CHASED BY A SHARK. 



C. S. HANDCOCK. 



In 187- I was serving as a midshipman 

 on board the clipper ship O. O., of Liver- 

 pool, bound to San Francisco. We had 

 been nearly 4 months on the trip, and no 

 one but a sailor, whose whole existence is 

 passed on the ocean, can realize the utter 

 monotony of a life on a sailing ship. We 

 had passed few ships, but had encountered 

 an overabundance of heavy gales. Both 

 officers and men felt the strain of constant 

 battling with adverse winds and' heavy seas. 

 Finally we caught the Northeast trade 

 winds, and, having a good sailing breeze, 

 were congratulating ourselves that perhaps 

 in 2 weeks we would be in port, with all 

 the delight of home letters, fresh provis- 

 ions and long nights of rest. 



At 8 o'clock one morning I went on deck 

 lo relieve the watch. The ship lay in a vast 

 mirror, still and glassy. The sky was 

 clear, and by 11 o'clock the heat was over- 

 powering. The pitch in the seams of the 

 deck actually bubbled, and there was no 

 sign of even a gentle breeze to relieve the 

 oppressive heat. 



At noon I was relieved and, going down 

 to my cabin, I proposed a swim to my 

 messmates. Six of us hastily prepared for 

 a dive into the ocean. 



How deliciously cool the water was, and 

 how buoyant it seemed, as if no one could 

 sink in it. 



Swimming well ahead of the ship, I saw 

 her for the first time as she lay in all her 

 beauty ; for what is more beautiful than a 

 full rigged ship? Alas! they are daily 

 growing rarer ! 



My bosom swelled with pride to think I 

 was one of her officers. How beautiful 

 she looked ! All her brass work flashed 

 back the sun's rays, and her snow white 

 canvas towered above the hull as stately as 

 that of any yacht. It was a picture I never 

 have forgotten. 



Suddenly I was startled by one of the 

 men on the ship's forecastle excitedly call- 

 ing out, 



"For God's sake come aboard ! A shark ! 

 A shark!" 



A quick glance over my shoulder caught 

 the sinuous black fin of the sailor's dreaded 

 enemy, gliding through the still water. 

 Thoroughly frightened, I swam as I never 

 swam before, every nerve strained to its ut- 

 most, to reach the haven of the ship. I saw 

 my comrades hastily climbing up the rope 

 ladders quickly thrown over the ship's 

 bows. All hands had turned out at the 

 watch's cry, and hasty preparations were 

 made to lower a boat. It was but a few 

 feet more to safety, but oh, God ! how close 



17 



that fin was! A few more strokes and I 

 caught the ladder. Eager hands drew me 

 quickly up. There was a rush, a swirl of 

 the water, and a monstrous shark dashed 

 after me, heaven be praised just grazing 

 my heel, as I was drawn on deck, nearly 

 fainting from exhaustion and fright. 



About 2 o'clock I was again on deck, the 

 heat making my quarters under the poop 

 almost unbearable. Leaning over the rail, 

 1 was admiring the clearness of the water; 

 and, thinking of my late narrow escape, I 

 was vowing never again to bathe in shark 

 infested waters, when I noticed 2 pilotfish, 

 ever faithful companions of the shark, com- 

 ing from under the ship's counter. I knew 

 my late enemy was not far off, perhaps 

 hoping I would tumble overboard, so he 

 could have the pleasure of making a meal 

 of me. 



Calling one of the men, I told him to get 

 a shark hook and we would try to capture 

 the monster. The man soon returned with 

 the hook, shaped like an ordinary fish hook, 

 but of great size. It was made of the finest 

 steel, and had a shank nearly 2 feet long, 

 to which was attached a 6-foot steel chain. 

 To the end of that we bent a manilla rope 

 heavy enough to lift a bullock. 



Baiting the hook with a large lump of 

 salt pork, I threw it overboard. With a 

 heavy splash it struck the water and in a 

 moment the pilotfish darted toward it. 

 After examining it, they returned to the 

 ship's counter, as if to tell Mr. Shark of 

 the dainty morsel awaiting his pleasure. A 

 second later the weird gray form darted 

 through 'the clear depths. We could see 

 him open his cruel, teeth-filled jaws as he 

 turned on his back, and in an instant the 

 pork disappeared down his capacious maw. 



Then the fun commenced. The hook 

 had evidently obtained a perfect hold, and 

 the struggles of the monster tried the stout 

 rope to its utmost. All hands were on deck 

 by that time, for it takes little to rouse a 

 sailor, and any excitement to break the 

 weary monotony of his life is hailed with 

 pleasure. 



A block and tackle were hastily rigged 

 and several stout men soon hauled the ugly 

 brute up the ship's side on board. One of 

 the men put a handspike in its mouth. Its 

 jaws closed with a vicelike grip it was im- 

 possible to loosen, the great teeth crunch- 

 ing deep into the hard wood. Care was 

 taken to keep away from the terrific blows 

 of its tail, that would break a man's leg as 

 easily as a clay pipe stem can be broken by 

 one's fingers. 

 Hauling him well forward, we promptly 



