Suddenly there was a jerk, and the line began to burn through his fingers; he gripped it hard, and was nearly pulled overboard. The thing at the other end, surprised at resistance, stopped an instant and gave Arthur time to recover himself.
“Gee! I’ve got something,” he shouted. He certainly had, or something had got him; it was some time before he could make up his mind which it was.
The fish began to move. Arthur determined he should not, and the consequence was that they all moved, the fish, “His nibs” and Arthur, straight for the open Gulf.
“Here, where are you going?” Kenneth’s voice came faintly over the water to him.
“I don’t know,” Arthur shouted back, his eyes on the taut line.
“Cut loose!” The voice from the yacht was fainter. Arthur thought that he must be moving away fast, but he determined that he would not give up. He watched the line closely, and presently noticed that it was taking a longer and longer slant; evidently the fish was coming to the surface. “His Nibs” rushed along at a great rate, its bow low down with Arthur’s weight and the stress of the towing; its stern was almost out of water. The line rose slowly until it was almost parallel with the surface. Arthur watched it excitedly as it cut the water like a knife and the drops were thrown aside by its vibrations. At length a sharp fin rose out of the water, and cut a rippling V in the blue sea.
“By Jove! it’s a shark,” said Arthur between his teeth.
The boys on the yacht evidently saw, too, for a faint cry reached the ears of the boy in the boat. “Let him go!” they shouted. “Let him go!”
“I’ll be hanged if I do.” Arthur did not waste his breath by speaking the words aloud; he needed all his strength to hold on to the small line. The cord cut his fingers, and the pull made his arms ache, but he would not give in. “That beast must get tired some time,” he thought. Suddenly the fin turned, there was a miniature whirlpool behind it, and Arthur’s arms were nearly wrenched out as the shark put helm to port and struck out in a new direction. Arthur looked up, saw that they were heading straight for the “Gazelle,” and he took courage.
“If he’ll only go near enough,” thought the boy; but the capture was not to be counted on, as it dashed from side to side and made rushes this way and that, in a vain endeavor to get away from the maddening hook. Its general direction, however, was toward the yacht. Arthur shouted: “Soak him, if you get a chance. I’m nearly done.”