“Wrong, Mr Small, sir,” said Billy, handing the remains of his half of the bird to the dog and cleaning his knife by sticking it in and out of the sand; “wrong, sir. I think he meant Jack here; but the monkey squeals out and hops under my legs in no time, and Mr Jack-shark alters his mind and goes for Muster Gregory, shoots out o’ the water, he does, and he was aboard of us afore we knowed where we was.”
“Get out!” said Small.
“It’s a fact, Mr Small, sir; ask my mate if it aren’t. He didn’t stop aboard cause he come crostwise over the bows; but there he was aboard for a moment afore he slips off, and when he comes round to try it again the skipper and Mr Greg lets him have it out o’ their guns, and scared him off; and, bless your ’arts, I have seen a few rum games in the sea, but the way his mates chawed him up arterwards beat everything. Why, the lagoon, as they calls it, was chock full o’ sharks—millions of ’em.”
“Were there now, Billy?” said Small, smiling.
“Well, of course I can’t say to a few, for we was a good ways off; but what I do say is that it seemed the sharkiest spot I ever see; and, if they’d only have stood still, you might have walked on their backs for miles.”
“Give Billy Widgeon a cocoa-nut to stop his talk,” said the boatswain; “and there’s a bit o’ ’bacco for you, Billy, to clear your memory, my lad.”
“Oh, my memory’s clear enough, Mr Small, sir,” said Billy, who was eating something all the time; “but thanky all the same. And now, how have you got on?”
“Oh,” said the boatswain, “we’ve had a bit of a scare!”
But a narration of this was being given where the other occupants of the boat were partaking of their evening meal.
“Did the creature seem to come any nearer?” said the captain as the little group sat beneath the edge of the cocoa-nut grove, satisfying themselves with the reflected light of the men’s fire, which had been lit as a beacon to attract them home.