THE SHARKS OF NARBOROUGH 177 



my little periscope I saw what, after all, is the most 

 joyous thing in life, an old friend in a new guise — 

 another great golden grouper just behind me, re- 

 vealed by his reflected image on my ascending 

 breath. 



To my left the rope from the anchor weight led 

 up in a graceful curve to the distant, dark silhou- 

 ette of the boat. Now and then a window opened 

 in the ruffled ceiling and framed the anxious face 

 of my faithful assistant peering down, on the look- 

 out for approaching danger. The face vanished, 

 the window slammed shut as the water-glass was 

 withdrawn, and I was again visually lost to the 

 upper world. 



Two small, black forms approached from the off- 

 shore side of my aquatic sky, looking from below, 

 like the keels of funny, diminutive tug-boats, and 

 driven by a pair of most efficient propellers. These 

 were rather turbines of sorts, furling and unfurling 

 in a curling, spiral manner, which offered the most 

 and the least resistance respectively to the water. 

 Long rudder tails, two slender, sharp beaks and 

 sinuous snaky necks came into view, and a swirl 

 sent both birds into my world — meaning complete 

 submersion for them. There followed a chase which 

 no man's eyes have ever seen before — a pair of 

 flightless cormorants pursuing a scarlet sea bass — 

 viewed from below. The fish saw them coming and 

 fled at full speed, not in a straight line but in a 

 series of zigzags, perhaps, like a chased hen, see- 

 ing the pursuers first out of one eye on one side, 

 then out of the other apparently on that side. The 



