“Or to attack the boat,” said Don, as the end of the shaft suddenly appeared away to their right; and then came rapidly nearer in a direct line for where they were.
“Not he,” said Jem sturdily. “Too stupid.”
All the same, there was soon a peculiar rising in the water coming direct for them, as the boathook seemed to plough through the sea, which rapidly grew shallower. Onward it came, nearer and nearer, till Jem gave a warning shout, and placed one foot on the side ready to plunge overboard.
“Don’t do that, Jem; it’s certain death!” cried Don.
“Don’t you stop, Mas’ Don; that’s certain death, too. Let’s swim ashore. Now, my lad, now, now. Don’t stop a fellow; don’t!”
Jem shouted these words excitedly, as Don clung to him and held him back, gazing wildly all the time at the disturbed water, as the great fish swiftly approached, till, just as it was within a few yards, the shallowness of the water seemed to startle it, making it give quite a bound showing half its length, and then diving down with a kind of wallow, after which the occupants of the boat saw the wooden pole go trailing along the surface, till once more it was snatched, as it were, out of sight.
“Don’t seem as if he’s going to shake it out,” said Jem.
“You must have driven the spike in right over the hook, and it acts like a barb. What a blow you must have given!”
“Well, I hit as hard as I could,” said Jem. “He was coming at me. Can you see it now?”
“No.”