“Something like fishing this, Roy,” said Syd, excitedly, while the men held on, and they could see amid the flying, foaming water the long, lithe body quivering from end to end like a steel spring.
“I’d haul him out, sir, ’fore he shakes that noose right over his tail.”
“Yes. Look alive, my lads. Now then!” cried Syd, “haul him out. Quick!”
The men gave a cheer, and hauling together, they ran the writhing monster right out of the water, and over the edge of the natural pier, fifty feet or so up among the loose rocks, where it leaped and bounded and pranced about for a few minutes in a way which forbade approach.
Then there was a loud cheer as Rogers seized his opportunity, and brought down the axe he had snatched up with so vigorous a stroke on the creature’s back, about a couple of feet above the great lobe of the tail, that the vertebra was divided, and from that moment the violent efforts to get free lost their power.
It was an easy task now to give the savage monster its coup de grâce, and as it lay now quivering and beyond doing mischief, the men set up another cheer and crowded round.
“There,” cried Rogers, “that means shark steak for dinner, lads, and—”
“Sail ho!” came from above; and the shark was forgotten as the words sent an electric thrill through all.
“Come on, Roylance!” cried Syd, climbing up the rope-ladder to run and get his glass.
“Ay, ay,” cried Roylance, following.