CHAPTER VII.

Jack's ingenuity--We get into difficulties about fishing, and get out of

them by a method which gives us a cold bath--Horrible encounter with a

shark.

For several days after the excursion related in the last chapter we did

not wander far from our encampment, but gave ourselves up to forming

plans for the future and making our present abode comfortable.

There were various causes that induced this state of comparative

inaction. In the first place, although everything around us was so

delightful, and we could without difficulty obtain all that we required

for our bodily comfort, we did not quite like the idea of settling down

here for the rest of our lives, far away from our friends and our native

land. To set energetically about preparations for a permanent residence

seemed so like making up our minds to saying adieu to home and friends

for ever, that we tacitly shrank from it and put off our preparations,

for one reason and another, as long as we could. Then there was a little

uncertainty still as to there being natives on the island, and we

entertained a kind of faint hope that a ship might come and take us off.

But as day after day passed, and neither savages nor ships appeared, we

gave up all hope of an early deliverance and set diligently to work at

our homestead.

During this time, however, we had not been altogether idle. We made

several experiments in cooking the cocoa-nut, most of which did not

improve it. Then we removed our goods, and took up our abode in the

cave, but found the change so bad that we returned gladly to the bower.

Besides this we bathed very frequently, and talked a great deal; at least

Jack and Peterkin did,--I listened. Among other useful things, Jack, who

was ever the most active and diligent, converted about three inches of

the hoop-iron into an excellent knife. First he beat it quite flat with

the axe. Then he made a rude handle, and tied the hoop-iron to it with

our piece of whip-cord, and ground it to an edge on a piece of

sand-stone. When it was finished he used it to shape a better handle, to

which he fixed it with a strip of his cotton handkerchief;--in which

operation he had, as Peterkin pointed out, torn off one of Lord Nelson's

noses. However, the whip-cord, thus set free, was used by Peterkin as a

fishing line. He merely tied a piece of oyster to the end of it. This

the fish were allowed to swallow, and then they were pulled quickly

ashore. But as the line was very short and we had no boat, the fish we

caught were exceedingly small.

One day Peterkin came up from the beach, where he had been angling, and

said in a very cross tone, "I'll tell you what, Jack, I'm not going to be

humbugged with catching such contemptible things any longer. I want you

to swim out with me on your back, and let me fish in deep water!"

"Dear me, Peterkin," replied Jack, "I had no idea you were taking the

thing so much to heart, else I would have got you out of that difficulty

long ago. Let me see,"--and Jack looked down at a piece of timber on

which he had been labouring, with a peculiar gaze of abstraction, which

he always assumed when trying to invent or discover anything.

"What say you to building a boat?" he inquired, looking up hastily.

"Take far too long," was the reply; "can't be bothered waiting. I want

to begin at once!"

Again Jack considered. "I have it!" he cried. "We'll fell a large tree

and launch the trunk of it in the water, so that when you want to fish

you've nothing to do but to swim out to it."

"Would not a small raft do better?" said I.

"Much better; but we have no ropes to bind it together with. Perhaps we

may find something hereafter that will do as well, but, in the meantime,

let us try the tree."

This was agreed on, so we started off to a spot not far distant, where we

knew of a tree that would suit us, which grew near the water's edge. As

soon as we reached it Jack threw off his coat, and, wielding the axe with

his sturdy arms, hacked and hewed at it for a quarter of an hour without

stopping. Then he paused, and, while he sat down to rest, I continued

the work. Then Peterkin made a vigorous attack on it, so that when Jack

renewed his powerful blows, a few minutes cutting brought it down with a

terrible crash.

"Hurrah! now for it," cried Jack; "let us off with its head."

So saying he began to cut through the stem again, at about six yards from

the thick end. This done, he cut three strong, short poles or levers

from the stout branches, with which to roll the log down the beach into

the sea; for, as it was nearly two feet thick at the large end, we could

not move it without such helps. With the levers, however, we rolled it

slowly into the sea.

Having been thus successful in launching our vessel, we next shaped the

levers into rude oars or paddles, and then attempted to embark. This was

easy enough to do; but, after seating ourselves astride the log, it was

with the utmost difficulty we kept it from rolling round and plunging us

into the water. Not that we minded that much; but we preferred, if

possible, to fish in dry clothes. To be sure, our trousers were

necessarily wet, as our legs were dangling in the water on each side of

the log; but, as they could be easily dried, we did not care. After half

an hour's practice, we became expert enough to keep our balance pretty

steadily. Then Peterkin laid down his paddle, and having baited his line

with a whole oyster, dropt it into deep water.

"Now, then, Jack," said he, "be cautious; steer clear o' that sea-weed.

There; that's it; gently, now, gently. I see a fellow at least a foot

long down there, coming to--ha! that's it! Oh! bother, he's off."

"Did he bite?" said Jack, urging the log onwards a little with his

paddle.

"Bite? ay! He took it into his mouth, but the moment I began to haul he

opened his jaws and let it out again."

"Let him swallow it next time," said Jack, laughing at the melancholy

expression of Peterkin's visage.

"There he's again," cried Peterkin, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Look out! Now then! No! Yes! No! Why, the brute _won't_ swallow

it!"

"Try to haul him up by the mouth, then," cried Jack. "Do it gently."

A heavy sigh and a look of blank despair showed that poor Peterkin had

tried and failed again.

"Never mind, lad," said Jack, in a voice of sympathy; "we'll move on, and

offer it to some other fish." So saying, Jack plied his paddle; but

scarcely had he moved from the spot, when a fish with an enormous head

and a little body darted from under a rock and swallowed the bait at

once.

"Got him this time,--that's a fact!" cried Peterkin, hauling in the line.

"He's swallowed the bait right down to his tail, I declare. Oh what a

thumper!"

As the fish came struggling to the surface, we leaned forward to see it,

and overbalanced the log. Peterkin threw his arms round the fish's neck;

and, in another instant, we were all floundering in the water!

A shout of laughter burst from us as we rose to the surface like three

drowned rats, and seized hold of the log. We soon recovered our

position, and sat more warily, while Peterkin secured the fish, which had

well-nigh escaped in the midst of our struggles. It was little worth

having, however; but, as Peterkin remarked, it was better than the smouts

he had been catching for the last two or three days; so we laid it on the

log before us, and having re-baited the line, dropt it in again for

another.

Now, while we were thus intent upon our sport, our attention was suddenly

attracted by a ripple on the sea, just a few yards away from us. Peterkin

shouted to us to paddle in that direction, as he thought it was a big

fish, and we might have a chance of catching it. But Jack, instead of

complying, said, in a deep, earnest tone of voice, which I never before

heard him use,--

"Haul up your line, Peterkin; seize your paddle; quick,--it's a shark!"

The horror with which we heard this may well be imagined, for it must be

remembered that our legs were hanging down in the water, and we could not

venture to pull them up without upsetting the log. Peterkin instantly

hauled up the line; and, grasping his paddle, exerted himself to the

utmost, while we also did our best to make for shore. But we were a good

way off, and the log being, as I have before said, very heavy, moved but

slowly through the water. We now saw the shark quite distinctly swimming

round and round us, its sharp fin every now and then protruding above the

water. From its active and unsteady motions, Jack knew it was making up

its mind to attack us, so he urged us vehemently to paddle for our lives,

while he himself set us the example. Suddenly he shouted "Look

out!--there he comes!" and in a second we saw the monstrous fish dive

close under us, and turn half over on his side. But we all made a great

commotion with our paddles, which no doubt frightened it away for that

time, as we saw it immediately after circling round us as before.

"Throw the fish to him," cried Jack, in a quick, suppressed voice; "we'll

make the shore in time yet if we can keep him off for a few minutes."

Peterkin stopped one instant to obey the command, and then plied his

paddle again with all his might. No sooner had the fish fallen on the

water than we observed the shark to sink. In another second we saw its

white breast rising; for sharks always turn over on their sides when

about to seize their prey, their mouths being not at the point of their

heads like those of other fish, but, as it were, under their chins. In

another moment his snout rose above the water,--his wide jaws, armed with

a terrific double row of teeth, appeared. The dead fish was engulfed,

and the shark sank out of sight. But Jack was mistaken in supposing that

it would be satisfied. In a very few minutes it returned to us, and its

quick motions led us to fear that it would attack us at once.

"Stop paddling," cried Jack suddenly. "I see it coming up behind us.

Now, obey my orders quickly. Our lives may depend on it Ralph. Peterkin,

do your best to _balance the log_. Don't look out for the shark. Don't

glance behind you. Do nothing but balance the log."

{A dreadful adventure: p77.jpg}

Peterkin and I instantly did as we were ordered, being only too glad to

do anything that afforded us a chance or a hope of escape, for we had

implicit confidence in Jack's courage and wisdom. For a few seconds,

that seemed long minutes to my mind, we sat thus silently; but I could

not resist glancing backward, despite the orders to the contrary. On

doing so, I saw Jack sitting rigid like a statue, with his paddle raised,

his lips compressed, and his eye-brows bent over his eyes, which glared

savagely from beneath them down into the water. I also saw the shark, to

my horror, quite close under the log, in the act of darting towards

Jack's foot. I could scarce suppress a cry on beholding this. In

another moment the shark rose. Jack drew his leg suddenly from the

water, and threw it over the log. The monster's snout rubbed against the

log as it passed, and revealed its hideous jaws, into which Jack

instantly plunged the paddle, and thrust it down its throat. So violent

was the act that Jack rose to his feet in performing it; the log was

thereby rolled completely over, and we were once more plunged into the

water. We all rose, spluttering and gasping, in a moment.

"Now then, strike out for shore," cried Jack. "Here, Peterkin, catch

hold of my collar, and kick out with a will."

Peterkin did as he was desired, and Jack struck out with such force that

he cut through the water like a boat; while I, being free from all

encumbrance, succeeded in keeping up with him. As we had by this time

drawn pretty near to the shore, a few minutes more sufficed to carry us

into shallow water; and, finally, we landed in safety, though very much

exhausted, and not a little frightened by our terrible adventure.

The Coral Island: A Tale of the Pacific Ocean(#646) · 第 7 / 35 章