The Ocean Waifs: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea

In point of time the shark had had the start of him; and, although on parting from the raft the distances each would have to traverse were not very unequal, Snowball knew that his scaly competitor far excelled him in the quality of speed.

It was this thought that was causing him anxiety, – amounting almost to anguish, – that caused him to plunge wildly through the water, – to utter loud cries, and make other noisy demonstrations, – with a view of distracting the attention of the zygaena from the victims it had fore-chosen, and drawing its attack upon himself.

His shouts and gesticulations proved equally unavailing. The cunning zygaena took no heed of either; but with its dark dorsal fin, set like a well-bent sail, it kept straight on towards the easier victims.

The sides of the isosceles triangle were gradually growing unequal, – gradually and slowly, but, alas! surely. Already was it an irregular scalene. Snowball perceived the change, – each moment becoming more perceptible, each moment augmenting his fears.

“Poor lilly Lally!” cried he, in a voice that betrayed his anxiety. “O Mass’ Ben! fo’ de lub o’ Gorramity, swum to de right, – round dat away, an’ let me git ’tween you an de ravenin’ beast. To de right! – da’s de way. Do yer bess, Mass’ Brace, an’ gi’ me time get up. I take care o’ de lubber ef I once get im widin reach o’ dis chile’s arm.”

The injunction thus uttered had the desired effect. Up to that time the sailor, sunk low in the water by reason of the extra weight, had not become fully cognisant of the peril of his position. Hitherto his mind had been more occupied with the idea of overtaking the raft, than any danger to be dreaded from sharks. He was not even aware of the zygaena’s approach; for the fin, which had betrayed the monster’s presence to those on the Catamaran, – from being seen en profile, – could not so easily be distinguished when viewed in “front-face.” No wonder, therefore, that the victims which the zygaena had selected for its attack remained unconscious of its approach; and it was only on seeing Snowball spring out from the Catamaran, and swim towards him, that the sailor suspected the proximity of a shark. At the same instant, also, he remembered the interrogatory that had been addressed to him by little William, and his own laconic reply designating the individual as a hammer-head. From these various circumstances he could tell that there was a shark bearing down upon him; but in what direction he could not conjecture, until the hurried words of Snowball admonished him to “make way to de right.”

The sailor had too much respect for the experience of the ex-cook to disregard the injunctions thus given; and of hearing them, he at once swerved in the direction indicated, and “made way to de right” as fast as a man could swim with only one hand free for the stroke.

Fortunately for all parties, the one arm proved sufficient. The new direction entered upon by the swimmer soon changed the relative position of all parties. The triangle became resolved into a right line, – the shark at one extremity, – the sailor with his charge at the other, – Snowball midway between!

Chapter Thirty One.

Face to Face

By this change in the position of the parties, the zygaena had lost its advantage. Instead of having for the object of its attack an exhausted swimmer encumbered with a weight, without a weapon, or even an arm free to wield one, it would now have for its antagonist a strong man, – fresh and vigorous, – armed with a long-bladed knife; one, moreover, who from earliest youth had lived a half-amphibious life, and who was almost as much at home in the water as the shark itself. At all events, the Coromantee could calculate on keeping himself above water for several hours without rest, and under it as long as any other animal whose natural element was the earth or the air.

Snowball, however, had no intention to go wider, – not an inch deeper than he could possibly help: for therein would lie his danger, and he knew it. As we have already said, it was not the first time for him to encounter a shark in its own element; and though, perhaps, not so familial with the hammer-head as with the white shark, he was not altogether unacquainted with the habits and peculiarities of the former species.

He knew that the zygaena, like others of its congeners, in seizing an object, requires to have that object under it; otherwise, it is compelled to turn upon its back or side, just in proportion as the prey it would seize lies high or low in the water. If altogether on the surface, the shark is forced to make a complete roll, belly upward; and this necessity, – arising from the peculiar position of the animal’s mouth, and the conformation of its jaws, – is well-known among mariners, and better among true shark-fighters, who use it to their advantage. Among the pearl-divers of the Vermilion Sea (Gulf of California), the attack of the common shark is but little dreaded. The only weapon used by them is a piece of stick (the estaca), sharpened at both ends, and hardened by fire. Provided with this simple weapon, which they carry, stuck through a loop in their leathern belt, they dive without fear among the sharks that frequent the waters of the pearl-oyster fishery. When attacked by one of these voracious creatures, they wait for the moment when the shark makes its semi-somersault, and opens its cavernous mouth. Then, with an adroitness drawn from practice, and a fearlessness which only great confidence can give, they thrust the estaca, gag-fashion, between the creature’s jaws, leaving it no alternative but to retreat with its jaws wide open, or to close them to its own certain destruction. Among these pearl-fisheries, however, a species of shark occasionally shows itself that cannot be destroyed in such a simple fashion. It is known as the tintorera, and is as much dreaded by the pearl-divers as the common shark is by the ordinary mariner.

Fierce as is the zygaena and dreaded above all others of its tribe, – half the dread no doubt is attributable to its hideous configuration. Snowball knew that before it could injure him, it must make the half-turn, and, therefore, approached it with the determination to keep well upon the surface of the water, and not let it get above him.

The conflict was now inevitable: for the shark, although apparently a little put about by the transposition that had taken place, had determined upon having a meal of human flesh. Its white victims had escaped it for the time, but it was not particular as to the colour of the skin, and Snowball might be as sweet to its palate as Ben Brace or Lilly Lalee.

We are not going to assert that it reasoned after this fashion, or that any thoughts whatever passed through its huge mallet-shaped skull. Indeed, there was not much time for reflection: for as Snowball interposed his body between the zygaena and its intended victims, the woolly head of the Coromantee and the hammer-head of the shark were scarcely three lengths of a handspike from each other.

It was a fearful situation for a human being to be in; and any other than an old shark-fighter would, at such a moment, have succumbed from sheer terror.

Not so Snowball, who appeared to enter the lists with as little dread and as much confidence as if his fetisch had given him full assurance of victory.

Little William, standing upon the stern of the Catamaran with suspended breath, noting every turn of the spectacle, could see Snowball drawing the knife from his belt. Not for long, however, did he hold it clutched in his hand. For greater convenience, and to give his hands free play, while evading the attacks of his finny antagonist, he transferred the knife to his mouth, where it was seen set transversely across his cheeks, the blade tightly held between his teeth. In this strange fashion did Snowball meet his enemy, – the truculent tyrant of the deep.

Chapter Thirty Two.

A Ring Performance

It might be supposed that the shark would have rushed instantaneously upon its antagonist, regardless of aught save making a meal of him. But no, the zygaena, notwithstanding its great voracity, like the rest of its tribe, is endowed with certain instincts of caution. The sea-tiger, as well as that of the land, can tell instinctively whether the object of its attack is likely to become an easy prey, or turn out a dangerous adversary.

Some such – shall we call it an idea? – seemed to enter the unshapely skull of the hammer-head, – suggested no doubt by the bold attitude which Snowball had assumed. In all likelihood, had the negro been making away, instead of swimming towards it, and showing signs of a desire to escape, its onset would have been made on the instant.

As it was, the shark saw itself vis-à-vis to an adversary nearly as large as itself and quite as courageous; and it is possible also that its pilot-fish, – a brace of which had advanced close to Snowball’s snout, and after submitting his dusky carcass to a brief examination returned to their master, – it is just possible that these emissaries had reported to their patron, that the game he was in pursuit of must be approached with caution.

At all events something had been communicated that produced a sudden change in the tactics of the zygaena. Instead of rushing recklessly on to the attack, – or even keeping up the swimming pace by which it had hitherto been making its approach, – on arriving within some half-score fathoms of Snowball’s face, it gradually slackened speed, until its brown, fan-like fins, gently oscillating along its sides seemed no longer to propel its body through the water.

Moreover, on drawing nearer, it swerved slightly from its course, – as if with the design either of attacking its adversary in the rear, or passing him altogether!

Strange enough, the two parasites appeared to direct this movement: for both kept swimming alongside the zygaena, one of them opposite each of its huge eyeballs.

The negro seemed slightly perplexed by this unexpected manoeuvre. He had anticipated an instantaneous attack, and had made every preparation to receive and repel it. He had even taken the knife from his teeth, and was holding it tightly clutched in his right hand, ready to deal his deadly blow.

The shyness of the shark produced a disappointment.

Something besides: for it now occurred to Snowball that the cunning zygaena was trying to pass him, with the design of making a razzia towards the helpless party in his rear.

The moment this suspicion arose to him he turned short in the water, and struck out in a direction that would enable him to head the shark, and, if possible, intercept it.

Whether the creature intended to pursue his original plan of attacking the sailor and his charge, or whether he was manoeuvring to turn the Coromantee, it mattered not. In either case Snowball was pursuing the correct strategy. He knew that if his supple antagonist could once get round to his rear, his chances of safety for himself or the others would be sadly diminished. Should the zygaena once get past him and continue on towards the sailor, swift swimmer as Snowball was, he could have no chance of overtaking a fish.

At this crisis a thought occurred to him which promised to avert the calamity he most dreaded, – that is, the shark getting past him, and continuing on to the others. The thought found expression in speech.

“Ho! Massa Brace!” he cried, once more taking the steel from between his teeth. “Swim roun’ to de right. Keep a-gwine in de circle. For de Lord sake, keep ahind me, or you loss fo’ sartin!”

The sailor scarcely needed the counsel. He saw the danger before Snowball had spoken, and had already commenced the movement which the Coromantee was requesting him to make.

Once more the tableau changed. The dramatis persona in their relative positions first formed an isosceles triangle, then a scalene, afterwards a right line. Now all were moving in a circle, or rather in three circles concentric to one another; the sailor, with his charge, revolving round the centre, Snowball in mid radius, while the shark, flanked by his satellites, went gliding along the outer circumference, his lurid eyes glaring continually inward, as if watching for an opportunity to break the line so carefully guarded by the Coromantee!

For full five minutes was this “ring” performance kept up, without any great alteration occurring in the relative positions of the parties. But it was a game in which the outside player had all the advantage; for, although the zygaena had by far the greater distance to traverse, what was but sport to it was fatigue and the danger of drowning to its adversaries.

Had its skull been of a different formation, and filled with a better set of brains, it would have endeavoured to keep up that game, without in the least degree changing the mode of playing it. In due time, its chief antagonist, Snowball, must have cried quarter or gone to the bottom; and far sooner must have sunk the weighted swimmer in his wake.

But sharks, like other creatures both aquatic and terrestrial, have their moments of impatience and anger; and the zygaena, yielding to these passions, common to both piscine and human nature, at length determined to break through the rules of the game, and bring the play to an abrupt termination.

In obedience to this impulse, it suddenly swerved from its circular course, and, heading towards the spot where Ben Brace, with Lilly Lalee clinging to his shoulder, was performing his shorter revolutions, it made a reckless and determined rush for the centre, – equally regardless of the admonition of its brace of monitors and the cold steel of the Coromantee, gleaming clear under the water through which it would have to make its way. So near had it to pass to the negro’s flat nose that its glutinous skin would be almost in contact with his prominent lips, and with his outstretched hand he need have no difficulty in striking his slippery antagonist.

Had Snowball been anticipating this change of tactics, he could not have acted more adroitly, or with greater promptness. As the zygaena was gliding onward, and just as its rough pectoral passed within an inch of his nose, he suddenly returned the knife between his teeth, and, simultaneously using both hands and limbs, he sprang upward in the waiter, and, with a vigorous effort, launched himself on its back!

In the next instant he was seen, – or might have been seen, – with one hand, the left, firmly grasping the bony protuberance of the zygaena’s left eye, his muscular fingers deeply imbedded in the socket, while his right, clutching the long knife, was inflicting a series of stabs against the side of his adversary, now flashing high in the air, now gleaming under water, going up and down with all the measured regularity of a trip-hammer.

When it pleased the Coromantee to dismount from his slippery saddle, the zygaena floated by his side, – a carcass stained with its own blood, that for fathoms around encrimsoned the azure waters of the ocean!

Chapter Thirty Three.

The Chase of the Catamaran

As we have said, little William, standing near the stern of the Catamaran, had watched the spectacle with suspended breath. It was only after seeing the zygaena float lifeless on the water, and becoming satisfied that Snowball had come out of the struggle safe as well as victorious, that the boy gave utterance to a shout. Then, unable longer to restrain himself, he raised a cry of joyful exultation.

It was neither prolonged nor repeated. It had scarce passed his lips, ere it was succeeded by another of very different import. This was the very opposite to a shout of joy: rather was it a cry of consternation. That little drama of the ocean, of which he had been the sole spectator, was not yet over. There was another act to come of equally thrilling interest with that just ended, – an act in which he himself would be called upon to play an important part along with the others.

It had already commenced; and the wild cry which escaped from the lips of the sailor-lad announced his first perception of the new phase into which the drama had entered.

Absorbed in the contemplation of the combat between Snowball and the shark, he had hitherto remained unobservant of a circumstance of the most alarming character, – one that threatened not only the destruction of the Coromantee, but Ben Brace as well, and Lilly Lalee, and in time little William himself, – in short, of the whole party.

The lives of all were at that moment in the hands of the sailor-lad, or if not in his hands, then were all of them doomed to certain destruction.