But early in the afternoon the wind went down, and the water became as calm and still as a fish-pond. Sail was taken in and stowed, and Frank got out the oars.
Whole shoals of turtle were seen, but no rays, no stingarees, so they consoled themselves with dining, and after a drink of cocoanut water, Frank resumed the oars, and Quambo, smoking his huge pipe, once more took his station at the bows.
The afternoon wore on, the sun was declining in the west, and they were all beginning to show signs of weariness, for the day had been drowsily hot, when once more Quambo stood erect, grasping a fresh harpoon, and signing to Fred as before.
There was no mistake about the stingarees this time. The boat seemed to be in the midst of a huge shoal of them, and in a moment Quambo had hurled the harpoon into one of the very largest.
The commotion that ensued baffles description. The huge brute seemed for a time to be right under the boat, and almost lifting it up. Then he darted ahead, and the appearance of the creature now was terrible in the extreme. He had come right up to the surface of the sea, which was red with blood, while not only was the water lashed into foam by the dart-armed tail, but by the fins or wings at each side.
If ever any creature in the world merited the name of sea devil, it was that monster stingaree just then.
Meanwhile Quambo was making lunges at it with his dagger-pointed spear. This seemed to lash the monster to fury at last, and after a dreadful struggle or two to free itself from the galling harpoon it plunged forwards and stood straight away out to sea.
* * * * * *
Now as the day wore on, after putting the dinner all ready for cooking—for our heroes were expected to return to the island before sun-down—Magilvray, with Cassia-bud and Bob, determined to walk to Beacon Hill. The road now was easily found, and in less than an hour they had stationed themselves beside the broomstick, as it was called, whence Magilvray could sweep the horizon with the spy-glass. They were just in time to see the striking of the stingaree, and witness the monster's fearful struggle for freedom. Then they saw it dash away seawards, pulling the boat behind it as a salmon might the float of a fishing-line.
They saw Quambo's efforts to round in the line in order to be able to ply his dagger-lance once more; then they noticed that the stingaree seemed suddenly to change its course. They saw Quambo cut the line, but almost at the same moment the boat turned turtle, and its occupants were thrown into the sea.