The lines of the diver led toward the fore part of the ship, and moved slightly. Williams, who tended them, sat listlessly upon the rail of the tug, and gave or drew in as the occasion called. I kept looking to see things, but could make out nothing further in the way of the wreck.
A huge shadow passed under me—a long, dark shape. It was a gigantic shark nosing about the wreck.
I called out to Williams.
"No fear," he replied lazily; "they won't hurt him in that dress—might if he was naked."
The shark passed along forward, and sank down out of sight. Then Haswell signaled that he was coming up.
He came slowly, and I watched the lines coming in. Soon the metal helmet appeared, and then he climbed with seeming difficulty up the ladder, helped by Williams. When he came above the rail, he hung over it, and his front glass was unscrewed, the pumps stopped working, and we came close to hear the news.
"Located her all right," he said. "You can fix up about twenty pounds of number two gelatine—better put it in a tube, and be sure to make the wires fast—have to pull it through some wreckage down there."
"See anything of a big shark?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, I gave him a poke in the stomach with a stick—he won't bother me in this dress—but I did get nipped by one of those poisonous snakes—see?" And he held out his hand, where a small trickle of blood ran down from the second joint of his forefinger.
Williams gave an exclamation. The natives looked at him anxiously.