Pals: Young Australians in Sport and Adventure

by Carol Norton

  *CHAPTER XXIX*

  *AT THE MERCY OF THE SEA-TIGER: A NARROW SHAVE*

  The pals watched the seaman-like efforts of Denny to land his "sa-aywhale," or "mare-made," with great curiosity.

  "It's no schnapper, unless, maybe, a real boss 'un. More like a youngshark," was the remark passed by Joe.

  Their curiosity is soon satisfied; the fish is now in the shallows, andthe next moment is drawn to the water's brink. Denny has landed amonster sting-ray.

  It was the first of the kind the Irish boy had ever seen, and, as hepulled the struggling ray into the shallows and exposed its body, he wasstruck mute for a few seconds with astonishment, and not a little alarm,at its uncanny appearance. Dropping his line in the excitement, he halfturned to the boys, and, pointing to the floundering fish, exclaimed,"Begorrah! 'tis th' div-vil himsilf. Saints presarve us, but if yen'snot he'es ta-ale! Or, ma'be 'tis th' dhragon phwat Father Daly towld usabout at Mass larsht Sun-day."

  "He'll be a drag-off in a moment," cried Joe, making a clutch at theline, for the brute was wriggling into the deeper water. The nextminute the ray was smacking the earth with his flappers, and whipping itwith his tail.

  "Phwat be th' crathure, anny ways, Sahndy?"

  "It's a stingaree, Denny. Mind you don't touch its tail, or you willfind out to your cost that it's the dragon, black angel, an' 'th' owldbhoy,' all mixed up like an Irish stew. Run for the tommy, an' we'llwhip it off."

  "And does it bite wid its ta-ale loike a schn-ake, bhoys?"

  "No, you precious duffer! it's got a spike near the tip that it ramsinto you like a needle, an' then look out! Yellow Billy trod on one oncewhen he was havin' a bogey down below Tareela, in the river--they make ahole in the mud an' lie there--an', by jings! he was ravin' mad intwenty minutes. The doctor had to shove a syringe into his arm, andsquirt laudnaum, or somethin', to quiet him down. There!" flourishingthe tomahawk, "that's off, clean as a whistle!"

  "My word!" continued Sandy, a moment later, "we'll keep the tail forHarry. He promised Bill Evans, the jockey, to get one for him if hecould. He's goin' to ride White's horse at the Armidale races, an' he'sthe laziest o' mokes he reckons. Bill says it'll be only by sheerfloggin' that he'll fetch him along. Says if he only had astingaree-tail whip[#] he could do the trick."

  [#] The sting-ray tail is sometimes used for this purpose. It is a cruelinstrument of flagellation in the hands of an unfeeling rider.

  "This is not schnapper fishin'," interjected Joe. "My word! thestingaree'll make stunnin' bait. Put a bit on your hook, Denny, it mayentice 'em."

  Sandy cut off a slice from the flapper and baited Denny's hook with it.The line had hardly reached the bottom ere it was seized by a fish--amonster. The fish did not rush, he bored; the resistance was of asullen nature. Joe came to Denny's help, and between them they drew thefish to land. It proved to be a huge rock cod, or groper, as it is morecommonly called, scaling close upon a hundredweight.

  "A jolly groper, by dad! We're in luck all right," exclaimed Tom."We'll have groper steak for supper to-night; besides, we can pickle onehalf of this cove and dry the other."

  Their luck had changed in more respects than one. The ray and thegroper seemed to be avants courier for the school-schnapper, which nowbegan to bite freely.

  For the next two hours the boys were kept well employed, landing nearupon forty fish, varying from three to twelve pounds in weight. Thetide now began to ebb, and after that there were no more bites. It wasjust as well, for by this time they had caught as many fish as theycould cure. Counting the groper, they had nigh upon threehundredweight. The weight of these when scaled and cleaned would bereduced by at least one-fourth, leaving about two hundred and fiftypounds of choice fish.

  "What's bes' thing to do now, Joe?"

  "W-e-l-l--er--I dunno. Oh, I say, how'd a jolly swim go down?"

  "Spiffin'! A swim, a feed, an' then start cleanin' the fish an' gettin''em ready for smokin' an' saltin'. 'Bout noon I reckon it is."

  "Come on, Denny," cried Joe, as they walked down to a sloping beach alittle back from the Point; "come an' have a dip in the briny."

  "Bedad, thin, that same will Oi not. 'Twu'd be threadin' on wan ivthese stinkin'-rays Oi'd be. Oi can seem to feel th' brute's dirtypisen fangs already in me leg. No, no, thanks be, Oi'm not takin' th'wather tra-atement at prisint. Oi'll go an' start the foire so as to beready f'r yees; that is, if th' sharks div not ma-ake mince-ma-ate ofyees."

  Was it a premonition which caused a cold, tingling thrill to run alongJoe's nervous system, from tip to toe; to be followed by the creeps,which made goose-flesh of his smooth skin? Disagreeable as thesensation is to the lad for the time, it lasts but for a moment, and inless than no time, so to speak, he is revelling in the glories of thecrisp, emerald-tinted wavelets of the Bay.

  It should be stated that Schnapper Point did not extend into the Bay atright angles to the beach. It inclined northward, and at the spot wherethe boys were bathing was not more than two hundred yards from thebeach.

  "Say, chaps," shouted Joe, who was some distance out, "I'm going to swimover to the main beach."

  So saying, he swam slowly towards the other side, enjoying to itsfullest extent the luxury of the exercise. He had covered about a thirdof the distance when he heard a great commotion behind him.

  Denny, who had been attending to the fire, had his attention attractedby a moving object in the sea. Gazing intently thereon for a moment, heleft his occupation and ran swiftly towards the boys.

  "Look, bhoys! look at that gra-ate fish sa-alin' in forninst the Point.Troth, it's a monsther groper, Oi'm thinkin'! Glory! but he'es agra-ate big bullock-groper!"

  So saying, Denny came towards the boys with a puzzled air, as though hisdescription of the object to which he was pointing did not exactlydetermine its species.

  "Whereaway, Denny?" exclaimed Sandy, who was paddling in the surf,standing up and gazing in the direction indicated. "A bullock-groper.That's a new creature surely. Never heard----Hello! why, it's a---- Hi,hi! Joe! Joe!" shouted the lad in a wildly excited state. "Joe,there's a big shark roundin' the Point an' coming this way. Come back,quick! quick!"

  Joe, who was almost on a level with the water, was unable to locate theenemy as quickly as the others. It was not until he began to treadwater that his eye caught the moving object. In a flash he realised hisdanger, for it was a large tiger-shark, the man-eater of the sea. Noteven the man-eater of the jungle, roused through the blood-lust to akilling frenzy, could be more merciless to his victim than thiscold-blooded, pitiless, silent tiger of the seas.

  Terrible as was the shock, his courage survived. He conned thesituation, and formed his judgment in a moment. The shark was eightyyards or so above him, swimming parallel with Schnapper Point beach, andwithin thirty yards or so of it. As far as he could judge the fish wasignorant of his presence, but were he to return to his companions hecould not expect to escape its vigilant eyes; would be crossing its bow,so to speak; and, were it in an attacking mood, would not have the ghostof a show.

  His only hope of escape lay in keeping along his course, getting to thefarther shore in the smallest number of minutes possible. All thiscogitation did not cover twenty seconds, and the boy resumed his swimwith the utmost vigour.

  Had not something happened to divert the shark from its course nothingalarming would have occurred, for Joe was rapidly widening the distance,and every stroke was improving his chances. The boys on shore, with thehope of frightening the monster away altogether, began to make a greatclatter; pelting the shark at the same time. No more fatal policy couldhave been adopted. The only result of their tactics was to divert theshark from its course, and to drive it out in the direction of theircomrade.

  Almost as soon as the brute's course was changed it sighted the swimmer.This it indicated by giving two or three strong strokes with itspowerful tail, and gliding at a rapid rate in t
he wake of the lad. Joewas made acquainted with this change of course by the frantic cries ofhis mates. Throwing his head over his shoulder for a moment, he saw theshark heading directly for him. He knew in that moment that unless themiraculous happened his hours were numbered, and in a few seconds--orminutes at most--his body would be mangled by this pitiless sea-tiger.Yet, although this terrible result appeared an absolute certainty to thefleeing youth, he did not lose his head, but swam with a strong andsteady stroke. There is such a thing as hoping against hope. He wouldnot surrender life; it must be torn from him. Joe's home upbringing,with his father's daily chapter and prayer, sent his thoughtsheavenwards in this his moment of extreme peril: "What time I am afraidI will put my trust in Thee."

  Here was the situation. Joe was about sixty yards from the beach, whilethe relentless pursuer was within thirty yards of him. His mates werepowerless to aid him, and were racing round to the spot where heintended to land as swiftly as their legs could carry them.

  The shark glided within a few yards of the lad, and then swam round him,while conning him. This the boy felt to be simply the preliminary, yetevery stroke was taking him nearer the shore. The water should be evennow shoaling. Might he dare to sound it? But, alas! the enemy seems tounderstand this, and gives a cunning look as it half-raises its bodyfrom the water, and scrutinises its helpless victim preparatory tomaking its final swoop.

  "God help me!" cries the youth, with a dry sob; his last moment hascome. In that supreme moment--as in the case of drowning men--the wholepast came before him. Home, parents, sisters, brothers, pals! There,almost within arm's-length, is his merciless foe; while there is stillquite a stretch of water between him and the beach.

  The great, cold-blooded, insatiable fish is poised for the final spring.A single second now, and----

  Instead of falling upon its victim, the huge brute lashed the water intofoam, and swam round and round in a circle. What had really happenedJoe knew not. He no longer swam shorewards, but, half stupefied, watchedthe "flurries" of the frenzied fish as it lashed the water in rage orpain.

  Then he heard a great splashing shorewards, and a voice shoutingencouraging words. Turning in that direction, the boy beheld, withunutterable joy, Harry, rifle in hand, rushing through the water to him.In a few seconds the stockman is abreast Joe, the water being only up tohis arm-pits. Pointing the rifle at the fish, which was circling inblind fashion, but a few yards off, the rifleman--for it was he, underGod, who worked the miracle--drove a bullet through the shark's brain.

  "My word! 'twas a touch-and-go, old feller!" exclaimed the man, as heput an arm round the boy--who had, in a sense, collapsed--and drew himto the shore. "There now, Joey, me brave boy. Y're all right, ain'tye? Y're not the chap ter faint, I know. Here's the others," as therest dashed up, breathless; the Irish boy fairly crying with excitement.

  They could do nothing for a while but look at Joe as he sat leaningagainst a mangrove--where Harry had placed him--making a brave but weakeffort to smile. The reaction had set in, and the boy felt it was onlyby the most resolute exercise of his will that he kept from swooning.

  Tom, who was blowing like the proverbial grampus, stuttered at last:"Let's m-make tr-racks h-home, b-boys. I-I'd rather be b-b-bailed up bya thousand 'r-rangers, than w-w-w-one of th-hose sea-devils. Oh! thesight of the m-monster as he r-rose to make a d-dive at p-poor Joe!Y-yes, let's c-clear."

  "Clear, be hanged! What are you drivelling about, you jolly idiot?" Itwas just the tonic Joe needed. "We're not goin' to let a thing like thisspoil our sport, not by a long shot. I'm all right. Was a bit knockedout for a few minutes, I will confess. Tell you what, boys; I'll neverbe nearer death till my last moment comes. That I am alive is due,first to God, an' then to ole Harry, here. 'Twas a great shot, thatfirst one of yours. 'Nother second later an' 'twould have been toolate. Ugh! don't believe I'll ever get the green glitter of the thing'seyes outer my mind. Tell you what, I'll jolly well punch the first covethat hints at goin' home. I vote we go back an' scale an' gut the jollyfish."

  "Bedad, thin, it's a plucky wan y'are, Joe, me bhoy! Y're th' mahn f'rme money ivry toime. But, ye'll not do a sthroke iv wark till yees havea feed. Faith, Oi'll do a sthreak an' get th' billy boilin' f'r apipin' hot cup o' tay. It's what we all want; Joe in particular."Suiting his action to the word, the cook strode off in quick time toprepare the lunch.

  Meanwhile the dead shark had drifted into the shallows until it strandedon the beach. The party now made a closer examination of the brute.The first shot, fired from the bank as the creature raised itself, hadcaught it in the throat; the second passed through the eye to the brain.

  "Why, it's a tiger-shark!" exclaimed Harry; "twelve foot if he's aninch. Thought 'twas a blue-nose at fust; they're bad enough, but thisjoker's the worst kind that swims the sea. My word, Joe, it'd been allU P if this chap'd once got 'is teeth intil yer."

  "Budgeree, budgeree, you bin shootem shark? Him murry bad p-feller.Catchem plendy black p-feller; eaten. This p-feller live longa Pointplendy years."

  "The huge brute lashed the water into foam, and swamround and round in a circle."--_See p._ 271.]

  The group, which had been intently gazing at the carcass, turned roundin a startled manner on bearing these guttural sounds. Immediatelybehind them was a cluster of aboriginals, five in number, who had stolensilently upon the scene.

  "Hello, Cock-eye! that you?" cried Harry, as he surveyed the blacks."Where you bin sittin' down, eh?"

  "Cedar Crik. We bin come longa here get fis' for choppers."

  "Oh, the timber-getters, hey! Well, you seem ter know this ole boss.You bin see 'im afore?"

  "Plendy times. Bin often try catch 'im. He kill-ee mine sister. Hetoo much lika dingo; no take bait."

  "Well, you can git even with this joker, Cock-eye. He eat your people;now you chaps gobble 'im up."

  The blacks are inordinately fond of shark's flesh, and--cannibal as thissea-tiger is--no question of sentiment may stand between these primitivemen and a gorge.

  "I say, Harry, cut that dorsal fin off for me, there's a good man,before these niggers tackle it. I'd like to keep that."

  After a considerable amount of hacking, the stockman managed to separatethe fin, and, leaving the blacks in undisturbed possession of thecarcass, they returned to the Point, to feed, and to finish their work.