JANUARY 15th.--After this further shattering of our excited hopes death
alone now stares us in the face; slow and lingering as that death may
be, sooner or later it must inevitably come.
To-day some clouds that rose in the west have brought us a few puffs
of wind; and in spite of our prostration, we appreciate the moderation,
slight as it is, in the temperature. To my parched throat the air seemed
a little less trying but it is now seven days since the boatswain took
his haul of fish, and during that period we have eaten nothing even
Andre Letourneur finished yesterday the last morsel of the biscuit which
his sorrowful and self-denying father had entrusted to my charge.
Jynxstrop the negro has broken loose from his confinement, but Curtis has
taken no measures for putting him again under restraint. It is not to be
apprehended that the miserable fellow and his accomplices, weakened as
they are by their protracted fast, will attempt to do us any mischief
now.
Some huge sharks made their appearance to-day, cleaving the water
rapidly with their great black fins. The monsters came close up to the
edge of the raft, and Flaypole, who was leaning over, narrowly escaped
having his arm snapped off by one of them. I could not help regarding
them as living sepulchres, which ere long might swallow up our miserable
carcasses; yet, withal, I profess that my feelings were rather those of
fascination than of horror.
The boatswain, who stood with clenched teeth and dilated eye, regarded
these sharks from quite another point of view. He thought about
devouring the sharks, not about the sharks devouring him; and if he
could succeed in catching one, I doubt if one of us would reject the
tough and untempting flesh. He determined to make the attempt, and as
he had no whirl which he could fasten to his rope he set to work to
find something that might serve as a substitute. Curtis and Dowlas
were consulted, and after a short conversation, during which they kept
throwing bits of rope and spars into the water in order to entice the
sharks to remain by the raft, Dowlas went and fetched his carpenter’s
tool, which is at once a hatchet and a hammer. Of this he proposed to
make the whirl of which they were in need, under the hope that either
the sharp edge of the adze or the pointed extremity opposite would stick
firmly into the jaws of any shark that might swallow it. The wooden
handle of the hammer was secured to the rope, which, in its turn, was
tightly fastened to the raft.
With eager, almost breathless, excitement we stood watching the
preparations, at the same time using every means in our power to
attract the attention of the sharks. As soon as the whirl was ready the
boatswain began to think about bait; and, talking rapidly to himself,
ransacked every corner of the raft, as though he expected to find some
dead body coming opportunely to sight. But his search ended in nothing;
and the only plan that suggested itself was again to have recourse to
Miss Herbey’s red shawl, of which a fragment was wrapped round the
head of the hammer. After testing the strength of his line, and
reassuring-himself that it was fastened firmly both to the hammer and to
the raft, the boatswain lowered it into the water.
The sea was quite transparent, and any object was clearly visible to
a depth of two hundred feet below the surface. Leaning over the low
parapet of the raft we looked on in breathless silence, as the scarlet
rag, distinct as it was against the blue mass of water, made its slow
descent. But one by one the sharks seemed to disappear, They could not,
however, have gone far away, and it was not likely that anything in the
shape of bait dropped near them would long escape their keen voracity.
Suddenly, without speaking, the boatswain raised his hand and pointed to
a dark mass skimming along the surface of the water, and making straight
in our direction. It was a shark, certainly not less than twelve feet
long. As soon as the creature was about four fathoms from the raft, the
boatswain gently drew in his line until the whirl was in such a position
that the shark must cross right over it; at the same time he shook the
line a little, that he might give the whirl the appearance, if he could,
of being something alive and moving. As the creature came near, my heart
beat violently; I could see its eyes flashing above the waves; and its
gaping jaws, as it turned half over on its back, exhibited long rows of
pointed teeth.
I know not who it was, but some one at that moment uttered an
involuntary cry of horror. The shark came to a standstill, turned about,
and escaped quite out of sight. The boatswain was pale with anger.
“The first man who speaks,” he said, “I will kill him on the spot.”
Again he applied himself to his task. The whirl again was lowered, this
time to the depth of twenty fathoms, but for half an hour or more not a
shark could be distinguished; but as the waters far below seemed somehow
to be troubled I could not help believing that some of the brutes at
least were still there.
All at once, with a violent jerk, the cord was wrested from the
boatswain’s hands; firmly attached, however, as it was to the raft, it
was not lost. The bait had been seized by a shark, and the iron had made
good its hold upon the creature’s flesh.
“Now, then, my lads,” cried the boatswain, “haul away!”
Passengers and sailors, one and all, put forth what strength they had
to drag the rope, but so violent were the creature’s struggles that
it required all our efforts (and it is needless to say that they were
willing enough) to bring it to the surface, At length, after exertions
that almost exhausted us, the water became agitated by the violent
flappings of the tail and fins; and looking down I saw the huge carcase
of the shark writhing convulsively amidst waves that were stained with
blood.
“Steady! steady!” said the boatswain, as the head appeared above.
The whirl had passed right through the jaw into the middle of the
throat; so that no struggle on the part of the animal could possibly
release it. Dowlas seized his hatchet, ready to despatch the brute the
moment if should be landed on the raft. A short sharp snap was heard.
The shark had closed its jaws, and bitten through the wooden handle of
the hammer. Another moment and it had turned round and was completely
gone.
A howl of despair burst from all our lips. All the labour and the
patience, all had been in vain. Dowlas made a few more unsuccessful
attempts, but as the whirl was lost, and they had no means of replacing
it, there was no further room for hope. They did, indeed, lower some
cords twisted into running knots, but (as might have been expected)
these only slipped over, without holding, the slimy bodies of the
sharks. As a last resource the boatswain allowed his naked leg to
hang over the side of the raft; the monsters, however, were proof even
against this attraction.
Reduced once again to a gloomy despondency, all turned to their places,
to await the end that cannot now be long deferred.
Just as I moved away I heard the boatswain say to Curtis,--
“Captain, when shall we draw lots?”
The captain made no reply.