Beasts Royal: Twelve Tales of Adventure. Patrick O’Brian

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ however, as there were many other sharks, and the divers were very cautious.

      One day, when a whaler called at Waitoa, 206 followed it as it left, and fed on the scraps which were thrown overboard.

      The twenty-foot man-eater was not proud, and he would eat bad salt pork or potato peelings with the humblest dog-fish; he would often eat the humble dog-fish too.

      No. 206 was always hungry; he would eat anything, including tin cans; given time he could digest them, and even thrive on them. The only time that his immense appetite was quite sated was when the whaler, which was in luck, caught three great sperm whales. They were towed along by the ship, and 206, in company with a host of other sharks, fed long and full, and the two little pilot fish which guided him to his prey became fat and slow.

      The whaler, however, sailed south until she came to the icy Antarctic seas where the great whales bred, and thither the tiger-shark could not follow her, as he was used to the tropical seas in which he had been hatched.

      He left the whaler when another ship crossed her path and followed the new ship, which was a slow, grain-carrying four-masted sailing ship, schooner rigged. She was from Sweden, and her name was the Björn Anderssen.

      The tiger-shark followed her for many days until it happened that a Friday fell on the thirteenth of the month.

      Now as Friday the thirteenth was notoriously a bitterly unlucky day, the wooden-legged sea-cook on board the Björn had felt justified in fortifying himself with rum, and he left his galley to go forward to the fo’c’sle, where one of the hands was known to possess a bottle.

      Hardly had he left his galley when the Björn ran her head into a comber and shipped a green sea; the waist-high wall of water swept the cook overboard.

      The watchful pilot fish darted ahead of the shark. Following his two brightly-coloured guides, 206 came upon the unfortunate sea-cook struggling in the water.

      The triangular black dorsal fin cut the surface, travelling incredibly fast towards the doomed man; five yards off the fin disappeared, and the shark’s white belly flashed in the sun as he turned over to engulf the man.

      The cook had seen his death coming for him in the shape of a great fish, and he had fainted before it reached him, so he did not feel the fierce teeth as they sheered through flesh and bone like butter.

      It was all over before a boat could be launched, and all that was left to tell of the unfortunate sea-cook was a rapidly dissolving red stain in the sea.

      The cook’s wooden leg troubled the tiger-shark for some time, but he soon forgot it.

      The next day the sailors took a great barbed hook and bent it to a thin steel cable, and fastening a lump of salt pork to it they threw it overboard.

      No. 206 was the only large shark following the Björn so they felt fairly sure of hooking the right fish.

      The sight of 206 – and, for that matter, of any shark – was not at all good, unlike his nose, which was marvellously keen, and so he always let himself be guided by his pilot fish, who lived with him, sheltering behind his gills in times of trouble.

      They had keen sight, and the shark could easily follow their brightly-coloured bodies, although he guided himself towards his prey to a considerable extent by his sharp sense of smell.

      When the salt pork was dropped overboard the pilot fish darted forward, leading 206 to the sinking meat.

      The sailors could plainly see the pork in the calm, clear water. All at once the tiger-shark glided out from beneath the keel and took the meat. The sailors all pulled on the cable together in order to strike the hook well into the shark’s mouth. It lodged firmly between two of his many rows of teeth.

      As soon as 206 felt the hook he dived, but the seamen had the cable wound round a winch, and that checked the cable, pulling the shark up short.

      No. 206 tugged for some time before he understood that he was held by the cable. Meanwhile the sailors were winding in the line on the winch. For a few moments the shark let himself be dragged upwards, and then the sense of danger penetrated into his bewildered brain.

      Instantly he set his great weight against the upward motion, but still the men gained, drawing the cable in foot by foot, rewinding it on the winch.

      No. 206 felt frightened for the first time in his life, and he lashed the water desperately, pulling against the hook. He did not gain, but he stopped the winding of the cable. He could not keep up the tension, however, and slowly the rewinding recommenced.

      The bo’sun went below for an axe with which to cut the shark’s spine when they had it on deck.

      Fighting every inch, the tiger-shark was slowly nearing the surface when he realized that if he did not get off the hook quickly, he would never get off it at all.

      The pilot fish were circling distractedly, but they were quite useless now.

      Suddenly 206 gave way and shot up to the surface, flying clear of the water in a prodigious leap. He came down with his full weight on the taut cable.

      The great jerk unseated the winch, which tore free from the deck and flew over the side, carrying with it three of the men who were holding the cable.

      Instantly the bo’sun, who had an axe in his hand, ran to the nearest boat and cut the ropes holding it to the davits.

      He and the first mate jumped down into it and reached the men before 206 had finished wondering how he had got free, for the hook was still in his mouth.

      The iron winch, sinking rapidly, gave a hard downward pull on the hook, which tore free, taking some teeth with it.

      It took the shark some time to realize that he was free of the hook, but when it got through to his confused brain he went back to his old place under the keel of the ship, where his pilot fish rejoined him.

      Strangely enough he did not associate the ship with danger, but only salt pork, which he decided never to touch again.

      The sailors, when they saw that the shark still followed the ship, took a stouter cable and hook.

      The master, however, insisted that the capstan should be used, for although he fully agreed that the cook should be revenged, he hardly liked to account for the loss of another winch to the owners.

      On the next day they dropped the pork overboard as before, and the whole crew from the captain down watched it as it sank. No. 206 came from under the keel, but he would not touch the meat.

      Even when it was thrown over with the offal from the galley he picked it out and would not touch it. For three days the sailors tried to make him bite, but without success.

      He had got it firmly fixed in his head that salt pork was not good for him.

      Then one of the ship’s three cats died, and the captain had the idea of changing the bait. Accordingly the cat’s body was thrown overboard one clear morning.

      No. 206 came from beneath the keel and snapped it up without the least suspicion. Instantly the hook struck hard, and the shark knew that he was caught again.

      He dived so quickly that the sailors were taken unawares, and let about twenty fathoms СКАЧАТЬ