GLORY AT ENTEDEBIR I45 



there waiting for the boat, my shoulders were hardly out of 

 the water, but the sea was as friendly and calm as a bath-tub. 



I saw the boat come out from behind a rock and make 

 straight for me. My friends had seen me and had turned the 

 bows in my direction. The outboard was chugging merrily. 

 It could not have been more than thirty yards away, when, 

 for no special reason, I took a look underwater (I had not 

 yet taken off my mask) . I was just in time to see a shark 

 coming at my legs from the same direction as the boat but 

 at high speed. It must have been six feet long but I only 

 saw the dark brown of a big square head. The incident 

 lasted no more than a fraction of a second. I had not time to 

 make even the slightest reaction. My gun was loaded. I 

 could have fired. I could have jumped to one side. I could 

 have shouted. But I did nothing; seeing the thing advance 

 upon me I was petrified. It was tw^o feet from me when it 

 jerked violently, as if seized with an unexpected terror at 

 meeting me on the road, and flew off at a right angle without 

 touching me. 



I swallowed the lump in my throat and got into the boat, 

 feeling myself to make sure I was still in one piece. So the 

 shark had been more afraid than I. Evidently frightened by 

 the droning, vibrating engine which unknowingly followed 

 him, he was seeking refuge in the lagoon when he came up 

 against two horrible, gigantic, white pincers rising to the 

 surface, and that huge, round, dark eye that glared at him 

 pitilessly from above. 



That day, everything went well. Cecco killed a stupendous 

 white-bellied stork (the fairy-tale kind) and found the nest 

 of a giant heron with three white eggs inside as big as turnips. 

 We caught yet another grouper by line, and Gigi had had a 



