The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“The hooks will puzzle his inside,” said Desmond, “when he begins to feel them. He’ll think twice before he has another bite.”

The muskets were loaded, and the midshipmen standing up, kept their eyes closely watching the bait, which floated on the surface, two or three fathoms astern.

“There he comes,” cried Desmond. And as the shark, turning on his back, exposed the white of his belly, they both fired. The brute disappeared, and so did the bait, sinking like a rocket until lost to sight.

“We have finished him this time, at all events,” cried Desmond. “He’ll not take any more of our hooks.”

“Yes, but we have lost the slices out of his back,” cried Billy; “and, unless we can now catch some fish, we shall be on short commons for supper.”

Hoping that they should not be again troubled by the shark, fresh lines were got out. No fish, however, took the bait; either none came near, or it was not suited to their tastes. Supper consequently consisted only of biscuits and tea; but the warm tea was a great comfort after the heat of the day. The watch kept the lines down all night, but still without success. Two more days went by with little variation. Now and then their hopes were raised seeing a ripple far away on the surface; but, if caused by wind, it died away before it reached them. They were now on a short allowance of water; that in the skins had either evaporated or leaked out, the store in the cocoa-nuts had soon been exhausted, and they had only the boat’s breaker, on which they had already commenced. A few biscuits and a portion of the salt beef, which was at the best scarcely eatable, and possessed but slightly nutritive qualities, alone remained. Still they had enough to keep them alive for three or four days, perhaps for longer; but before that time, should a breeze spring up, they might at all events reach Faralon de Pajaros, the most northern of the Ladrones. There were other small islands marked down to the westward, one of which they might sight; and, if so, Tom determined to land, and try to obtain water and any food they might be able to find. They would most likely be able to get shellfish from the rocks, which would be an improvement on the junk. It was night. Desmond had the watch, and Tom was lying down fast asleep. He was aroused by hearing Desmond sing out, “A breeze! a breeze! All hands make sail!” Tom in a moment was on his feet. He looked around him and up at the stars.

“From which quarter does it come?” he asked.

The binnacle lamp had not been lighted. A light was soon struck. Tom examined the compass. “It is dead against us,” he exclaimed, with almost a groan.

“It is coming on very strong too, sir,” observed Jerry. “It would be better not to set the mainsail, until we see what happens.”

As Jerry had feared, the wind became stronger, and they presently had as much as the boat could stagger under, with only her mizzen and foresail set. The sea, however, was not as heavy as might have been expected. Tom kept the boat’s head close to it, and she rode easily over the fast-rising billows. The hatch, which had hitherto been of no use, was shipped, and kept out the seas which occasionally broke on board. The boat was much lighter than when she had started; indeed, as Jerry observed, “she would have been the better for a few more sand-bags in her bottom.” Tom was delighted at her behaviour.