"Play!" cried Quambo, throwing him to Magilvray.
"Keep the pot a-boilin'," roared Magilvray, and next moment Frank had caught the lad and pitched him back to Fred.
They kept the game up for ten minutes. It was as good as dumb-bells, Fred said. The rule of the game was, that when anyone dropped the live-ball on the sand he was to stand out. At last there was nobody in except Quambo. He hoisted Cassia-bud right up on his shoulders, and there the boy stood erect while the giant went capering up and down the sands, with Hurricane Bob barking around them for joy.
Well, Cassia-bud's conies, or cavies, proved most delightful eating, and were quite a change from fish fish, fish morn, noon, and night.
But it must not be supposed that because there were no wild beasts in the island, there were no wild adventures to be had. No; for there was the sea, and adventure is inseparable from the briny ocean.
It would be difficult indeed to say how many different species of sharks there were in the bay. Quambo was rather an authority on the natural family Squalidæ, and both Fred and Frank had seen a shark or two in their time. Well, there were at all events the blue shark, the basking shark, the white shark, and the most dread monster of all, the tiger shark. This last was admitted by the other species to be facile princeps, for whenever one appeared the others modestly retired.
Strange as it may appear, Cassia-bud had not the slightest fear of these awful demons of the sea. But an adventure he had one day while fishing was surely enough to scare the senses out of any boy one whit less brave.
He was fishing as usual one afternoon when Fred and Frank had got home earlier than usual from their woodland rambles, and were lying on the sands watching his sport. The boy had caught about a dozen or more good-sized fish, stringing them one by one as he did so on a long, supple wand, that after he landed he could carry across his shoulder—so many fish behind, so many in front of him. Every now and then near Cassia-bud's boat the ominous-looking fins of a huge shark could be seen protruding from the water. The very sight made Frank's spine feel cold.
Suddenly, to their horror, they noticed that in leaning over the gunwale of the gig and hauling in his line, to which it appeared afterwards a huge conger was attached, the boat was capsized, and with a frightened scream Cassia-bud was precipitated into the water. Probably there is not an English boy who lives that would have done what this negro child did then. He seized his stick of fish, and commenced swimming rapidly shorewards. For a moment or two perhaps the sharks were frightened off, but they were speedily in pursuit of the boy. One, two, three, four great fins could be counted in his rear.
Both Fred and Frank started to their feet, and stood staring, speechless and aghast. They would have given a good deal could they have turned away their eyes from watching the threatened tragedy. On and on came the black, round head, with the frightened face and rolling eyes, and on and on came the sharks.