Free The Black Pearl by Scott O’Dell Page A

longer than my arm, skimmed the water and flew by me like a bullet. I heard the chattering of its green teeth and as I turned around to see what ever could have frightened a fish that is noted for its courage, the water heaved up half a furlong behind the boat. From this hillock rose the manta.
    Through a shower of foam he rose high into the air, higher than I ever had seen one leap before, so high that I could see the flash of his white undersides and his long tail whipping about. There he seemed to rest for a moment or two, as if to survey all that lay about him, then down he came and struck the water a thunderous blow.
    "Your friend shows off," said the Sevillano.
    He spoke calmly and I looked at him, wondering that now, even now he did not know that it was the Manta Diablo who had leaped into the air and why he had done so.
    The Sevillano took the pearl from between his feet and wedged it behind the jug of water in the stern of the boat and picked up the harpoon.
    "I have killed nine mantas," he said. "They are much easier to kill than whales of the same size, because they lack the blubber of the whale. They are also easier to kill than the thresher shark or the six-gill or seven-gill shark or the tiger shark or the big gray one."
    The Manta Diablo sank from view. It was nearly noon before I saw him again. A light wind came up and ruffled the sea and it might have been that he swam there close behind us all the time the Sevillano was telling me how simple it was to kill a manta and where he had killed the nine.
    I first saw the outstretched wings and then he passed the boat and I saw the amber eyes turn and look at me as they had once before. They said as clearly as if the words were spoken, "The pearl is mine. Throw it into the sea. It has brought you ill fortune and ill fortune will be yours until you give it back."
    I must have muttered something at this moment that betrayed my fear, for the Sevillano squinted his eyes and studied me. He was certain at last that he had a child or a crazy man to deal with.
    The Manta Diablo swam by just out of range of the harpoon. Majestically he swam on ahead of us and came slowly back in a wide circle. The Sevillano waited for him with his feet spread apart and one leg braced against the tiller and the heavy harpoon in his hand.
    The pearl lay beyond my reach. I would need to crawl the length of the boat to get at it. Any movement I made now he would see, so I decided to wait until the Manta Diablo drew closer and the Sevillano would have his mind fixed upon him.
    Again the Sevillano looked at me. "I am beginning to understand a few things," he said in his soft voice, patiently as if he were talking to a child or someone bereft. "You stole the pearl from the Madonna because She failed to protect the fleet or your father. You traveled all night to the lagoon where you had found the pearl. And you went there to give it back to the Manta Diablo. Is this right?"
    I did not answer him.
    "Well," he said, "let me tell you something. It is news that you do not know, that no one knows except Gaspar Ruiz." He was silent for a moment, watching the Manta Diablo. "But for one small matter, at this very hour the fleet might be sailing under these same skies or riding safely at anchor in the harbor of La Paz. And your father might be sitting down in his patio to a feast of roast pig and good wine from Jerez."
    Anger seized me. I sat quietly and did not move, but the Sevillano saw it on my face.
    "Calm yourself," he said, "for I only wish to tell you why the fleet was wrecked upon the rocks of Punta Maldonado. A better one never sailed the Vermilion. Your father was a fine captain. Yet ships and men and your father all went down in a storm no worse than others they had lived through. Why, you ask."
    "I ask nothing."
    "But I will tell you, mate, because it may take me some time to get rid of the manta. While I am busy and not keeping a watchful eye, you might get a crazy idea. You might take the pearl