Mother Carey's Chicken Part 59

"If it is an island, father," said Mark, smiling.

"And that it must be, Mark, my lad, and a very small one, as we shall see."

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

HOW THAT FISH MEANT MISCHIEF, AND BECAME MEAT.

Their way still led them along the peaceful waters which girt the island--for so they now felt that they might venture to call it--the strong barrier reef of coral keeping back the heaving swell of the ocean, which foamed and broke outside, leaving the lagoon perfectly calm, save here and there where they came across an opening in the reef through which a fleet might apparently have sailed into fairly deep anchorage, sheltered from the wildest storm and the roughest sea.

Here and there the reef was so far above water that vegetation had taken root, and young cocoa-nut trees were springing up to form the beginning of a grove, but for the most part there was the dead coral, the gleaming sand, and the pearly foam glistening in the sun.

No currents to stay them, no rough winds to check. Their journey might have been upon some peaceful lake, whose left-hand sh.o.r.e was one succession of cocoa-nut groves; and beyond that, rocky jungle, full of ridge and hollow, mound of verdure, and darksome glade and chasm, down which trickled streams of water, such as had risen in the heights which culminated in the smoking cone of the volcano, while here and there the streams gave marked traces of their sources by sending up faint clouds of steam.

Mark felt as he lay back in the stern and gazed at the glorious panorama that he could watch the various phases of beauty in the landscape for ever. But then he was not rowing, and the motion of the boat and the dipping of his hands in the water kept him comparatively cool.

Still, in spite of its beauty it was impossible to gaze sh.o.r.eward without a feeling of awe. For there had been that trembling of the earth; there were here and there openings in the trees through which vast blackened roads of rock seemed to come down to the sea, zigzag tracks which it was plain enough were the cooled-down and hardened streams of lava which had made their way to the sea during some eruption of the calmly beautiful mountain which rose so peacefully toward the clouds, one of which seemed to have remained to act as its feathery crown.

Then, too, there was the remembrance of that terrible roar which they had heard in the jungle, and every now and then Mark's eyes searched the trees at the edge beyond the sands, and he longed with a sensation of shrinking to catch sight of the creature which had given them all so much alarm.

But search how he would, as the boat went steadily on, there was no sign of animal life ash.o.r.e but the birds. Once or twice he fancied he could see something like a lizard run across the heated rocks, but he could not be sure. But of birds there seemed to be plenty. Flocks of doves, large lavender-plumed pigeons, white c.o.c.katoos, long-tailed lories, and parrots whose feathers bore all the colours of the rainbow; but sh.o.r.ewards that was all. In the lagoon it was very different.

"Sha'n't want for fish," said Gregory, as he dipped his oar--he and the captain now giving the men a rest.

As he spoke a shoal was making the water dance just ahead and completely changing its colour, for, as they fed upon the small fry with which the surface gleamed, the sea was dappled with rings, serried with ridges, and seemed as if it were a fluid of mingled gold and silver beneath which some volcanic action was going on, which made it boil and flush and ripple till the bows of the gig reached the shoal, and then instantaneously the surface became calm.

"Plenty of work for you, Mark," said the captain. "You will have to be head of our fishing department, and keep our little colony supplied."

"You must get Small to help you make a net," said Gregory, "and contrive some long lines."

They ceased rowing, for they were now opposite a spot where the jungle came close to the edge of the lagoon, being only separated by a smooth patch of sand. Here, too, were quite a flock of the maleo birds, scratching and searching for food, after the fashion of fowl; but as the boat stopped they took alarm, and seemed to skim over the sand, their feet striking the ground so rapidly as to become invisible.

"They can run," said the mate; "but we seem to have learned their secret. What's that?"

All listened, but there was no sound.

"I fancied I heard a low distant roaring noise," said the mate, dipping his oar again, "but I may have been mistaken."

The captain was in the act of dipping his own oar when Billy Widgeon, who was seated just in front of Mark, whose place was right astern, turned sharply and caught the lad's arm:

"Look, Mr Mark, sir, look!" he cried, pointing with his other hand, "there he goes!"

"Who?" cried Mark excitedly; "a savage?"

"Yes, sir," said Billy, grinning and holding Bruff, "savage enough.

Nay, nay, my lad, you lie down. It wouldn't do you no good to go overboard now."

"A large one, too," said the captain, resting on his oar.

"Ay, he's a nasty customer," said the mate.

"What is?" cried Mark eagerly. "What is it you can all see?"

"Shark!" said the captain.

"Where? Where? I want to see a shark."

Mark's eyes were roving all about, but he saw nothing in any direction save a little dark triangular piece of something, with the forward side a little curved, and this was moving slowly through the water.

"There, my lad, there," said the captain; "can't you see his back fin?"

"Is that a shark?" said Mark, in a disappointed tone, as the black object, looking like the thick lateen sail of some tiny invisible boat, glided along the surface not fifty yards away, and making as if to cross their bows.

"Yes," said the captain, "that's the fin of a shark, ten-feet long I should say."

"And I a dozen," said the mate.

"Like to see him a little closer?" said the captain.

"Yes," cried Mark eagerly; and then he wished he had said "No," for the oars were, after a pull or two, laid inboard, while the captain took hold of the sharply-pointed hitcher, and held it balanced in his hand.

The impetus given to the boat was sufficient to drive it onward, so that it was evident that the back fin of the shark and the bows of the gig would arrive at the same point together, and Mark rose eagerly to see what would follow, when the captain made him a sign.

Mark sat down, and suddenly saw the shark's fin stop some three or four yards from the boat, change its position, and come end on towards where he was seated; and his eyes were fixed so firmly on this that he quite started, as he saw before it, and very close to where he sat, a dark-looking body, with a rounded snout and two pig-like eyes.

"Don't know what to make on us, Mr Mark, sir," said Billy Widgeon, grinning. "See his old shovel nose?"

"Yes," said Mark, "but I can't see his mouth. I thought they had great gaping mouths, full of sharp teeth."

"He keeps his rat-trap down underneath him, sir, so as not to frighten the fishes."

"Hand me that gun, Mark," said the mate.

Mark pa.s.sed it along; and as he did so the shark glided round the stern, and came along the other side.

"You don't think he'll attack us, do you?" said the captain.

"There's no knowing what a jack-shark will do," said the mate, quietly c.o.c.king both barrels, and making the muzzle of the gun follow the movements of the great fish, whose elongated form was perfectly plain now in the clear water as he slowly glided on. The long unequally-lobed tail waved softly to and fro like a peculiarly-formed paddle, and the motion of the fish seemed to be peculiarly effortless as he went on right past the gig, and continued his course a dozen yards ahead.

"Off!" said the captain laconically; but as he spoke the shark turned, and the fin came toward them again, always at the same distance above the water, and again on their starboard side, by which it glided, went astern, and turned, to come back once more.

"Hadn't we two better pull, sir?" said Billy. "He means mischief, that he do."

"Think he'll attack?" said the captain again.

"I'm beginning to think he will," said Mr Gregory.