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The Pirate Shark Part 11

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"Not right away, though," added Mart, wondering at the looks and the question. "We're goin' to see the diving first. Later on we'll go ash.o.r.e after a tiger."

"Give way, there," ordered Borden quietly, but as the four oars dipped Mart caught an odd glance exchanged among the men. He wondered idly what they were thinking of, but they were close on the island now and he was too eager to be ash.o.r.e to waste any time in vain speculation.

At length the boat ran up on the clean white sand, all leaped out, and she was at once pulled up. Dailey volunteered to stay with her, and the other three men started off to wander on their own account, while the two boys, arranging to be back in an hour or so, started across to the seaward side. The brief ride in the hot sun had quite cured Bob of his romantic notions regarding the rifle, which he now left in the boat, for it was a heavy weight and he had lost his desire to shoot when Mart suggested that it would only alarm those aboard the yacht.

It was ebb tide, and as they gained the opposite side of the narrow island and came out upon the long reaches of white sand, the wild delight of the boys was unrestrained. They were in a new world. Even the trees were crimson, there was no lack of wonderful but ill-smelling flowers, and among the bushes and trees fluttered b.u.t.terflies of gorgeous hues. But out on the sands they forgot all this.

They found sh.e.l.ls by the score, such sh.e.l.ls as they had never seen, of all colors and hues. Then, in a little bay of the sh.o.r.e, Mart stumbled on a starfish, deep red, with rich black bosses, and Bob splashed into a pool to extricate two small but very gaudy sponges.

Then there were smaller fragments of coral, ruby red and white, and oyster sh.e.l.ls--some brick-red, others of mixed and more gorgeous hues--while more complex sh.e.l.ls whose names the boys could not guess lay strewn about indiscriminately with fragments of streaming seaweed. Then Bob wandered ahead, and Mart saw him turn with a cautious gesture, motioning to him.

Mart stuffed the starfish into his pocket and caught up his all but forgotten camera. When he joined Bob at one side of the little bay and looked through the bushes at the sh.o.r.e beyond, he understood. For there was a long stretch of mingled coral and sand exposed by the low tide, and perhaps fifty yards distant were two birds--curlews--running toward the boys with nervous, jerky motions. They were furtively picking up crabs, and Mart quickly set up his camera and focused it. But the instant he began to turn the crank, the two birds ceased their antics.

With an inquiring pipe, they looked toward the slight click; then one of them desperately s.n.a.t.c.hed up a crab and both flew off together.

"By golly!" exclaimed Mart. "I got 'em anyhow! Let's go see the crabs!"

They found them--big gray fellows that scuttled away or disappeared in the sand as the boys approached. Try as they would they could not catch one, and being unable to dig, they finally gave up, tired and winded.

"Say, do you like raw oysters?" exclaimed Mart, while they were resting in the hot sand.

"You bet!" returned Bob. "Why?"

"Well, look out there where that coral shows."

Perhaps twenty feet from the edge of the water protruded the low ragged edges of a coral reef, and Bob gained his feet instantly. The water inside the reef was only a few inches deep, and even from where they stood they could make out splotches against the coral that told of oysters.

Without a word Bob led the way, Mart following hastily. Getting their shoes wet mattered little, for they would dry again in five minutes of walking in the blistering sand, and when they finally stood on the coral reef they soon had torn half a dozen good-sized oysters from their perch and waded in to sh.o.r.e again.

"They look good," said Mart, gazing doubtfully at the tightly-closed gray-green sh.e.l.ls. "How you goin' to open 'em?"

"With a knife," grinned Bob, pulling out his heavy pocket-knife.

He went to work, and remained at work for five minutes. At the end of that time he gazed disgustedly at his hacked knife blade and gave up in despair. Mart suggested warming the oysters over a fire.

"Good idea, Mart!" cried Bob, springing up. "We'll eat a couple, then take a mess back to dad, eh?"

They soon had a small fire of dry bush alight, and under the influence of its heat they got two or three of the oysters open. Each of the boys swallowed one--then they looked at each other blankly.

"Didn't taste right to me," declared Mart.

"Me neither. I never ate any like that in 'Frisco, by juniper!"

They unanimously decided that they would not eat any more, and before they had stamped out their fire Bob found that he wanted very much to inspect a scarlet-leaved tree a short distance back in the bush. Mart saw another tree that he wanted to look at, and after fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed, two very pale and disgusted boys crawled out to the warm beach again and lay there recuperating.

"By golly, I don't want any more of those oysters," said Mart, gaining his feet after a little. Picking up the offending molluscs, he hurled them out again into the sea, and Bob grinned faintly.

"No," he agreed, "I guess Ah Sing's cooking'll do me for quite a spell.

By juniper, that oyster must have gone down wrong!"

"So did mine," replied Mart, "but it come up again--right. I move we hit for the boat. I've had enough o' this, by golly! It's as Borden said; things ain't what they seem, not by a long shot!"

With that, they hit across the island for the lagoon side once more.

They pa.s.sed several trees which bore most attractive-looking fruits, and berry-laden bushes, but beyond pausing once or twice to consume a few feet of his reel at opportune points, Mart paid no attention. He and Bob had learned a lesson and learned it well.

By the time they emerged on the inner sh.o.r.e of the island, however, they were feeling perfectly recovered once more. Here the sh.o.r.e was flat and level, and as they looked about for the boat, it appeared a few hundred yards to their left. Dailey was lying asleep in its shadow, and out in the lagoon itself the _Seamew_ was swinging lazily at her cable. There was no sign of any prau bringing back Jerry Smith, and the other three men who had landed were not in sight.

"Where are the men gone?" asked Bob, as Dailey sat up at their approach.

The leathery-faced seaman waved a hand toward the upper end of the island.

"They went off that way, sir. Ain't showed up yet."

"Well, let's row up and meet 'em," suggested Mart. Bob agreed at once, and all three piled into the boat as they shoved it out.

Mart and Dailey took an oar apiece, Bob reclining in the stern, and they slowly rowed up toward the far end of the island, where was a wide channel connecting the lagoon with the open sea beyond.

As they rowed, the two boys were lost in wonder at sight of the glories below them, for here the water was clear as crystal, though Dailey declared it to be a couple of fathoms deep or more. Sponges, marine fans, fish, coral, and all the under-water life lay open to them, in colors more gorgeous and magnificent than either boy had ever dreamed of. Bob declared it far ahead of the Santa Catalina sea-gardens, and Mart could hardly row for his wondering admiration; but he was finally recalled to himself by a quick exclamation from Bob.

"Hold up there, both o' you! What's that ahead?"

Mart and Dailey glanced around, and an echoing cry broke from the seaman. Fifty yards ahead of them and slowly cutting the water in their direction, was a black triangle that seemed part of some machine, so evenly and steadily did it move along. But the size of it! Mart guessed instantly that it was the dorsal fin of a shark, but he had seen no fin of such size before.

"It's the Pirate Shark, Holly!" he cried suddenly, and plunged down for the rifle. Bob stooped for it at the same instant, but Mart was too quick for him. He rose again to find Dailey looking at them, aghast.

"Where might you lads 'a' heard o' the Pirate Shark?" queried the seaman hoa.r.s.ely. Mart had no time to waste on him.

"None of your business," he returned sharply. "Keep steady there--"

"You'll waste the bullet, Mart," and Bob stopped him. "It'll simply glance off the water at this angle. Hold on till we get closer!"

"Don't you do it, sir," implored Dailey, his leathery face suddenly pale. "It's the Pirate Shark, all right--don't you fire on him, sir! My word on it, Mr. Judson, it'll be a bad day for us all--"

"Oh, cut out that superst.i.tious talk, Dailey," broke in Mart impatiently. "He's a shark, and a big one; pirate or not, if I can't get to him I'll put a bullet through that big fin of his."

"That's the idea!" exclaimed Bob. "But quit talking or we'll scare him off. Hit the fin, Mart--don't waste time tryin' to make the bullet penetrate the water unless we get up close alongside."

Mart, quivering with excitement, got a bead on that tremendous black fin which was now turning as if to proceed across their bows. It would be futile to attempt shooting the shark at such a distance, for as Bob said the bullet would simply glance from the surface of the water.

Suddenly Mart perceived that the fin was turning away from them.

Instantly he sighted for its center, made sure of his bead, and fired.

He saw the fin flutter wildly, then there was a great swirl of waters, and as the heavy detonation rang over the lagoon the black fin vanished amid the foam.

"Hit!" yelled Bob. "There are the men, Mart!"

Indeed, the figures of the three seaman were visible, running down the sand, and Mart waved a hand at the yacht as he sat down, for he knew that Swanson and the captain would be watching. But the greatest thought in his mind was that black fin. The Pirate Shark was a reality! They had seen its "black flag" and he had sent a bullet through it!

None of the three spoke as they pulled the heavy boat in to the beach where the men waited. As they approached, the three seamen splashed out and piled aboard, Mart taking his place again in the stern. The first question, naturally, was for the cause of the firing.

"We saw the Pirate Shark," answered Dailey. "We put a bullet through its fin."

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