Norton, Andre - Novel 08 by Yankee Privateer (v1.0) Page B

             Fogler shook his head gloomily. " 'Tis one o' th' big ones right enough, sir. He'll
spoil any sport for us "
                   "Big ones?" repeated Fitz.
                   "Shark," explained Watts . "And a wary one. He hasn't showed where we might sight him "
                   "Fishing,
gentlemen?" Croft came across the deck. "Well, we can use the
fresh meat. The storm found out the storeroom and we're the poorer for several
casks of meat as well as for the livestock which went overboard when a gust
ripped off the gig."
                   "We'll have no luck this morning,
sir," Watts held up the bitten line. "A shark's
taking bait and hook "
                   "Is he?" The Captain examined the
line and then peered over the rail. "Aye," his voice went up with
excitement, "there he is now!"
                   All three of the fishermen joined him in an
instant, but it was several seconds before Fitz sighted the dark shadow which
kept effortlessly beside the ship.
                   "Not such a big one after all," was Watts ' first comment. "But we might get a
steak or two off him."
                   "My thought exactly, Dr. Watts.
Sergeant," Crofts turned to Fogler, "ask the carpenter for shark
lines and hooks. And have the boys roll out one of the
small kegs of spoiled pork."
                   "Aye, aye, sir!"
                   "He's a wicked looking beast," Watts observed, "and dangerous."
                   Crofts grinned. "Oh,
aye, as dangerous as a British mail packet, and with almost as many teeth. We'll have to outsmart him just as we outsmart the lobsters at their games. But
he'll be tasty served up with onions! Pass the word for Samkin Jones to stand
by with a harpoon —a whaling man has a true eye for this business."
                   Two of the ship's boys pattered across the
deck, rolling a small keg before them. And with them tramped
two men, one carrying an axe and a handspike, both well sharpened, and the
other, a six-foot Negro, cradling a knife-edged harpoon. Fogler brought
up the rear of the procession, a coil of thick line about his arm and several
giant hooks in his hand. All the men and officers not on duty were gathering at
the rail to point out to each other the skulking shadow below.
                   Under Crofts' orders the cask was opened and
the boys flung chunks of meat overboard. Fitz watched the evil shape rise
silently and almost gracefully, flash a mouth of ugliness, and vanish with the
bait. The shark fed leisurely and without fear for several minutes until the
Captain nodded to Fogler.
                   The sergeant dug one of the vicious hooks into
another lump and pitched it over. The shark took it.
                   Not only took it but fought while Fogler and
the carpenter tried to bring it alongside where the tall harpooner could use
his weapon or the clamoring men could slip another line about the flailing
tail. That was done at last, and they heaved up a second after the noose
slipped into place. But, as the fighting shark broke water, it snapped
partially free, slapping the side of the Retaliation hard enough to stow in
cabin windows and make the whole ship shudder. Cursing, the men tried to put
the rope back. But they were elbowed aside by the harpooner who thrust down
several times while the spectators cheered.
                   "Heave!" The bos'n took a hand on
the line. "Heave, ye blasted, butter-fingered
landlubbers!"
                   They brought the shark up but it was not yet
defeated. Once over the rail, that murderous tail lashed inward, sending them
all flying. The man at the wheel ducked, though he did not desert his post, and
arose again to find two of the spokes shorn cleanly away.
                   An officer sprang to pass Fitz, handspike in
hand, just as the Marylander