THE WILD. 



erect stiffness, as the creature eyes you I You 

 shrink back from the terrific implement, no longer 

 wondering that the stoutest limb of man should 

 be severed in a moment by such chirurgery. But 

 the eyes! those horrid eyes I it is the eyes that 

 make the shark's countenance what it is — the 

 very embodiment of Satanic malignity. Half- 

 concealed beneath the bony brow, the little green 

 eye gleams with so peculiar an expression of 

 hatred, such a concentration of fiendish malice, — 

 of quiet, calm, settled villany, that no other 

 countenance that I have ever seen at all resembles. 

 Though I have seen many a shark, I could never 

 look at that eye without feeling my flesh creep, as 

 it were, on my bones. 



How eerie (to use an expressive northern term, 

 for which we have no equivalent) must be the 

 scene presented to a few forlorn mariners com- 

 mitted to an open boat in the midst of the broad 

 southern sea, a thousand miles from land, when 

 by night these obscene monsters come gliding up 

 alongside, keeping hated company ! Cleaving the 

 phosphorescent sea, their bodies are invested with 

 an elfish light, and a bluish gleam trails behind. 

 Nothing strikes more terror into the hearts of the 

 poor ship-bereft seamen than such uninvited com- 

 panions. They make no noise: as silently as 

 ghosts they steal along; now disappearing for a 

 few minutes; then there again; throughout the 

 dreary night they maintain their vigij, filling the 

 failing heart with auguries of death. 



What do they there? Ah! their horribly un- 

 erring instinct has taught them that such an 

 object too often yields them the meal they are 

 seeking. They silently demand the corpse that 

 fatigue and suffering, exposure and privation, are 

 surely and swiftly preparing for them. They well 

 211 



