CHASED BY A SHARK.

A REMINISCENCE OF THE RED SEA.

BY DAVID KER.

"What a jolly place for a swim! I'll have one as soon as my dinner's digested."

"Take my advice, and don't do nothin' of the sort; for if you do, as sure as eggs are eggs, there'll be somethin' else digested besides your dinner."

"How do you mean?"

"Sharks!"

And with this impressive conclusion, the worthy Captain turned on his heel and walked off.

We had run three parts of the way down the Red Sea, and were now anchored close to the Arabian shore, just off the Turkish fort of Koomfidah, the low massive wall of which stood out white and bare in the blistering sunshine, while beyond it stretched, far as the eye could reach, the dim immensity of the great central desert.

Our vessel lay fully a mile and a half from the shore, although it seemed within a stone's-throw in the clearness of that wonderful atmosphere. But between us and the interminable waste of flat sandy beach the clear bright water was flecked with a broad band of white, very much like a streak of thick cream, marking the whereabouts of one of those treacherous coral reefs which make the Red Sea as dangerous a place as any in the world.

Outside the reef where we lay the sea was still heaving restlessly from the effects of the gale that had blown overnight; but the broad shallow lagoon within was as calm as a mill-pond. Half a dozen gaunt, swarthy Arabs were splashing and wallowing in the smooth water with shouts of delight, which were very tantalizing to us as we "stood on the burning deck," with the very pitch melting between the planks under the intolerable heat. Others still were trooping down to the beach in their long white robes, like a train of ghosts, from the little group of tumble-down mud hovels which, clustering around the outer wall of the fort, represented the "town" of Koomfidah.

Their bathing-place was of course safe enough, for no shark could enter there; but as if on purpose to show us how little they cared for this, several of the nearest Arabs scrambled across the reef and began to swim toward us; and in a twinkling the water around our ship swarmed with dusky figures (including not a few round-faced "pickaninnies" who could not have been more than six or seven years old at the outside), plashing and paddling about as merrily as if no such thing as a shark had ever been heard of.

"Some o' them chaps'll be gettin' picked up, if they don't look out," said a young sailor, looking down at them over the bows.

"Not they!" rejoined a veteran "salt," who had made the Red Sea voyage many a time before. "Sharks never touches a Harab."

"Nor a darky neither," added another. "I've see'd the darkies in the West Injies, jist afore they dived, put tar on the palms o' their 'ands where they was rubbed white, so as to give the sharks nothin' to aim at, like."

"I take it them Harabs ain't good enough to suit Mr. Shark's taste, and mayhap it's the same way with the darkies," said No. 1, with a grin.

And the two old sea-dogs, perching themselves upon the bulwarks, watched with a look of quiet amusement the whirl of lean brown limbs that kept darting to and fro like shoals of fish through the cool, clear water.

"You see," remarked No. 1, "there ain't a sign o' their bein' touched, and yet there's lots o' sharks close by, I'll be bound. But if you or me, Bill, was to jump in there, we wouldn't ha' touched the water afore there'd be 'arf a dozen o' them sea-lawyers at us all to once."

This conversation, following so closely upon the Captain's warning, certainly did not encourage me to try a swim in these perilous waters, and a little incident which occurred that very afternoon encouraged me still less.

I was standing near the binnacle, watching the bursting of the waves upon the reef, when one of them suddenly broke into a high jet of glittering spray, flinging off a shower of tiny rainbows in every direction. A second glance showed me that the rainbows were a shoal of flying-fish, which plunged again the next moment, and then leaped a second time into the air, flashing and sparkling till the whole sea appeared to be on fire.

All of a sudden, just as the graceful little sea-fairies were passing close to our stern, up through the bright, smooth water shot a huge shovel-like snout and sharp three-cornered back fin, seeming to come right from under the ship itself, and in the very midst of the fluttering column appeared a monstrous black shark, at least sixteen feet from snout to tail. One snap of his powerful jaws took in a round dozen of the terrified fish, which scattered in all directions, two or three of them leaping even clear over our bulwarks, and falling upon the deck, where the sailors inhospitably seized and cooked them for supper.

This last incident was more effectual in keeping me from risking a "dip" than either the Captain's warning or that of the sailors. But what was to be done? To be roasted as if by a slow fire for six or seven days together in a temperature of 117 in the shade, with this splendid cool sea always before me to invite me to a bath, was not to be thought of, while to escape this martyrdom by going down the throat of a shark would be a case of "out of the frying-pan into the fire."

At last a bright idea struck me. One of our quarter-boats, which was getting rather shaky, had been moored astern, and allowed to fill with water, in order to keep it from being split by the heat of the sun. Here, then, was a first-rate bath ready-made, which, if not exactly big enough for a swim, would serve admirably for every other purpose. The first experiment was a complete success, and from that time regularly every morning I slid down the mooring-rope, and had a "duck" in my floating tub, to the unbounded amusement of the Arab boys, who came splashing and chattering around me.

In this way things went on up to the very day of our departure from Koomfidah. That morning I rose earlier than usual from my "luxurious couch" (which consisted of a spare sail on the planks of the after-deck) to have just one more bath before leaving. But it is always that "just one more" which does all the mischief; and as a matter of course, after being prudent and cautious up to the very last moment, I ended by committing an imprudence which all but cost me my life.

The sea, as I well remember, seemed cooler and more tempting than ever that day, and since the appearance of that energetic gentleman who had such a good appetite for flying-fish, no sharks had been seen except at a great distance. In short, I got tired of wallowing from side to side of my boat-bath, like a hippopotamus in a tank, and decided to scramble out of it, and have a swim round the ship itself.

Twice, thrice, four times, I made the circuit of the vessel, and then, seeing no sign of danger, determined to strike farther out to sea. I was already about a hundred yards from the ship's bow, when I suddenly heard a shout that made me feel creepy all over.

"Look out! here's a shark!"

Instantly came a rush in the water beside me, and up started between me and the ship the big ungainly head, the grinning teeth, the small, narrow, cruel eye, the huge pointed fin, like some ugly vision in a nightmare.

Luckily the shark's overlapping snout forces him to turn on his side in order to bite, or all would have been over at the first rush. A sudden turn foiled the monster, but the next moment he was round and at me again like an arrow. And so we went plunging to and fro, churning the smooth blue water into foam, while the shouts of the sailors (who had clustered like bees along the ship's side) seemed to rend the very sky.

But my enemy was too hungry to be scared by noise, and although we were gradually nearing the ship, always kept himself between. My breath began to fail, and I felt that before the boat could be lowered I should be past help, for the shark had turned short round and met me front to front.

There was a loud halloo from above—something splashed heavily into the water—and then the sea all round me became a whirl of foam. A billet of wood, flung from the upper deck, had hit the shark on his tenderest point, the snout; and before he could rally from this stunning blow, I had seized the anchor-chain and was safe on board.

"Captain," said I, as the worthy man came up just in time to witness my ascent, "I shall certainly take your advice after this."

"Dare say you will, when it's too late to be of any use!" growled the uncourteous skipper. "I always thought you was a fool, and now I'm sure of it."

This was certainly not complimentary, but on reflection I was much of the same opinion myself.