CHAPTER IV
THE INDIAN SHARK-KILLER
Other voices blended with that of the skipper. The two sailors in the water were screeching as loud as they could, though in no apparent peril, since they had not followed Ballyhoo far from the side of the boat.
Both Jack and Oscar were thrilled with a sudden fear. Now they could see a second sharp-pointed fin zigzagging through the waters. From the excited manner in which the sharks were swimming, first this way and then that, it seemed as though some instinct must have told them there was a chance to secure a dinner. Oscar was forcibly reminded of the mysterious way in which those carrion birds away over there in Africa would appear high in the heavens almost as soon as game had been brought down, as though their wonderful sense of smell, or some strange instinct, told them of the feast that was preparing.
Ballyhoo was no longer lying there floating on his back. The sturdy shout of the captain through the megaphone had reached him as clear as a bell. It was enough to put activity into the boldest swimmer’s frame; and so Ballyhoo started at full speed in the direction of the submarine.
Oscar vanished down the ladder leading into the conning tower, as though he had conceived some project that might help in case of desperate need. Jack, like the captain, could only stand there and stare. All at once the instinct came to him to turn his camera on the scene. Perhaps it was mechanically that the boy commenced to turn the crank, hardly knowing what he was doing, save that the artist spirit in him was being appealed to by the dramatic nature of the event.
Although Ballyhoo was working his arms like flails, and making prize time in cutting through the water, those monsters of the deep could swim twice as fast as a mere human being at his best.
Now it seemed as though they must have found the right scent at last. They were coming on in a direct line for the struggling boy. The sound of his arms beating the water into foam as he fought his way onward may have attracted them; but no matter from what cause, both sharks were speeding directly to the spot.
“Faster, lad, faster! they’re after you!” roared the captain, himself horror-stricken at the prospect of a sea tragedy.
If anything could cause Ballyhoo to put new vigor into his frantic strokes, it was that urgent appeal. But even though he may have added to his speed it was but a matter of fractions, and could not enter into the result at all.
Just then Oscar came shooting out of the little trap in the deck, looking white and peaked. He clutched something in his hands. Jack, even as he continued to grind mechanically away at his machine, saw what it was, and a fresh spasm of hope gripped his aching heart.