A huge sawfish was swimming about the harbor, having just come inside the reef. Tropical seas are infested by many of these fish, which "fin out" like a shark, and which are probably of the shark species. The long snout, unlike the swordfish, which is a giant mackerel, is studded with rows of sharp teeth, put there for the Lord knows what purpose. This monster had come close to the ship, and the negroes had spotted him, and thought him a shark at a distance where his snout could not be seen.
Some one shouted, "Shark!" and the intelligent bos'n hauled line with those finlike flippers of his after the manner of a sperm-whaler coming upon a three hundred-barrel whale. My head had struck the ship's bilge, and my back had been cut open with the razor-like barnacles—and then the fish, getting frightened at the uproar, dove below, and his teeth on his saw snout fouled the line.
It parted, but it parted between him and the ship, and away I went in tow of a flying sawfish.
I knew nothing about it for some time, luckily; it would have affected my nerves.
Luckily the negroes were active in spite of their laziness. A small boat, lying alongside the ship, was instantly manned, and within a minute it was after me, with four stout blacks pulling for all they were worth. A man in the bow reached over and jabbed at the line with his boat hook and jerked it aboard. Then he lifted me in and turned me over to the rest in the boat, while he held on to the line and played the fish gamely for all the sport there was in it.
I came to in that boat towing behind a sawfish, which the natives seemed to think was more important to catch than me getting back aboard and receiving proper treatment for being nearly cut in two and drowned.
The line finally broke, and they rowed me sorrowfully back alongside. I looked up, and saw Miss Lucy Docking gazing over the side with some show of anxiety expressed upon her face. Also I noted Bill Boldwin, skipper of the Prince Albert, showing some interest in the proceedings.
"Send him aboard, you black scoundrels!" screamed Miss Lucy. "How dare you keep that man in the boat chasing a good-for-nothing fish?"
"Bring him alongside, or I'll be in there after you," roared Bill.
My bos'n passed a line down, and I was quickly hoisted aboard, where I was laid out flat on my back, as I was still too weak to stand. Miss Lucy herself poured whisky down my throat and smoothed my wet hair back from my bleeding head.