The Ocean Waifs: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea. Reid Mayne
the other un?”
“Gone out that way,” answered the boy, pointing in the direction taken by the second and smaller of the two sharks. “He whipped the handspike out of my hands, and he’s craunched it to fragments. See! there are some of the pieces floating on the water!”
“Lucky you let go, lad; else he might ha’ pulled you from the raft. I don’t think he’ll come back again after the reception we’ve gi’ed ’em. As for the other, it’s gone out o’ its senses. Dash my buttons, if’t ain’t goin’ to sink! Ha! I must hinder that. Quick, Will’m, shy me that piece o’ sennit: we must secure him ’fore he gives clean up and goes to the bottom. Talk o’ catching fish wi’ hook an’ line! Aha! This beats all your small fry. If we can secure it, we’ll have fish enough to last us through the longest Lent. There now! keep on the other edge of the craft so as to balance me. So-so!”
While the sailor was giving these directions, he was busy with both hands in forming a running-noose on one end of the sennit-cord, which William on the instant had handed over to him. It was but the work of a moment to make the noose; another to let it down into the water; a third to pass it over the upper jaw of the shark; a fourth to draw it taut, and tighten the cord around the creature’s teeth. The next thing done was to secure the other end of the sennit to the upright oar; and the carcass of the shark was thus kept afloat near the surface of the water.
To guard against a possible chance of the creature’s recovery, Ben once more laid hold of the axe; and, leaning over the edge of the raft, administered a series of smart blows upon its snout. He continued hacking away, until the upper jaw of the fish exhibited the appearance of a butcher’s chopping-block; and there was no longer any doubt of the creature being as “dead as a herring.”
“Now, Will’m,” said the shark-killer, “this time we’ve got a fish that’ll gi’e us a fill, lad. Have a little patience, and I’ll cut ye a steak from the tenderest part o’ his body; and that’s just forrard o’ the tail. You take hold o’ the sinnet, an’ pull him up a bit, – so as I can get at him.”
The boy did as directed; and Ben, once more bending over the edge of the raft, caught hold of one of the caudal fins, and with his knife detached a large flake from the flank of the fish, – enough to make an ample meal for both of them.
It is superfluous to say that, like the little flying-fish, the shark-meat had to be eaten raw; but to men upon the verge of starvation there is no inconvenience in this. Indeed, there are many tribes of South-Sea Islanders – not such savage either – who habitually eat the flesh of the shark – both the blue and white species – without thinking it necessary even to warm it over a fire! Neither did the castaway English sailor nor his young comrade think it necessary. Even had a fire been possible, they were too hungry to have stayed for the process of cooking; and both, without more ado, dined upon raw shark-meat.
When they had succeeded in satisfying the cravings of hunger, and once more refreshed themselves with a draught from their extemporised water-bag, the castaways not only felt a relief from actual suffering, but a sort of cheerful confidence in the future. This arose from a conviction on their part, or at all events a strong impression, that the hand of Providence had been stretched out to their assistance. The flying-fish, the shower, the shark may have been accidents, it is true; but, occurring at such a time, just in the very crisis of their affliction, they were accidents that had the appearance of design, – design on the part of Him to whom in that solemn hour they had uplifted their voices in prayer.
It was under this impression that their spirits became naturally restored; and once more they began to take counsel together about the ways and means of prolonging their existence.
It is true that their situation was still desperate. Should a storm spring up, – even an ordinary gale, – not only would their canvas water-cask be bilged, and its contents spilled out to mingle with the briny billow, but their frail embarkation would be in danger of going to pieces, or of being whelmed fathoms deep under the frothing waves. In a high latitude, either north or south, their chance of keeping afloat would have been slight indeed. A week, or rather only a single day, would have been as long as they could have expected that calm to continue; and the experienced sailor knew well enough that anything in the shape of a storm would expose them to certain destruction. To console him for this unpleasant knowledge, however, he also knew that in the ocean, where they were then afloat, storms are exceedingly rare, and that ships are often in greater danger from the very opposite state of the atmosphere, – from calms. They were in that part of the Atlantic Ocean known among the early Spanish navigators as the Horse Latitudes, – so-called because the horses at that time being carried across to the New World, for want of water in the becalmed ships, died in great numbers, and being thrown overboard were often seen floating upon the surface of the sea.
A prettier and more poetical name have these same Spaniards given to a portion of the same Atlantic Ocean, – which, from the gentleness of its breezes, they have styled “La Mar de las Damas” (the Ladies’ Sea).
Ben Brace knew that in the Horse Latitudes storms were of rare occurrence; and hence the hopefulness with which he was now looking forward to the future.
He was no longer inactive. If he believed in the special Interference of Providence, he also believed that Providence would expect him to make some exertion of himself, – such as circumstances might permit and require.
Chapter Twelve.
Flensing a Shark
The flesh of the shark, and the stock of water so singularly obtained and so deftly stored away, might, if properly kept and carefully used, last them for many days; and to the preservation of these stores the thoughts of the sailor and his young companion were now specially directed.
For the former they could do nothing more than had been already done, – further than to cover the tarpauling that contained it with several folds of the spare sail-cloth, in order that no ray of the sun should get near it. This precaution was at once adopted.
The flesh of the shark – now dead as mutton – if left to itself, would soon spoil, and be unfit for food, even for starving men. It was this reflection that caused the sailor and his protégé to take counsel together as to what might be done towards preserving it.
They were not long in coming to a decision. Shark-flesh, like that of any other fish – like haddock, for instance, or red herrings – can be dried in the sun; and the more readily in that sun of the torrid zone that shone down so hotly upon their heads. The flesh only needed to be cut into thin slices and suspended from the upright oars. The atmosphere would soon do the rest. Thus cured, it would keep for weeks or months; and thus did the castaways determine to cure it.
No sooner was the plan conceived, than they entered upon its execution. Little William again seized the cord of sennit, and drew the huge carcass close up to the raft; while Ben once more opened the blade of his sailor’s knife, and commenced cutting off the flesh in broad flakes, – so thin as to be almost transparent.
He had succeeded in stripping off most of the titbits around the tail, and was proceeding up the body of the shark to flense it in a similar fashion, when an ejaculation escaped him, expressing surprise or pleasant curiosity.
Little William was but too glad to perceive the pleased expression on the countenance of his companion, – of late so rarely seen.
“What is it, Ben?” he inquired, smilingly.
“Look ’ee theer, lad,” rejoined the sailor, placing his hand upon the back of the boy’s head, and pressing it close to the edge of the raft, so that he could see well down into the water, – “look theer, and tell me what you see.”
“Where?” asked William, still ignorant of the object to which his attention was thus forcibly directed.
“Don’t you see somethin’ queery stickin’ to the belly of the shark, – eh, lad?”
“As I live,” rejoined William, now perceiving “somethin’”, “there’s a small fish pushing his head against the shark, – not so small either, – only in comparison with the