“To harpoon?” said the mate.
“No, no, you do that; I’ll lance. And I flatter myself that if I have as good a chance as Jack here, I can perform that feat more artistically, and kill the monster at the first stroke.”
“Let’s see,” said Jack, laughing.
The opportunity soon came, for the blood in the water seemed to have excited the other sharks, one of which, on the same tactics being carried out, soon became fast on to the line; the harpoon held, and after it had towed them about a bit it was brought alongside.
“Now’s your time, sir,” cried the mate, and the doctor delivered a quick thrust, and, to Jack’s great delight, missed entirely.
“Well, that’s curious,” said the doctor; “I thought I had him.”
“Try again, sir.”
“Will you let me take my time, Bartlett,” said the doctor tetchily. “I want to strike in a particular place.”
The mate remained silent, watching; while, after letting two or three chances go by, the doctor struck again and wounded the shark, but with a stroke that seemed to infuse vitality instead of destroying it.
“Lesson, Jack, my lad,” he said, rubbing his ear. “Doesn’t do to be cock-sure about anything. Never mind, third time never fails. Here, you tell me when, Bartlett.”