Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator Part 7
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"The young fool," growled one of the pa.s.sengers, "hasn't he got any more sense than to do a thing like that? Those sharks are likely to show up any minute. They don't usually give up so quickly, once they've started to follow a s.h.i.+p."
It seemed, however, as though Ralph would experience no bad results from his rash act. He had swum several hundred yards from the vessel, and had turned to come back, when a cry went up from one of the women pa.s.sengers.
"Look! Look!" she screamed, and pointed wildly with her parasol. All eyes followed its direction, and more than one man turned white as he looked. For there, not more than five hundred feet from the swimmer, a black fin was cutting the water like a knife-blade. It was not headed directly for Ralph, however, but was going first in one direction, then in another, showing that the shark had not yet definitely located his prey.
A few seconds later a second fin appeared, and there was little doubt in the minds of all that these were the two sharks that had followed the s.h.i.+p for the last few days.
In the meantime, Ralph had drawn nearer the s.h.i.+p, but was swimming in a leisurely fas.h.i.+on, and evidently had no inkling of the deadly peril that threatened him. Bert was about to yell to him and point out his danger, when he thought better of it.
"If he knew those two sharks were on his trail," he said in a strained voice to Tom, "he might get frightened and be unable to swim at all. I think we had better leave him alone and hope that he gets to the s.h.i.+p before the sharks locate him."
"Let's go after him in a boat," suggested one of the sailors, excitedly, and this was no sooner said than done. Without even waiting for orders from the captain, several of the crew started to launch a boat, but it became evident that this could be of no avail. For at that moment the two searching fins suddenly stopped dead for a second, and then started straight for the unconscious swimmer.
A cry went up from the pa.s.sengers, which reached Ralph's ears. He glanced behind him, and for a second seemed paralyzed at what he saw.
Bert yelled wildly. "Swim for your life, Ralph," he shrieked. "Here,"
turning to the sailors, "get a long rope, and stand by. We'll need it when he gets near the s.h.i.+p."
Now Ralph had recovered from his panic to some extent, and struck out as he had never done before. At every stroke he fairly leaped through the water, but the two black fins overhauled him with lightning-like rapidity. Closer and closer they came, and still the swimmer was a good forty or fifty yards from the s.h.i.+p. Now he started a fast crawl stroke, and it was a lucky thing for him that day that he was an expert swimmer.
He was soon almost under the s.h.i.+p's side, and one of the sailors threw the rope previously secured in his direction. Ralph grasped it with a despairing grip, but now the two fins were terribly close, and approaching at express train speed. A dozen willing hands grasped the rope, and just as the two man-eaters were within ten feet of him the exhausted swimmer was swung bodily out of the water. There was a swish alongside, two great white streaks flashed by, and the pa.s.sengers caught a glimpse of two horrible, saw-like rows of gleaming teeth. Then Ralph was drawn up on a level with the rail, and strong hands pulled him safely inboard.
No sooner did he realize that he was safe, than he collapsed, and it was some time before he recovered from the strain. When he was once more himself, he grinned weakly at Bert. "Next time I'll follow your advice,"
he said.
"Oh, well, 'all's well that ends well,'" quoted Bert. "Just the same, it was more than you deserved to have us work ourselves to death a hot day like this trying to keep you from doing the Jonah act. It would have served you right if we had let the shark take a bite or two."
"Sorry to have troubled you, I'm sure," retorted Ralph. "But say, fellows, just as soon as I can get enough nerve back to think, I'm going to dope out some way of getting even with those man-eaters. I'll be hanged if I'm going to let even a shark think he can try to make hash of me and get away with it. In the meantime, you and Tom might set your giant intellects to work and see if you can think of a plan."
A sailor had overheard this, and now he touched his cap, and said:
"Excuse me for b.u.t.tin' in, but I think me and my mates here can fix up those sharks for you, if the captain's willin'. On a bark I sailed in once we caught a shark that had been annoyin' us like these has, just like you'd catch a fish. We baited a big hook, and pulled him in with the donkey engine. If the captain ain't got no objections, I don't see why we couldn's sarve these lubbers the same trick."
This idea met with instant approval, and Captain Manning was soon besieged by a fire of entreaty. At first he seemed inclined to say no, but when he found that the majority of the pa.s.sengers were in favor of capturing the sharks, he gave a reluctant consent.
The sailors grinned in happy antic.i.p.ation of a good time, and set about their preparations with a will, while an interested group that surrounded them watched the development of their scheme with intense interest.
CHAPTER VIII
THE CAPTURED SHARK
The species of shark that inhabits tropical waters is very voracious, and will eat almost anything that has the smell or taste of food about it. Therefore, the sailors were troubled by no fears that the bait they were preparing would not prove tempting enough.
The cook had provided them with a huge slab of salt pork, and then the problem arose as to what they could use as a hook. Finally, however, one of the sailors unearthed a large iron hook, such as is used on cranes and other hoisting machinery. The point of this was filed down until it was sharp as a needle, and the big piece of meat was impaled on it.
"That ought to hook one of them blarsted man-hunters," remarked one grizzled old sea dog, who was known to his companions as "Sam," and apparently had no other name. "If that hook once gets caught in his gizzard, we'll have him on board unless the rope breaks, won't we mates?"
"Aye, aye. That we will," came in a gruff chorus from the bronzed and hardy crew, and matters began to look dark for the unconscious sharks.
When the meat had been securely tied to the hook, the big crane used to store the cargo in the hold was brought into use, and the hook made fast to the end of the strong wire cable.
"Gee," said Tom, who had been regarding these preparations with a good deal of interest, as indeed had everybody on deck, "I begin to see the finish of one of those beasts, anyway. I can see where we have shark meat hash for the rest of this voyage, if the cook ever gets hold of him."
"Oh, they're not such bad eating, at that," said Ralph. "Why, when once in a while one becomes stranded on the beach and the natives get hold of him, they have a regular feast day. Everybody for miles around is notified, and they troop to the scene of festivities by the dozen. Then they build fires, cut up the shark, and make a bluff at cooking the meat before they start to eat it. But you can hardly call it eating. They fairly gorge it, and sometimes eat steadily a whole day, or at any rate until the shark is all gone but his bones. Then they go to bed and sleep off the results of their feed. They don't need anything else to eat for some days."
"Heavens, I shouldn't think they would, after that," laughed Bert. "I think if I ate a whole day without stopping it would end my worldly career at once. Subsequent events wouldn't have much interest for me."
"Oh, well," said d.i.c.k, in a whimsical tone, "I suppose they think if they did die, they would at least have died happy."
"And full," supplemented Bert.
"Oh, that's the same thing with them," laughed Ralph. "That's their idea of paradise, I guess. They're always happy when they have enough to eat, anyway."
"Well, that's the way with all of us, isn't it?" asked d.i.c.k. "You're never very happy when you're hungry, I know that."
"But there's a shark not very far from here that's not going to be very happy when he's eaten a square meal that we're going to provide him,"
laughed Bert, and the others agreed with him.
By this time everything was ready for the catching of at least one of the sharks, and steam was turned into the engine operating the crane.
The machine proved to be in first-cla.s.s condition, and so the baited hook was carried to the side and slowly eased into the water. An empty cask had previously been tied to it, however, to act as a float, and all eyes were fastened eagerly on this. It drifted slowly away from the s.h.i.+p's side, as the cable was paid out, and was checked when it had reached a distance of perhaps a hundred and fifty feet from the vessel.
The sailors had armed themselves with axes and clubs, and waited expectantly for the disturbance around the cask that would show when the monster had been hooked.
For some time, however, the cask floated serenely, without even a ripple disturbing it. Many were the disappointed grumblings heard among pa.s.sengers and crew, but the confidence of old Sam was not shaken.
"Give him time, give him time!" he exclaimed. "You don't expect him to come up and swally the bait right on scratch, like as though he was paid to do it, do ye? Have a little patience about ye, why don't ye? Bein'
disappointed in takin' a nip out of the lad, there, them sharks will hang around, hoping for another chanst, never fear. Time ain't money with them fellers."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the cask disappeared in a whirl of foam, and a cheer arose from the spectators. The steel cable whipped up out of the water, and sprang taut as a fiddle string. The big crane groaned as the terrific strain came upon it.
"Say, but that must be a big fellow," exclaimed Bert, in an excited voice. "Just look at that cable, will you. It takes some pull to straighten it out like that."
But now the shark, seeming to realize that he could not get away by pulling in one direction, suddenly ceased his efforts, and the cable slackened. Captain Manning gave the signal to the engineer to start winding in the cable, but hardly had the drum of the crane started to revolve, when the shark made a great circular sweep in a line almost parallel with the s.h.i.+p. The cable sang as it whipped through the water in a great arc, and the whole s.h.i.+p vibrated to the terrific strain.
But the great fish was powerless against the invincible strength of steam, and was slowly drawn to the s.h.i.+p as revolution after revolution of the inexorable engine drew in the cable. Leaning breathlessly over the side, the pa.s.sengers and crew could gradually make out the shape of the struggling, las.h.i.+ng monster as he was drawn up to the s.h.i.+p's side.
He made short dashes this way and that in a desperate effort to break away, but all to no purpose. When he was right under the s.h.i.+p's side, but still in the water, the captain ordered the engine stopped, and requested the pa.s.sengers to retire to a safe distance. Bert, d.i.c.k, and Ralph pleaded hard to be allowed to take a hand in dispatching the monster, but Captain Manning was inexorable, and they were forced to withdraw from the scene of the coming struggle.
The crew grasped their weapons firmly, and as one put it, "cleared for action."
Then the signal was given to resume hoisting the big fish aboard, and once more the crane started winding up the cable. Slowly, writhing and twisting, the shark was hauled up the side. He dealt the s.h.i.+p great blows with his tail, any one of which would have been sufficient to kill a man. His smooth, wet body gleamed in the sun's rays, and his wicked jaws snapped viciously, reminding the spectators of the teeth of some great trap. All his struggles were in vain, however, and finally, with one great "flop" he landed on the deck.
He lashed out viciously with his powerful tail, and it would have been an ill day for any member of the crew that inadvertently got in its path. Needless to say, they were very careful to avoid this, and dodged quickly in and out, dealing the monster heavy blows whenever the opportunity offered. Slowly his struggles grew less strong, and at last he lay quite still, with only an occasional quiver of his great carca.s.s.
Then old Sam stepped quickly in, and delivered the "coup de grace" in the form of a stunning blow at the base of the shark's skull.
This was the finis.h.i.+ng blow, and soon the pa.s.sengers were allowed to gather around and inspect the dead monster. A tape-measure was produced, and it was found that the shark was exactly twelve feet and seven inches long.
Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator Part 7
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Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator Part 7 summary
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