Syd Belton Part 73

"Hist! Don't make a sound," whispered Syd, as a murmur of horror ran through the group on the top of the cliff.

For something had caught the eyes of all at the same moment. To wit, one of the triangular back fins, which had been gliding here and there about the coop on the far side of the boat, was seen to be coming round her bows, and the next thing seemed to be that the monster would detect the position of the midshipman, and then all would be over. In imagination Syd saw the voracious creature gliding rapidly toward Roylance, dive down, turn over showing its white under-parts, and then there was the blood-stained water, the wild shriek, and disappearance.

But only in imagination, for as he made an effort all this cleared away from his excited brain, and the midshipman was there still swimming vigorously, and with a slow steady stroke, toward the rock, towing the line. But there was the shark between him and the boat, quite round on his side now.

"Hadn't you better let go?" said Syd, in a voice he did not know for his own.

"No," came back rather breathlessly, "there's plenty of line, Belt. I made the other end fast and--can't talk now."

A sudden thought struck Syd.

"I must not say any more," he said to himself; "a word would frighten him and make him lose his nerve. Here, quick! My lads," he whispered, "get some big lumps of rock ready to throw down."

The men scattered, and in less than a minute they were back, and a little heap of stones from the size of a man's head downwards were ready at the edge of the cliff, where Syd was gazing down fifty feet or so at his friend, who still swam on toward where the sailor was waiting, and in happy ignorance of the nearness of one of the sharks. Syd could see right down into the clear water whenever the disturbance made by the lad's strokes did not ruffle the surface, and his starting eyes were plunged down into the depths in search of fresh dangers.

"Oh!" he said to himself, "if he only knew how near that savage beast is! Swim, Roy, swim, lad! Why don't you let go of the rope and save yourself?"

He dare not shout aloud; and though he was high up in safety, he felt once more all the agony of horror and fear which had come over him when he was himself escaping from a shark, and he shuddered as he heard a murmur about him, and the men stood ready each with a great stone.

"Couldn't no one go and help him with a knife?" whispered one of the men. "Oh! look at that."

"Hullo! Caught again?" cried Roylance, as the rope jerked.

No one replied. It was as if their mouths were too dry to utter a word, for the party on the top of the cliff plainly saw the shark thrust the rope up with its muzzle and glide under it.

Just then the horrible secret was out, for the sailor down below at the end of the rope shrieked out--

"Swim, sir! swim for it. One of those devils is coming at yer."

Roylance was not a dozen feet from the speaker now, and they saw him give a violent start, and glance wildly over his shoulder.

The fright did it. He could no longer swim calmly now, but began to throw out his arms hand over hand to reach the rock, splashing the water up into foam, and in an instant this brought the shark in his track.

"Ready with the stones?" cried Syd, seizing one himself, and poising it above his head.

The others obeyed, and what followed seemed afterwards almost momentary.

The shark scented its prey, and came on steadily now toward where Roylance was struggling desperately. In another minute the poor fellow would have been seized, but a shower of great stones came whirling down in dangerous proximity to the swimmer, only one of which struck the shark, but that one with so good effect that it was for the moment disconcerted, and turned round as if puzzled. But directly after it saw its prey, went down, and rose in the act of turning over to seize its victim.

But there's many a slip between the cup and the lip, even in the case of sharks. Many a one has had a knife ripping it open just as it has antic.i.p.ated enjoying some juicy black; and others have had their prey s.n.a.t.c.hed from their lancet-studded jaws, or tasted with it a hook.

It was so here. Syd had hurled his stone, and was watching its effect before stooping for another, when he realised what the sailor in the loop below was about to do.

"No, no," he cried, quick as thought. "No more stones, stand by with the rope."

Syd threw himself down upon his chest and strained over the edge to watch what was going on, while, with the rapidity taught by discipline, the sailors seized the rope, and stood ready and waiting the next order.

It was not for them to think for themselves, but to act as their officers bade, and Syd was already one whom they trusted and flew to obey.

All this takes long to describe, but the action was quick enough.

The sailor at the end of the rope had, as Roylance drew nearer, spun himself round rapidly till the loop was tight about him as he sat astride in the bight, and then he began to swing himself to and fro, describing a longer and longer arc till he found that he could reach.

Then with a sudden desperate movement he flung himself forward and grasped Roylance round the waist, seizing the line the midshipman held with his teeth, too; and then as, with the horror of despair, Roylance exerted his failing strength to get a grip of the bight of the hanging rope, Syd loudly shouted--

"Now, my lads, run them up." It was just in time.

In spite of the rocks and dangerous nature of the top of the cliff, the men, who had been waiting, started away from the edge, the rope hissed in running over the limestone, and Roylance and his brave rescuer were literally s.n.a.t.c.hed up ten feet as the shark made its second attack, but only to fall back into the sea with a mighty splash.

"Haul now!" cried Syd, excitedly, for the men could go no farther.

"No, no, avast! avast!" came up hoa.r.s.ely from between the sailor's teeth, as he and Roylance swung to and fro just above the maddened shark, which began to swim in a circle.

"Stop!" roared Syd. "Can you hold on, sir?" said the sailor. "Yes,"

said Roylance. "Then here goes. Loose the line, sir." His hands were free, and he had taken the tow-rope now from his teeth.

Hardly knowing what he did Roylance obeyed, and with the rapidity taught by much handling of hemp, the sailor pa.s.sed the end of the tow-rope through the bight of that which supported them, and then sent it through again, and secured it with a knot.

It was just in time, for as he drew through the end and tugged at it, the line began to tighten, and draw them out of the perpendicular, then more and more away from the rock as the boat still glided away.

"All right, sir, I've got you now," cried the sailor, clasping Roylance about the waist. "Now then, get your legs 'cross mine, and put your arms round my neck and the rope too. That's your sort. Glad I saved your end from going after all that trouble."

"Ready below?" cried Syd, as he looked down. "Well, no, sir," said the sailor, "I wouldn't haul yet, or t'other line might part.--Did you make it well fast aboard the boat, sir?" he continued to Roylance.

The latter nodded his head, and sat gazing down, shuddering, at the shark.

"Then you'd best wait, sir," shouted the man, as they were drawn up higher and higher, swinging gently like a counterpoise. "You see our weight eases it off like on the boat, and we may get her yet."

It seemed possible, for its rate was checked, but the slow deliberate glide still went on a little, flattening the curve formed by the two lines extending from the deck of the boat to the top of the rocks, fifty feet above the sea.

"One moment, Mr Roylance, sir," said the man, as coolly as if he were in the rigging of the ship, and not suspended by a thin rope over the jaws of a monstrous shark. "I want to get my legs round facing that cliff there. That's your sort. Now if your line gives way, as I'm feared it will--one minute: yes, the knot's fast; that won't draw--I say, if the rope gives way we shall go down again the rocks with a spang, but don't you mind; it'll only be a swing, and I'll fend us off with my feet. My! we're getting tight now. Look out, sir, we're going."

But the rope did not break, for seeing how dangerous the strain was becoming, Syd ordered the men behind him to ease off a little, and then a little more and a little more, till the progress of the water-logged vessel was gradually checked, and as they felt that the worst of the strain was over, the men on the cliff gave a cheer.

"Steady there, steady!" cried Terry, angrily, and the men murmured.

"Silence there!" cried Syd. "Now, my lads, I think you may begin to haul."

The men obeyed, and by the exercise of a great deal of caution the first rope was drawn slowly hand over hand up the cliff till Roylance's head appeared. Syd extended his hands to his help, and the midshipman climbed over the edge and sat down in the hot sunshine in his drenched clothes, looking white and haggard, as one looks after a terrible escape from death.

The next minute the sailor was on the cliff, looking none the worse for his adventure, but pretty well drenched by contact with Roylance's dripping clothes.

Then a little more hauling took place, till the men could get a good hold of the line Roylance had brought ash.o.r.e, in the midst of which the latter suddenly sprang up, looked over the edge of the cliff, and catching sight of his enemy, he picked up the biggest piece of stone he could lift and hurled it down. It fell with a mighty splash in the water, and as chance had it, for little could be said for the aim, right down upon the shark, which turned up directly after, and then recovered itself and swam laboriously away.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

"You made me feel horribly bad, Roy," whispered Syd, hastily. "How could you do such a fearfully dangerous thing?"