Jim Hartley, diver, had an adventure of another kind under the sea. A vessel had sunk off Honolulu, and Hartley, who was stranded at the island after roving around a bit, undertook to explore the wreck if a diving suit could be found. The island was ransacked and a suit found, whereupon Hartley donned it, and rowed out in a small sloop with one man to help him. The people on the shore had told him to beware of sharks, and Hartley took with him a large knife—and it was a good job he did! The first time he went down he couldn’t do much good, because he landed amongst a lot of sharp rocks which threatened to cut his airpipe; so he went up again, and ventured down on the next good tide. This time he lighted on the sunken ship, which had a big hole in her port bow. Thinking he would inspect the other side Hartley started to go round, when there was a swirl of water, a sudden darkening, and a jerk at the signal line and air pipe.
Instinctively Hartley knew that a big fish had fouled him, and thoughts of sharks entered his mind. Looking up through the now cloudy water, he saw a huge shark. Presence of mind is the great thing for a diver to possess, and Hartley had it. Quick as lightning he dropped on to his back and lay there, waiting for the shark to come, knowing that in that position he had a better chance if it came to a fight than he would have if he stood upright. His great fear was that the shark might cut the air-hose, and that if the man in the sloop caught sight of the shark he might begin to haul up. In that case, the diver knew that he would be at the mercy of the great fish, which would swoop down upon him as he was going up, and while he had no leverage for his feet.
Fortunately the man in the sloop did not see the shark, and Hartley, lying there on his back, with his large knife held in his right hand, waited—anxiously, watchfully—wondering what the shark would do. As though playing with its prey the huge fish swam back a few yards, then forward again, and this time it was lower down, and so nearer to the supine man, who expected that every minute the shark would swoop down upon him. But no; back it went again, only to swim forward once more until it was three feet above him.
This was Hartley’s opportunity; he knew that if the shark hauled off again, the next time it would come right on to him, and then——Hartley took opportunity by the forelock; he rose from his back, and, with a terrific lunge, thrust his knife at the shark. Instantly the water was dyed red, the great tail lashed the water angrily and caught Hartley a terrific thwack, which sent him headlong to the ground again. The water was now so thick that it was impossible to see anything, and life depended on being able to find the signal line. Groping about in the dark, by great good luck the diver caught the rope, gave it a sharp tug that told the man above to haul away, and up went Hartley, nervous until he reached the surface lest the blow he had given the shark had not been sufficient to give it its quietus. However, all was well, and in due course the diver was able to go down again and complete his work.
A more terrifying fight with a shark was that which a diver once had in a diving bell. In this case the diver sat on a small seat suspended in the bell, which slowly descended into the water. To the horror of the diver, when the bell rested on the bottom forty feet down, he discovered that he had a companion—a shark! The great fish darted hither and thither about the bell, and a whisk of its tail knocked the diver off his seat. Quick as lightning the man scrambled to his place again and sat there, a hopeless prisoner, with the tiger of the seas almost brushing against him as it swooped around the bell, seeking to find a way out of the prison. It grew angrier and angrier every moment, and the diver knew that it would soon turn upon him unless he could manage to kill it at once. Round and round the bell went the maddened fish; silent, anxious, the diver waited for his chance; and as the shark drew near to him, he made a sudden grab at its dorsal fin with one hand, and with the other drove a sharp tool into the gleaming side.
It was but the beginning of things. The blow seemed to make the shark more angry than ever; and the blood-red water was lashed to a fury as the fish turned and swept down upon the man, seeking to catch him in its capacious maw. How he held on to his seat the diver never knew, but he did so; and every time the shark dashed near him he stabbed at it viciously with the tool. It was, indeed, a duel to the death, this fight between the stabbing man and the flashing fish. The diver, who had given the signal to be hoisted up, prayed that the men above would not take long, for he was becoming weary of the struggle. His arms were aching, his head was swimming, and, despite all his pluck, there was the haunting dread that the giant fish might be victorious. Luckily for the man the shark was also weakened, though even in its death agonies it made attacks upon the diver, who was presently gladdened at the sight of daylight and the ship. Quickly the crew had the bell aboard, and before their eyes was a strange sight: a dying shark, in death-travail, lashing its tail on the deck, and a man, faint, weary, nauseated, who dropped beside the victim.
Here is another picture of a man’s adventure among sharks. A cattle ship had been wrecked. A diver went below to overhaul it, and found that a school of sharks had got there before him, attracted by the smell of the feast they nosed about after. Laying a charge and blowing off the hatches, the diver saw the carcasses of the cattle rise from the hold, to be attacked immediately by the hungry sharks which swarmed about him. There were two alternatives open to him: either to remain below and risk having his airpipe severed, or to go up and risk being attacked as he went. He chose the latter as being the lesser of two evils. So the signal was given; the men above began to haul him up. As he went he had to pass through the school of voracious fish, some of which turned their attention away from the dead cattle to the living man. Swinging from this side to that as he was attacked, the diver managed to ward off the tigers of the deep, and, by a very miracle, reached the surface with no more hurt than an injured hand.
“Swinging from this side to that as he was attacked, the diver managed to ward off the tigers of the deep”