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.