Here again he reconnoitred the bait, and walloped about all round it, as if laughing at us, and saying to himself,—"No go, my boys." He then looked up with a languishing eye at little Dicky Phantom, whom Lennox was now holding on the tafferel. "Ah," again said sharkee to himself, I make no question, "ah, that's the thing I want. What a morsel that would be!" and he made several rushes hither and thither, as one has seen a dog do, before settling down steadily on end, to look up at the morsel an urchin is tantalizing him with.
At length, seeing I was so unaccommodating and inexorable as not even to oblige him with a limb, and that Dicky Phantom was altogether forbidden fruit, he made an angry dart, and vanished below the counter.
"Poo, confound him, he can't be hungry," quoth Mr Weevil the purser, as he hauled in the line, hand over hand, until the bait was close under foot; when, just as it was rising out of the water, the shark, finding that it must be either salt junk or no fare, made a sudden grab at the bait, gorged it—dashed off with it, and, alack-a-daisy, with the purser also. Dreaming no harm, he had for a moment taken a turn of the line round his left arm as he hauled in, which, by the sudden jerk, ran; and if Lennox and old Drainings had not caught him by the heels, he would have been fairly overboard. The fun now grew fast and furious, for there was the hideous fish, walloping and floundering, and surging about, within a fathom of the purser, who was hanging over the stern, like a side of beef laid in, at sailing, for sea stock; his head dip-dipping into the water every now and then, as the vessel rose and fell, while he struggled, and spluttered, and twisted, in a vain attempt to get his arm loose; the shark all the time back, backing like a restive horse, and dragging and jerking about until I thought the purser's fin would absolutely have been torn from his shoulder.
All this time the crew were like to explode with laughter, while poor Weevil roared lustily,—"Haul me in, for Heaven's sake, my good men, or he will swallow me—haul"——Here his head would sink into the water, and the sentence end in a great coughing and spluttering, until, just as he was on the point of being suffocated, out his nob would be dragged again by the pitching of the vessel, so as to enable him to renew his shouts for succour. At length the shark, being a good deal exhausted, was brought close under the stern, when I sent two bullets, from my double-barrelled Manton, through his head, right between his eyes.
"Ah," quoth old Drainings the cook, "that has settled him, or the devil is in it; so lend a hand, Lennox,"—(the marine had hold of one of the purser's legs, and the artiste! the other)—"so lend a hand, Lennox, and, during the lull, let us bouse in Mr Weevil. Ho, yo, yo, yo, oh!"
The wounded shark had borne the loss of his brains with great composure, but the instant he felt the renewed drag at the pork in his maw, as if he had been only stunned, he started off at a tangent as strong as ever; and before you could say Jack Robinson, the pursuer's starboard leg was whipped out of Jack Lennox's clutches; but the one to port being in old Drainings' iron claws, was held like grim death, for he was a great ally of Weevil's.
"Don't for Heaven's sake, let me go, Mr Drainings," roared Weevil, as if cookey had been his last shroud, "don't,"—splutter, splutter—"oh,"—cough, cough. The little vessel at this moment sended heavily, giving a strange sort of swinging lurch or wallop, as if shaking her sides with laughter, and again dipped his head a foot under water.
As the unfortunate piscator rose this time with a jerk to the surface, the shark, having had momentary scope to sink, kept his own so resolutely, that clip, as a climax to the fun, the old cook himself was torn from his hold, and away he went next, still clinging to the purser's leg, however, so that if his own had not been seized by Lennox and myself, he would have been overboard also. I was now like to die with laughter. I could scarcely keep my hold; as for speaking, it was out of the question, for the shark, and purser, and cook, like a string of Brobdingnag sausages, were floundering in the calm water, close under our counter, all linked together, not quite "ladies' chain," by the way, although, from the half-suffocated exclamations of two of the links, it might not inaptly have been called, "Chaine des Dames." Oh, fie! Benjie Brail. However, the matter was now getting serious.
"Mr Peak, that boathook there—quick, bring the boathook."—Little Joe was no admirer of Weevil's, and, as he made believe to hook him by the waistband of the breeches, as he struggled in the water, he contrived to dig the sharp point of the instrument into his stern-frame more than once; and at length when he did catch him, it was by nothing that would hold, but by one of the pockets of his coat, which instantly gave, and out flew into the water his snuff-box, pocket-handkerchief, and a nondescript pouch of sealskin, rolled up.
"Lord save us! dinna drown the spleuchan," exclaimed Lennox, as it dropped into the sea.