“Swim on, Mr Merry, swim on,” he shouted, shoving me before him. “Here comes the boat.”
The men bent to their oars, and the brave boatswain swam on with all his might. With a jerk he threw Gogles into the boat, and gave me a shove up as I was climbing in, which very nearly sent me over on the other side; he then sprang after us with surprising agility, turning as soon as he had got his feet out of the water, and striking with all his might at a huge creature which followed close at our heels. I saw the flash of the monster’s white throat.
“Habet,” shouted our third lieutenant, who was—a rare thing in those days in the navy—somewhat of a scholar. Mr Johnson had inflicted a mortal wound on another shark, who was immediately surrounded by his amiable brethren, eager to devour him as they had missed us. It is not difficult to conceive what would have been our fate had we remained another minute in the water, after the boatswain had killed the first shark.
“You indeed did that bravely, Mr Johnson,” said Mr Haisleden, as we returned to the frigate. “I never saw anything like it. Where did you learn that trick?”
“In the south seas, sir,” answered the boatswain in a quiet tone, very different from his usual boastful manner. “I was once wrecked on an island, where I saw the natives swim off and attack sharks with their common knives; and I said to myself, what a savage does an Englishman can do, if he takes time and practises. So as I had little chance of getting away for many months, or it might be years, I set to and learned to swim like the natives, and then to fight the sharks. It was no easy matter, and at first it was trying work to see one of the monsters making towards me and the native who accompanied me; but after I had seen the way in which he managed, I was no longer afraid, and soon became as expert as any of them. No man knows what he can do till he tries. I’ve been the means of saving the life of more than one shipmate by thus knowing how to manage the brutes.”
“Why, you’ve ridden on a shark, Mr Johnson,” said Gogles, opening his eyes.
“Gammon!” answered the boatswain, twisting his nose. “I am speaking the truth now.”
By this time we had reached the side of the frigate. Captain Collyer was on deck. He warmly thanked Mr Johnson for his gallantry in jumping over to save us, and we received the congratulations of our friends at our escape, but I found that it was generally supposed I had fallen overboard as well as Gogles; nor did I feel inclined to explain matters. “I should have mast-headed the youngsters for sky larking on board the Daring,” observed Captain Staghorn to one of our officers, as he took a sharp and hurried turn on the quarter-deck.
“I’m glad I don’t belong to your ship, my jewel,” thought I, as I overheard him.
Gogles and I were sent below to our hammocks, and Mr Johnson followed us to put on dry clothes.