birth to a dead child. At that time I didn’t tell you everything. Wanted to spare your feelings. Here’s the whole story. Your wife did die on the way here, that’s true, but the clild was born alive, though very weak. It was in a small Indian village it all happened. And an old woman told me that a great miracle-worker, God Salvator, lived not far away…”

Baltasar became all ears.

“She advised me to carry the child to Salvator, saying he’d cure it. I did as she told. Salvator took the boy — for a boy it was-shook his head and said, ‘It’s very difficult to save him.’ But still he took him in. I waited there till nightfall. When it grew dark a Black came out and told me the child was dead. Then I went away…

“So”, Cristo went on, after a pause, “Salvator told me through the Black that the child was dead. Now I had noticed a birthmark on the newly-bom. Somehow I remembered it, shape and all.”

There was another pause, then Cristo took up his story again.

“Not long ago Ichthyander came home, wounded in the neck. When I was bandaging him, I lifted the collar of his mail and saw a birthmark, exactly like your son’s.”

Opening eyes wide with excitement Baltasar asked:

“You think Ichthyander’s my son?”

“Keep quiet, brother, and listen. Yes, that’s exactly what I do think. Salvator lied to me. Your son did not die, Salvator made a ‘sea-devil’ out

of him.”

“Oh! “ Baltasar cried, beside himself. “How dare he do it! Ill kill him withmy own hands! “

“Keep quiet. Salvator’s stronger’n you. And then I might’ve made a mistake. It’s twenty years. Somebody else might have a birthmark exactly on the same spot. Ichthyander might be your son and again he might not. You must play your hand careful like. You go to Salvator and tell him that Ichthyander’s your son. I’ll be your witness. You will demand your son be returned to you. Failing that you will say you will sue him for maiming children. Thatll give Mm a proper scare. If he’s obstinate you will go to court. If we can’t pull it off in the courts Ichthyander II just marry Gutierrez and that’s that. After all she’s only your adopted daughter…”

Baltasar had jumped up from hisstool and started pacing up and down the shop, all but treading on the crabs and shells on the floor. “My son! My son! Oh, what a misfortune! “ “Why a misfortune?” asked Cristo, surprised.

“I’ve listened to you, now you listen to me. While you were laid up with your fever Gutierrez was married to Pedro Zurita.” The news made Cristo stagger.

“And Ichthyander, my poor son,” Baltasar said, hanging his head, “is in Zurita’s hands.”

“Impossible, “said Cristo.

“Yes. Ichthyander’s on board the Jellyfish. This morning Zurita was here to see me. He laughed and swore at us. He said we’d been cheating him. Just think, he caught Ichthyander all on his own, without any help from us. He won’t pay us anything. But I wouldn’t have taken anything from him anyway. I’m not selling my own son.”

Baltasar, distraught, dashed about the shop. Cristo eyed him disapprovingly. It was a case of all hands to the pump. But Baltasar could sooner ruin things, taking on like that. Himself, Cristo did not believe much in Baltasar’s fatherhood. True he had seen that birthmark on the newly-born. But was that enough to build a whole case on? Seeing a similar birth mark on Ichthyander’s neck he had decided to cash in on it. How could he have known Baltasar would carry on like a madman. And then the news he had learned from Baltasar had given him quite a scare.

“No time for tears now. We’ve got to act. Salvator’s coming tomorrow at dawn. Brace up and listen. You will wait for me at dawn on the breakwater. We’ve got to save Ichthyander. But, mind now, don’t go and tell Salvator you’re Ichthyan-der’s father. Where’s Zurita bound for?”

“He didn’t say but I think it’s north. He made up his mind long ago to go up to the coast of Panama.” Cristo nodded.

“So remember, you’re to be up and on the breakwater by first light. And stick around there even if you have to wait till nightfall.”

Cristo hurried home. All that night he thought of the meeting with Salvator. There was no way out. He had to face it and have a good story ready. Salvator arrived at dawn. As he was greeting his master, Cristo’s face wore an expression ofdistressed loyalty.

“We’ve had a misfortune,” he said, “I warned Ichthyander not to swim out into the gulf…”

“What’s happened to him?” Salvator asked impatiently.

“He was captured and taken on board a schooner. I-”

Salvator had gripped Cristo’s shoulders and was peering closely into his eyes. Short as it lasted, Cristo could not help changing colour under that searching glance. Then Salvator knitted his brows, muttered something and unclenched his hands.

“You will tell me about it in detail later.”

Then he called a Black, said a few words to him in a language Cristo did not know and again turned to the Indian.

“Follow me! “ Salvator ordered.

Without resting from the journey or even changing his travelling clothes, Salvator strode out of the house and across the garden. Cristo could hardly keep up with him. At the third wall two Blacks caught up with them.

“I watched over Ichthyander day and night, like a dog,” Cristo was saying, panting. “I never left his side…” But Salvator would not listen to him. Standing at the pool he was tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the water gush out through the yawning hatches.

“Follow me,” Salvator ordered again and hurried down the steps that led underground. Cristo and the two Blacks followed the doctor into the darkness. Salvator ran down the steps, taking two at a time, apparently quite at home in the maze of subterranean passages.

On the bottom landing Salvator did not turn on the light as once before but, after a moment’s feeling about with his hand, opened a door to Ms right and strode on along a dark corridor. There were no steps there and, despite complete darkness, Salvator was going very quick now.

I hope to God there are no man-traps here, Cristo was thinking, hurrying after Salvator. They had been going quite a long time when Cristo felt the floor begin to slope down gently. He thought he could hear a faint splash of water. Then their journey was over. Salvator who was well ahead of them had stopped and switched on the light. Cristo found himself in a large cave, standing on a piece of stone flooring set into the big oblong of water that converged with the sloping ceiling at the far end. On the water, at the edge of the flooring Cristo saw a midget submarine. The little party went on board the boat. Salvator switched on the light in the cabin, while one Black was battening down the upper hatch and the other revving the engine. Cristo felt the boat shudder, slowly turn round, submerge and as slowly move forward. After two minutes or so they surfaced. Salvator and Cristo came out on deck. Cristo had never been on board a submarine before and looked round with interest.

“Where are Ichthyander’s captors heading?”

“Up north, along the coast,” said Cristo. “I hope you will forgive my boldness, master, if I suggest you take my brother along. He’s been warned and is waiting on the shore.”

“Whatever for?”

“Ichthyander was captured by the pearl trader Zurita-”

“How do you know all this?” Salvator took him up short.

“I described the schooner to my brother and he was sure it was Pedro Zurita’s Jellyfish. My guess is Zurita wants to use Ichthyander for pearl-diving. And Baltasar-that’s my brother-knows all there is to know about the pearling grounds round here. Youll find him useful.”

Salvator pondered.

“Good. We’ll take your brother along.”

The boat veered shorewards where Baltasar could already be seen waiting to be picked up. From the breakwater Baltasar looked, frowningly, at the man who had stolen and mutilated his son. However, when the submarine came nearer inshore, he bowed politely to Salvator, before wading aboard.

“Full speed ahead! “ ordered Salvator.

He stayed on deck, planted firmly, peering into the wide ocean.

THE EXTRAORDINARY PRISONER

Zurita removed Ichthyander’s manacles as he had promised, gave him some clothes and took him to the river where he even let him collect his gloves and goggles. But as soon as they were on board the Jellyfish Ichthyander was seized by the crew, acting on Zurita’s orders, and locked in the hold. At Buenos Aires Zurita made a short stop to take on stores. He went to see Baltasar to show off his luck and then pulled out of harbour and hugged the coast, making for Rio de Janeiro. He intended to run north the length of South America and only start pearl-diving in the Caribbean Sea.

Gutierrez he had accommodated in the captain’s cabin. He had assured her that he had let Ichthyander go in the Rio de la Plata. However she soon knew it wasn’t true. In the evening Gutierrez heard faint cries and recognized Ichthyander’s voice. She was alone in the cabin and when she tried to go out she found the door locked. She drummed with her fists on it and shouted but nobody paid the least attention.

Hearing Ichthyander’s cries Zurita let out a string of coarse oaths, left the bridge and, followed by an Indian sailor, went down below into the dark and stuffy hold.

“What the hell are you yelling for?” Zurita asked.

“I’m-I’m suffocating,” Ichthyander’s voice came up to him. “I can’t live without water. It’s too stuffy here. Let me swim away. I won’t last to see the morning.”

Zurita clanged the hatch in place and came on deck. Suppose he really does croak, he thought worriedly. There’s no good in that.

He ordered a barrel to be lowered into the hold and pumped full of water.

“Here’s a bath for you,” Zurita said to Ichthyander. “You can have your swim. And tomorrow I’ll let you swim in the sea.”

Ichthyander got into the barrel. The Indian crew pressed round the hatch, in goggle-eyed wonder. They did not know yet that the prisoner was the “sea-devil “in flesh.

“Get the hell out of here! “ Zurita shouted at them from the hatchway.

Far from being able to swim Ichthyander could not even stretch full-length in the barrel and had to crouch for a full dip. Besides the barrel had been used for keeping salt pork in and the water in it was soon giving off a foul stench, making things not much better for Ichthyander than they had been before.

Meanwhile the schooner sped north, running before a fresh south-easterner.

Zurita went down to Ms cabin from the bridge in the bleary pre-dawn hour. He hoped his wife would have been long in bed. But he found her sitting up at the narrow table, her head resting on her arms. On his entry Gutierrez rose and in the dim light of the lamp hanging from the ceiling he saw a pale determined face.

“You deceived me,” she said in a hollow voice.

Somewhat disconcerted, even embarrassed, under Ms wife’s glaring eyes, yet anxious to conceal it, Zurita affected an I’m-sure-I-don’t-know-what-you-mean expression and gave his moustache a smart twist.

“Ichthyander chose to stay on board the Jellyfish to be near you,” he said ban-teringly.

“That’s a lie! You’re a mean and despicable man. I hate you! “ Without warning she snatched a dagger from its place on the wall and swung it at Zurita.

“Oho,” said Zurita as he caught her hand and gave it a savage squeeze that made her drop the weapon.

Then he kicked the dagger out of the cabin and let go of his wife’s hand.

“That’s better,” he said. “A drink of iced water should do your nerves a power of good.”

And he went out and locked the door.

As he came out on deck the eastern horizon was turning rosy while the still hidden sun had set the flimsy clouds afire. Salty and fresh, the morning breeze filled the sails. Sea-gulls wheeled above, on the look-out for unwary fish.

When the sun had come up Zurita was still pacing the deck, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Well, I’ve managed worse things, haven’t I,” he finally said to himself.

Then he ordered the crew to furl the sails. Presently the Jellyfish was riding at anchor on the lumpy seas.

“Fetch the prisoner and the chain,” Zurita ordered. He’d been itching to test Ichthyander’s performance as pearl-diver since he’d brought him on board. Besides hell perk up a bit in the water, he thought.

Two Indians frogmarched Ichthyander out on deck to the mizzen and stopped there. He threw a glance round him. The ship’s rail was only a few paces away. Without warning Ichthyander lunged for the rail and was about to jump overboard when Zurita’s heavy fist caught him on the side of his head. He dropped without as much as a groan.

“Haste doesn’t pay,” Zurita said sententiously.

There was a clang of iron as one of the sailors lugged out on deck a coil of thin chain ending in a band, also made of iron. Zurita adjusted the band round the still unconscious amphibian’s middle and locked it.

“Pour some water on his head,” he told the sailors.

After a while the young man came to himself and stared, bewildered, at the chain to which he was shackled.

“That’s to stop you running away,” Zurita explained. “I’m going to let you into the sea. Youll be looking for pearl shells for me. The more pearls you find the longer you stay in the sea. But no funny business, mind, or back you go into your barrel. Understand? Now, is that a bargain?”

Ichthyander nodded.

He was willing to get for Zurita all the treasures of the sea, so long as he could stay in its clean waters.

Zurita, the chained Ichthyander and his Indian escort went to the rail again. Gutierrez’s cabin was on the other side of the ship: Zurita did not particularly wish her to see Ichthyander in irons.

Ichthyander was lowered into the water and onto the sea-bottom. If he could only break the chain! But it was too strong for him and, resignedly, Ichthyander set to collecting pearl shells and putting them into the bag that hung from hisside. The iron band pressed his sides, making breathing rather difficult. And yet Ichthyander felt almost happy after having been doubled up for a whole night in that reeky barrel.

Up on deck the sailors, all agog, watched the happening. Minutes passed but the man on the sea-bed showed no sign of coming up. At first bubbles of air had appeared on the surface but soon even these ceased.

“Ill be eaten up by a shark if he’s got a gasp of air left in them lungs of his. Looks he feels hisself as much at home down there as a fish,” an old pearl-diver said in amazement, peering into the water below where the young man could be easily seen crawling on all fours along the sea-bed.

“May be it’s the ‘sea-devil’ himself?” a sailor said softly.

“Sea-devil or no sea-devil, the captain’s made a jolly good bargain,” said the first mate. “A diver like this is worth a dozen.”

The sun was close to the zenith when Ichthyander tugged at the chain to be pulled up. His bag was brim-full and he wanted to empty it so that he could go on with his work.

The Indian sailors hauled up the wonder diver in a trice. Everybody was dying to see the catch.

Ordinarily pearl shells are left alone for some days to rot but this time Zurita and his crew were far too impatient. So everybody set to work, prising the shells open with knives.

When they had finished with the shells everybody began to speak at once. A clamour of eager voices broke on deck. Perhaps Ichthyander had been lucky to strike a paying spot, but anyway what he had brought up in his very first bag surpassed everybody’s expectations. Among the numerous pearls there were a score of heavies, of excellent shape and exquisite colouring. Indeed his very first catch had brought Zurita a fortune. For the price of one of the bigger pearls he could buy a new schooner. Zurita was on the road to wealth. His dreams were coming true.

Then Zurita became aware of the greedy glances the sailors were throwing at the pearls. He didn’t like it and hastened to scoop the pearls into his straw hat.

“It’s time we all had breakfast,” he said dismissing the crew. “You’re not a bad diver, Ichthyander. I’ve got a spare cabin. I’m going to give it over to you. It won’t be so close there. And I’ll have a zinc tank made for you, though, you may not need it, seeing as you’re likely to swim in the sea every day. Chained, to be sure. But what can I do? You’d swim away of me otherwise, back to your crabs.”

Ichthyander hated to speak with Zurita. But so long as he was that man’s prisoner he should at least try and get decent lodgings out of him.

“A tank’s better than a stinky barrel,” he said to Zurita, “but youll have to change water often for me to breathe comfortably.”

“How often?” “Every half hour,” said Ichthyander. “Running water’d be still better.”

“I can see your head’s turned with success. I’ve praised you a little and here you are, demanding things, picking and choosing.”

“I’m not picking and choosing,” Ichthyander said in a hurt voice. “I’m-don’t you see, if you put a big fish into a pail of water it soon goes to sleep. A fish breathes oxygen out of the water and I–I’m no more than a very big fish really,” Ichthyander said with a self-conscious smile.

“I don’t know about oxygen but I do know that fish croak if you don’t change their water. Perhaps you’re right. But pumping water into your tank round the clock will cost me a pretty penny, more than your pearls are worth. You’ll ruin me that way.”

Now Ichthyander had no clear idea about the prices pearls fetch, neither did he know that Zurita paid his crew next to nothing. He believed what he said.

“If you find it too expensive to keep me, let me swim away! “ exclaimed Ichthyander and looked longingly at the ocean.

“Smart, aren’t you,” Zurita guffawed.

“Please. I will bring you pearls of my own free will. I’ve collected a heap of smooth round pearls, this high”, and Ichthyander touched his knee, “all alike and as big as a bean. Ill give you all of them, to the last one, if you only let me go.”

That virtually took Zurita’s breath away.

“Can’t be true,” he managed to say, trying to sound cool.

“I’ve never lied in my life,” Ichthyander flared up.

“Where’s that treasure of yours buried?” Zurita asked, no longer able to conceal his excitement.

“In a cave under the sea. Save for Leading nobody knows where it is.”

“Who’s Leading?”

“My dolphin.”

“Oh, is that so?”

What devilry is this? he thought. But if what he says is true — and I’ve a hunch it is-why, it’s bigger than anything I’ve ever dreamed of. I’ll be rich beyond imagination. Rothschilds and Rockefellers will look a bunch of beggars in comparison. I’ve a feeling the young fellow can be trusted. Shall I risk it?

But Zurita wasn’t one to treat any man’s word as sufficient security. And then doing Ichthyander out of his treasure and keeping him had a greater appeal for Zurita anyhow. Then his plan flashed on him. If Gutierrez asks Ichthyander to fetch his pearls hell do it, he thought.

“Perhaps I will let you go,” said Zurita, “but not straightway. Ill keep you for a while. Yes. I’ve got my reasons, of course. And I fancy you won’t have cause to regret a little delay either. And while you’re my guest, even if an unwilling one, I will see to it that you’re comfortable. Perhaps a big iron cage’d be just the job for you, seeing as a tank ‘d involve too much expense. You’d be lowered overboard in it-good for keeping the sharks off you too.”

“Yes, but I must sometimes breathe air as well.”

“Well, we’ll have you pulled up for that. That’ll be cheaper than pumping water into a tank. In a word, I’ll see to everything, you’ll be pleased.”

Zurita was in excellent spirits. He even ordered a tot of rum to be issued to all hands at breakfast — something that was never done on board his schooner.

While Ichthyander was being taken back into the hold awaiting a tank or cage, Zurita went below and unlocked the captain’s cabin. Not sure he was welcome, he halted in the doorway, showing his hatful of pearls to Gutierrez.

“I keep my promises,” he began, beaming at her, “and I know that my wife is fond of pearls — plenty of pearls. But you need a good diver for that. That’s why I’ve kept Ichthyander. Look, this is just one morning’s catch.”

Gutierrez affected a casual glance at the pearls. It was all she could do to suppress an exclamation of surprise. But Zurita sensed it and gave a complacent laugh.

“Youll be the richest woman in Argentina, in the whole of America. Youll have everything money can buy. Ill build a palace for you that will make kings gape with envy. Please accept the first instalment — half of these pearls.”

“No. I won’t touch a single one of those pearls got at the cost of a crime,” Gutierrez retorted sharply. “And, please, leave me alone.”

Zurita was dismayed and annoyed. He had not expected anything like that.

“Wait a minute. There’s something I wanted to ask you. Would you like me to let Ichthyander go?”

Gutierrez looked at Zurita distrustfully as she tried to guess what new ruse he had thought up.

“What next?” she asked him coldly.

“His fate’s in your hands. You have only to bid Ichthyander bring on board the Jellyfish the pearls he’s hiding somewhere under the water and hell be free to go where he pleases,”

“Now listen to me, Zurita. I don’t believe a single word of yours. You’re out to have the pearls and Ichthyander. I’m as sure of that as of the fact that I’m the wife of the biggest liar and double-crosser that ever walked in shoeleather. Remember this and never try again to make me party to your evil doings. Once more-leave me alone, please.”

There didn’t seem to be anything more Zurita could say, so he went out. Back in his own cabin he poured the pearls into a pouch, put it carefully into the chest, locked it and went up on deck. What his wife had just said to him did not affect him much. In his mind’s eye he saw himself a rich man with people crowding to pay homage to him.

He mounted the bridge and lit a cigar. The dreams of riches to come were warming him pleasantly. Usually alert, he did not see the sailors gather in groups to discuss something.