A STORY OF SIX SHARKS. 101 



as sardines are in the Bay of Biscay, or sprats ia 

 the North Sea. In spite of all our efiForts, the fish 

 would not bite, although we tried bait of all kinds ; 

 and yet we could feel constantly that violent con- 

 vulsion of the line which announces the presence 

 of a fish, but which we vainly sought to account 

 for. We changed our place twenty times ; but still 

 the same thing. At last the captain of the boat 

 seized me by the arm, and said (with as tragic an air 

 as if he were acting in a melodrama), " Look down 

 there!" 



" "What is it ? A kraken, or a sea-serpent ? " 



"No — and yet it is something quite as bad." 



"What?" 



" A shark." 



"All the better," said I; "the brute shall pay 

 for all the blue fishes he has frightened away." 



My companion, who was a little bit of a Miss 

 Molly, objected that we had nothing to do with 

 shark-fishing, and that we should be running a risk 

 without any advantage. 



"PU answer for everything," chimed in the 

 fisherman. "Here is a line that will do very well; 

 only instead of trying to pull him on board, which 

 might upset the boat, we must drown him." 



" Drown him ! And how ? " 



" You shall see." 



Everybody knows the voracity of the shark. He 

 will SM'allow whatever is thrown at him. This one 



