14:2 BASS FISHING. 



before they rushed on their prey. If they attacked 

 us, we were gone ! Not a moment was to be lost. 

 It was one of those frequent cases, in which we find 

 safety in audacity. Repeating my order to Cain, 

 and grasping my spear in both hands, I rushed 

 upon the leading shark, and struck it down vio- 

 lently across his nose shouting, at the same time, 

 at the top of my voice while Cain, in a perfect 

 agony of fear, gave a loud yell, and fell at full 

 length in the water? The manoeuvre succeeded; 

 the sharks ran off for deep water, and we took the 

 crown of the ridge, nor looked back, until we had 

 accomplished the one hundred and fifty yards over 

 which we had to wade before we regained the 

 bank ! 



To be devoured by sharks, is one of the last deaths 

 that I should choose. At this distance of time, I 

 do not think of the adventure without a shudder. 

 The sea is still as transparent as on that day, the 

 sea-shells still as bright, the graceful bass still pants 

 as he glides doubtingly by ; but these things tempt 

 me not to renew my sport. My mind reverts to 

 other objects: the jagged barb of the sting-ray, 

 lying in wait for his prey, and the outstretched jaws 

 of the all-devouring shark, in which I had so nar- 

 rowly escaped being ingulfed! Who can endure 

 the thought of being sepulchred in the " maw and 



