“If either of us stop for a moment the brute will have one or both of us,” thought Jack, and he wished that he had not been so foolhardy as to go so far from his ship. He looked up at the tall masts and dark hull, and the delicate tracery of the rigging, and the white sails, which hung against the masts and were reflected as in a mirror on the tranquil deep, and they seemed still a long, long way from him; but Jack knew in Whom he trusted. He had been foolish and disobedient in going so far from the ship; but he felt that he was under the protection of One, merciful and long suffering, who had the power to save him even from the jaws of the ravenous fish, and to that Great Being he prayed fervently, unceasingly, for aid as he swam on. Not for a moment did he lose heart; still, as now and again he turned his head, there, close to him, was the dark ominous fin, and through the clear water glittered the bright cruel eye of the monster of the deep. As long as the fin was seen Jack knew that the shark was not about to make his attack, but he dreaded every instant to see it disappear; for a shark must always turn on its back to seek its prey.
It was some minutes before Sikes discovered the vicinity of their dreaded companion. Where was now his boasting and his courage? On whom had he now to trust? On his own strength? What could that avail him? Unhappy man. He had never learned to trust in God, who alone can help him now. He cried out piteously to his messmate.
“Jack, Jack, what shall we do now?”
Jack did not taunt him, as he might have done, for his boasting and self-confidence. Far from his heart was such an idea.
“Trust in God, Bill, and keep up your courage,” he shouted with a cheerful voice; “strike away, we shall soon reach the ship.”
“I can’t, mate, I can’t,” answered Sikes, “I don’t know how to trust in him. He won’t listen to such as me.”
“Pray to him, He’ll hear you, depend on it,” replied Jack.
“I don’t know how to pray—I’ve never prayed,” replied the unhappy man. “Oh, Jack, help me—help me. The shark came close to me, I felt him touch my leg,” he shrieked in a piteous voice.
“Swim on, swim on, man cannot help you, Bill,” said Jack in return; “don’t let your heart faint. Keep praying, I say.”
Alas, alas! How many must find out when too late, that the man on a bed of sickness, or in the hour of danger, who has never prayed before, can seldom or never pray then! The fresh morning of youth, the time of health and strength, of safety and peace, is the time for prayer. Depend on it, the man who does not pray in fair weather never will pray well in foul. So Bill Sikes found when the shark was swimming alongside him. Lustily and well the two seamen plied their arms and feet. Most of their shipmates had climbed on board.