Jim spoke first: "Close as they make 'em! I'm glad that's over!"
Percy agreed with all his heart. Jim had discovered that the tub was becoming a bit shaky, so he reinforced the lanyard, and strengthened the bottom by binding it with ground-line. Before long it was towing again in front of the bow, as good as new.
Hours passed, but the intensity of the gale did not slacken. The sea was frightfully rough. It kept the boys bailing continually.
Dawn broke at last. On the eastern horizon grew a pale light, against which the ragged, savagely leaping crests were silhouetted weirdly. It brightened to a crimson glow, and soon the sun was shooting its fiery arrows across the heaving, glittering waste.
The forenoon wore slowly on as they drifted steadily south. The water around the dory was alive with whirlpools. Gigantic green seas rushed down as if to overwhelm her, but she flirted her bow aloft and rode them stanchly.
Percy, glancing to starboard, saw a black fin cutting the slope of a watery ridge.
"Shark, Jim?"
"Yes. And there's another to port. They're looking for trouble. They'll stick by till we're out of this scrape or in a worse one."
He was right. The sun reached its zenith and began to descend, but still the black fins wove their ceaseless circles round the boat.
Jim had been scanning the sea, hand over his eyes.