“And big ones?” asked Jack eagerly.
“I don’t say that, my lad,” replied the captain. “There’s a pretty good big one there though.”
“What, that?” cried Jack. “Three or four feet long.”
“Nearer eight when he is out of the water.”
“Would they take a bait?”
“Doubtful. But I would not try. Those things can bite, and, as I said, I’ve known cases out in the Indian Ocean where men have died from their bites. They’re best dealt with from a distance. Why don’t you shoot one for a curiosity? You could keep it in spirits.”
“Ah, why not?” said the doctor; and he ran below, to return directly with a double gun and some cartridges, a couple of which he inserted at the breech.
Sir John looked at his friend inquiringly.
“There you are,” said the doctor, handing the gun to Jack. “I’d rest the barrels on the rails as we’re rolling a little. Then take a good aim as we’re rising, not as we’re going down, and fire as if you wanted the shot to go under its head.”
Jack hesitated, and shrank a little, but mastering his feeling of trepidation, he took the gun, and rested the barrels on the rail.