The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisis

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER VII

  THE PIRATE'S WARNING

  When the lad awoke it was quite dark in the house, but there was nosound of rain. He went to the door and looked out upon a fairly clearnight. The storm was gone and he heard only a light wind rustlingthrough palms. There was no thunder of beating surf in the distance. Itwas a quiet sky and a quiet island.

  He went back and looked at the slaver. The man was asleep on his couch,but he was stirring a little, and he was hot with fever. Robert feltpity for him, cruel and blood-stained though he knew him to be. Besides,he was the only human companion he had, and he did not wish to be leftalone there. But he did not know what to do just then, and, lying downon the floor, he went to sleep again.

  When he awoke the second time day had come, and the slaver too wasawake, though looking very weak.

  "I've been watching you quite a while, Peter," he said. "You must haveslept fifteen or sixteen hours. Youth has a wonderful capacity forslumber and restoration. I dare say you're now as good as ever, andwondering where you'll find your breakfast. Well, when I built thishouse I didn't neglect the plenishings of it. Open the door next to youand you'll find boucan inside. 'Boucan,' as you doubtless know, is driedbeef, and from it we got our name the buccaneers, because in thebeginning we lived so much upon dried beef. Enough is in that closet tolast us a month, and there are herds of wild cattle on the island, aninexhaustible larder."

  "But we can't catch wild cattle with our hands," said Robert.

  The slaver laughed.

  "You don't think, Peter," he said, "that when I built a house here andfurnished it I neglected some of the most necessary articles. In theother closet you'll find weapons and ammunition. But deal first with theboucan."

  Robert opened the closet and found the boucan packed away in sheets orlayers on shelves, and at once he became ravenously hungry.

  "On a lower shelf," said the slaver, "you'll find flint and steel, andwith them it shouldn't be hard for a wilderness lad like you to start afire. There are also kettles, skillets and pans, and I think you knowhow to do the rest."

  Robert went to work on a fire. The wood, which was abundant outside, wasstill damp, but he had a strong clasp knife and he whittled a pile ofdry shavings which he succeeded in igniting with the flint and steel,though it was no light task, requiring both patience and skill. But thefire was burning at last and he managed to make in one of the kettlessome soup of the dried beef, which he gave to the captain. The man hadno appetite, but he ate a little and declared that he felt stronger.Then Robert broiled many strips for himself over the coals and ateravenously. He would have preferred a greater variety of food, but itwas better than a castaway had a right to expect.

  His breakfast finished, he continued his examination of the house, whichwas furnished with many things, evidently captured from ships. He foundin one of the closets a fine fowling piece, a hunting rifle, twoexcellent muskets, several pistols, ammunition for all the fire-arms anda number of edged weapons.

  "You see, Peter, you're fitted for quite an active defense shouldenemies come," said the slaver. "You'll admit, I think, that I've been agood housekeeper."

  "Good enough," said Peter. "Are there any medicines?"

  "You'll find some salves and ointments on the top shelf in the secondcloset, and you can make a poultice for this hurt of mine. Between youand me, Peter, I've less pain, but much more weakness, which is a badsign."

  "Oh, you'll be well in a few days," said Robert cheerfully. "One woundwon't carry off a man as strong as you are."

  "One wound always suffices, provided it goes in deep enough, but I thankyou for your rosy predictions, Peter. I think your good wishes aregenuinely sincere."

  Robert realized that they were so, in truth. In addition to the call ofhumanity, he had an intense horror of being left alone on the island,and he would fight hard to save the slaver's life. He compounded thepoultice with no mean skill, and, after bathing the wound carefully withfresh water from a little spring behind the hut, he applied it.

  "It's cooling, Peter, and I know it's healing, too," said the man, "butI think I'll try to go to sleep again. As long as I'm fastened to acouch that's about the only way I can pass the time. Little did I thinkwhen I built this house that I'd come here without a ship and without acrew to pass some helpless days."

  He shut his eyes. After a while, Robert, not knowing whether he wasasleep or not, took down the rifle, loaded it, and went out feeling thatit was high time he should explore his new domain.

  In the sunlight the island did not look forbidding. On the contrary, itwas beautiful. From the crest of the hill near the house he saw aconsiderable expanse, but the western half of the island was cut offfrom view by a higher range of hills. It was all in dark green foliage,although he caught the sheen of a little lake about two miles away. Asfar as he could see a line of reefs stretched around the coast, and thewhite surf was breaking on them freely.

  From the hill he went back to the point at which he and the captain hadbeen swept ashore, and, as he searched along the beach he found thebodies of all those who had been in the boat with them. He had beenquite sure that none of them could possibly have escaped, but it gavehim a shock nevertheless to secure the absolute proof that they weredead. He resolved if he could find a way to bury them in the sand beyondthe reach of the waves, but, for the present, he could do nothing, andhe continued along the shore several miles, finding its charactereverywhere the same, a gentle slope, a stretch of water, and beyond thatthe line of reefs on which the white surf was continually breaking,reefs with terrible teeth as he well knew.

  But it was all very peaceful now. The sea stretched away into infinitythe bluest of the blue, and a breeze both warm and stimulating came outof the west. Robert, however, looked mostly toward the north. Albany andhis friends now seemed a world away. He had been wrenched out of his oldlife by a sudden and unimaginable catastrophe. What were Tayoga andWillet doing now? How was the war going? For him so far as real life wasconcerned the war simply did not exist. He was on a lost island withonly a wounded man for company and the struggle to survive and escapewould consume all his energies.

  Presently he came to what was left of their boat. It was smashed badlyand half buried in the sand. At first he thought he might be able to useit again, but a critical examination showed that it was damaged beyondany power of his to repair it, and with a sigh he abandoned the thoughtof escape that way.

  He continued his explorations toward the south, and saw groves of wildbanana, the bushes or shrubs fifteen or twenty feet high, some of themwith ripe fruit hanging from them. He ate one and found it good, thoughhe was glad to know that he would not have to depend upon bananas whollyfor food.

  A mile to the south and he turned inland, crossing a range of low hills,covered with dense vegetation. As he passed among the bushes he kept hisrifle ready, not knowing whether or not dangerous wild animals were tobe found there. He had an idea they were lacking in both the Bahamas andthe West Indies, but not being sure, he meant to be on his guard.

  Before he reached the bottom of the slope he heard a puff, and then thesound of heavy feet. All his wilderness caution was alive in a moment,and, drawing back, he cocked the rifle. Then he crept forward, consciousthat some large wild beast was near. A few steps more and he realizedthat there were more than one. He heard several puffs and the heavy feetseemed to be moving about in an aimless fashion.

  He came to the edge of the bushes, and, parting them, he lookedcautiously from their cover. Then his apprehensions disappeared. Beforehim stretched a wide, grassy savanna and upon it was grazing a herd ofwild cattle, at least fifty in number, stocky beasts with long horns.Robert looked at them with satisfaction. Here was enough food on thehoof to last him for years. They might be tough, but he had experienceenough to make them tender when it came to fire and the spit.

  "Graze on in peace until I need you," he said, and crossing the savannahe found beyond, hidden at first from view by a fringe of forest, thelake that he had seen from th
e crest of the hill beside the house. Itcovered about half a square mile and was blue and deep. He surmised thatit contained fish good to eat, but, for the present he was content tolet them remain in the water. They, like the wild cattle, could wait.

  Feeling that he had been gone long enough, he went back to the house andfound the slaver asleep or in a stupor, and, when he looked at himclosely, he was convinced that it was more stupor than sleep. He wasvery pale and much wasted. It occurred suddenly to Robert that the manwould die and the thought gave him a great shock. Then, in very truth,he would be alone. He sat by him and watched anxiously, but the slaverdid not come back to the world for a full two hours.

  "Aye, Peter, you're there," he said. "As I've told you several times,you're a good lad."

  "Can I make you some more of the beef broth?" asked Robert.

  "I can take a little I think, though I've no appetite at all."

  "And I'd like to dress your wound again."

  "If it's any relief to you, Peter, to do so, go ahead, though I think'tis of little use."

  "It will help a great deal. You'll be well again in a week or two. Itisn't so bad here. With a good house and food it's just the place for awounded man."

  "Plenty of quiet, eh Peter? No people to disturb me in my period ofconvalescence."

  "Well, that's a help."

  Robert dressed the wound afresh, but he noticed during his ministrationsthat the slaver's weakness had increased, and his heart sank. It was asingular fact, but he began to feel a sort of attachment for the man whohad done him so much ill. They had been comrades in a great hazard, andwere yet. Moreover, the fear of being left alone in a tremendoussolitude was recurrent and keen. These motives and that of humanity madehim do his best.

  "I thank you, Peter," said the wounded man. "You're standing by me innoble fashion. On the whole, I'm lucky in being cast away with youinstead of one of my own men. But it hurts me more than my wound does tothink that I should have been tricked, that a man of experience such asI am should have been lured under the broadside of the sloop of war byan old fellow playing a fiddle and a couple of sailors dancing. My mindkeeps coming back to it. My brain must have gone soft for the timebeing, and so I've paid the price."

  Robert said nothing, but finished his surgeon's task. Then he made afurther examination of the house, finding more boucan stored in a small,low attic, also clothing, both outer and inner garments, nauticalinstruments, including a compass, a pair of glasses of power, andbottles of medicine, the use of some of which he knew.

  Then he loaded the fowling piece and went back toward the lake, hopinghe might find ducks there. Beef, whether smoked or fresh, as anexclusive diet, would become tiresome, and since they might be in for along stay on the island he meant to fill their larder as best he could.On his way he kept a sharp watch for game, but saw only a small coney, asort of rabbit, which he left in peace. He found at a marshy edge of thelake a number of ducks, three of which he shot, and which he dressed andcooked later on, finding them to be excellent.

  Robert made himself a comfortable bed on the floor with blankets fromone of the closets and slept soundly through the next night. Thefollowing morning he found the slaver weaker than ever and out of hishead at times. He made beef broth for him once more, but the man wasable to take but little.

  "'Tis no use, Peter," he said in a lucid interval. "I'm sped. I thinkthere's no doubt of it. When that sloop of war lured us under her gunsshe finished her task; she did not leave a single thing undone. Myschooner is gone, my crew is gone, and now I'm going."

  "Oh, no," said Robert. "You'll be better to-morrow."

  The man said nothing, but seemed to sink back into a lethargic state.Robert tried his pulse, but could hardly feel its beat. In a half hourhe roused himself a little.

  "Peter," he said. "You're a good lad. I tell you so once more. You savedme from the sea, and you're standing by me now. I owe you for it, and Imight tell you something, now that my time's at hand. It's really cometrue that when I built this house I was building the place in which I amto die, though I didn't dream of it then."

  Robert was silent, waiting to hear what he would tell him. But he closedhis eyes and did not speak for five minutes more. The lad tried hispulse a second time. It was barely discernible. The man at length openedhis eyes and said:

  "Peter, if you go back to the province of New York beware of Adrian VanZoon."

  "Beware of Van Zoon! Why?"

  "He wants to get rid of you. I was to put you out of the way for him, ata price, and a great price, too. But it was not intended, so it seems,that I should do so."

  "Why does Adrian Van Zoon want me put out of the way?"

  "That I don't know, Peter, but when you escape from the island you mustfind out."

  His eyelids drooped and closed once more, and when Robert felt for hispulse a third time there was none. The slaver and pirate was gone, andthe lad was alone.

  Robert felt an immense desolation. Whatever the man was he had strivento keep him alive, and at the last the captain had shown desire to undosome of the evil that he had done to him. And so it was Adrian Van Zoonwho wished to put him out of the way. He had suspected that before, infact he had been convinced of it, and now the truth of it had been toldto him by another. But, why? The mystery was as deep as ever.

  Robert had buried the bodies of the sailors in the sand in graves dugwith an old bayonet that he had found in the house, and he interred thecaptain in the same manner, only much deeper. Then he went back to thehouse and rested a long time. The awful loneliness that he had fearedcame upon him, and he wrestled with it for hours. That night it becameworse than ever, but it was so acute that it exhausted itself, and thenext morning he felt better.

  Resolved not to mope, he took down the rifle, put some of the smokedbeef in his pocket, and started on a long exploration, meaning to crossthe high hills that ran down the center of the island, and see what theother half was like.

  In the brilliant sunshine his spirits took another rise. After all, hecould be much worse off. He had a good house, arms and food, and in timea ship would come. A ship must come, and, with his usual optimism, hewas sure that it would come soon.

  He passed by the lakes and noted the marshy spot where he had shot theducks. Others had come back and were feeding there now on the watergrasses. Doubtless they had never seen man before and did not know hisfull destructiveness, but Robert resolved to have duck for his tablewhenever he wanted it.

  A mile or two farther and he saw another but much smaller lake, aroundthe edge of which duck also were feeding, showing him that the supplywas practically unlimited. Just beyond the second lake lay the range ofhills that constituted the backbone of the island, and although the sunwas hot he climbed them, their height being about a thousand feet. Fromthe crest he had a view of the entire island, finding the new half muchlike the old, low, hilly, covered with forest, and surrounded with aline of reefs on which the surf was breaking.

  His eyes followed the long curve of the reefs, and then stopped at adark spot that broke their white continuity. His blood leaped andinstantly he put to his eyes the strong glasses that he had found in thehouse and that fortunately he had brought with him. Here he found hisfirst impression to be correct. The dark spot was a ship!

  But it was no longer a ship that sailed the seas. Instead it was awrecked and shattered ship, with her bow driven into the sand, and herstern impaled on the sharp teeth of the breakers. Then his heart leapedagain. A second long look through the glasses told him that the lines ofthe ship, bruised and battered though she was, were familiar.

  It was the schooner. The storm had brought her to the island also,though to the opposite shore, and there she lay a wreck held by the sandand rocks. He descended the hills, and, after a long walk, reached thebeach. The schooner was not broken up as much as he had thought, and asshe could be reached easily he decided to board her.

  The vessel was tipped partly over on her side, and all her spars andsails were gone. She swayed a little with th
e swell, but she was heldfast by sand and rocks. Robert, laying his clothes and rifle on thebeach, waded out to her, and, without much difficulty, climbed aboard,where he made his way cautiously over the slanting and slippery deck.

  His first motive in boarding the wreck was curiosity, but it nowoccurred to him that there was much treasure to be had, treasure of thekind that was most precious to a castaway. A long stay on the island hadnot entered into his calculations hitherto, but he knew now that hemight have to reckon on it, and it was well to be prepared for anyevent.

  He searched first the cabins of the captain and mates, taking from themwhat he thought might be of use, and heaping the store upon the beach.He soon had there a pair of fine double-barreled pistols with plenty ofammunition to fit, another rifle, one that had been the captain's own,with supplies of powder and ball, a half dozen blankets, a medicinechest, well supplied, and a cutlass, which he took without anyparticular thought of use.

  Then he invaded the carpenter's domain, and there he helped himself veryfreely, taking out two axes, two hatchets, two saws, a hammer, twochisels, several augers, and many other tools, all of which he heapedwith great labor upon the beach.

  Then he explored the cook's galley, gleaning three large bags of flour,supplies of salt and pepper, five cured hams, four big cheeses, severalbottles of cordial and other supplies such as were carried on anywell-found ship. It required great skill and caution to get all histreasures safely ashore, but his enthusiasm rose as he worked, and hetoiled at his task until midnight. Then he slept beside the preciousheap until the next day.

  He lighted a fire with his flint and steel, which he made a point tocarry with him always, and cooked a breakfast of slices from one of thehams. Then he planned a further attack upon the schooner, which had notaltered her position in the night.

  Robert now felt like a miser who never hoards enough. Moreover, hissource of supply once gone, it was not likely that he would findanother, and there was the ship. The sea was in almost a dead calm, andit was easier than ever to approach her. So he decided to board againand take off more treasure.

  He added to the heap upon the beach another rifle, two muskets, severalpistols, a small sword and a second cutlass, clothing, a considerablesupply of provisions and a large tarpaulin which he meant to spread overhis supplies while they lay on the sand. Then he launched a dinghy whichhe found upon the ship with the oars inside.

  The dinghy gave him great pleasure. He knew that it would be an arduoustask to carry all his supplies on his back across the island to thehouse, and it would lighten the labor greatly to make trips around inthe boat. So he loaded into the dinghy as much of the most precious ofhis belongings as he thought it would hold, and began the journey bywater that very day, leaving the rest of the goods covered with thetarpaulin in the event of rain.

  It was a long journey, and he had to be careful about the breakers, butfortunately the sea remained calm. He was caught in currents severaltimes, but he came at last to the opening in the rocks through which heand the captain had entered and he rowed in joyfully. He slept thatnight in the house and started back in the morning for another load. Onetrip a day in the dinghy he found to be all that he could manage, but hestuck to his work until his precious store was brought from the beach tothe house.

  He could not make up his mind even then to abandon the schoonerentirely. There might never be another magazine of supply, and heransacked her thoroughly, taking off more tools, weapons, clothing andammunition. Even then he left on board much that might be useful in caseof emergency, such as cordage, sails, and clothing that had belonged tothe sailors. There was also a large quantity of ammunition for the LongTom which he did not disturb. The gun itself was still on board theship, dismounted and wedged into the woodwork, but practically as goodas ever. Robert, with an eye for the picturesque, thought it would havebeen fine to have taken it ashore and to have mounted it before thehouse, but that, of course, was impossible. He must leave it to find itsgrave in the ocean, and that, perhaps, was the best end to a gun used asthe Long Tom had been.

  Part of his new treasures he took across the island on his back, andpart he carried around it in the boat, which he found to be invaluable,and of which he took the utmost care, drawing it upon the beach atnight, beyond the reach of tide or storm.

  More than two weeks passed in these labors, and he was so busy, mind andbody, that he was seldom lonely except at night. Then the feeling wasalmost overpowering, but whenever he was assailed by it he wouldresolutely tell himself that he might be in far worse case. He hadshelter, food and arms in plenty, and it would not be long before he wastaken off the island. Exerting his will so strongly, the periods ofdepression became fewer and shorter.

  But the silence and the utter absence of his own kind produced a markedeffect upon his character. He became graver, he thought more deeply uponserious things than his years warranted. The problem of his own identitywas often before him. Who was he? He was sure that Benjamin Hardy knew.Jacobus Huysman must know, too, and beyond a doubt Adrian Van Zoon did,else he would not try so hard to put him out of the way. And St. Lucmust have something to do with this coil. Why had the Frenchman reallypointed out to him the way of escape when he was a prisoner atTiconderoga? He turned these questions over and over and over in hismind, though always the answer evaded him. But he resolved to solve theproblem when he got back to the colonies and as soon as the great warwas over. It was perhaps typical of him that he should want his ownpersonal fortunes to wait upon the issue of the mighty struggle in whichhe was so deeply absorbed.

  Then his thoughts turned with renewed concentration to the war. Standingfar off in both mind and body, he was able to contemplate it as a wholeand also to see it in all its parts. And the more he looked at it thesurer he was that England and her colonies would succeed. Distance andperspective gave him confidence. The French generals and French soldiershad done wonders, nobody could be braver or more skilful than they, butthey could not prevail always against superior might and invincibletenacity.

  Sitting on the ground and looking at the white surf breaking on therocks, he ended the war in the way he wished. The French and Canada wereconquered completely and his own flag was victorious everywhere.Braddock's defeat and Ticonderoga were but incidents which could delaybut which could not prevent.

  But he did not spend too much time in reflection. He was too young forthat, and his years in the wilderness helped him to bear the burden ofbeing alone. Rifle on shoulder, he explored every part of the island,finding that his domain presented no great variety. There was muchforest, and several kinds of tropical fruits were for his taking, butquadruped life was limited, nothing larger than small rodents.Well-armed as he was, he would have preferred plenty of big game. Itwould have added spice to his life, much of which had been spent inhunting with Willet and Tayoga. Excitement might have been found infollowing bear or deer, but he knew too well ever to have expected themon an island in summer seas.

  There was some sport in fishing. Plenty of tackle had been found amongthe ship's stores, and he caught good fish in the larger lake. He alsotried deep sea fishing from the dinghy, but the big fellows bit so fastthat it soon ceased to be of interest. The fish, though, added freshnessand variety to his larder, and he also found shellfish, good andwholesome when eaten in small quantities, along the shore.

  He went often to the highest hill in the center of the island, where hewould spend long periods, examining the sea from horizon to horizon withhis strong glasses, searching vainly for a sail. He thought once ofkeeping a mighty bonfire burning every night, but he reconsidered itwhen he reflected on the character of the ship that it might draw.

  Both the Bahamas and the West Indies--he did not know in which group hewas--swarmed then with lawless craft. For nearly two hundred yearspiracy had been common, and in a time of war especially the chances wereagainst a ship being a friend. He decided that on the whole he wouldprefer a look at the rescuer before permitting himself to be rescued.

  The weather remai
ned beautiful. He had been a month on the island, andthe sea had not been vexed by another storm since his arrival. Theschooner was still wedged in the sand and on the rocks, and he madeseveral more trips to her, taking off many more articles, which,however, he left in a heap well back of the beach covered with atarpaulin and the remains of sails. He felt that they could lie thereawaiting his need. Perhaps he would never need them at all.

  His later visits to the schooner were more from curiosity than from anyother motive. He had a strong desire to learn more about the captain andhis ship. There was no name anywhere upon the vessel, nor could he findany ship's log or manifest or any kind of writing to indicate it.Neither was the name of the slaver known to him, nor was there anyletter nor any kind of paper to disclose it. It was likely that it wouldalways remain hidden from him unless some day he should wrench it fromAdrian Van Zoon.

  Robert went into the sea nearly every morning. As he was a powerfulswimmer and the weather remained calm, he was in the habit of going outbeyond the reefs, but one day he noticed a fin cutting the water andcoming toward him. Instantly he swam with all his might toward thereefs, shivering as he went. When he drew himself up on the slipperyrocks he did not see the formidable fin. He was quite willing to utterdevout thanks aloud. It might not have been a shark, but it made himremember they were to be expected in those waters. After that he took nochances, bathing inside the reefs and going outside in the dinghy only.

  A few days later he was upon his highest hill watching the horizon whenhe saw a dark spot appear in the southwest. At first he was hopeful thatit was a sail, but as he saw it grow he knew it to be a cloud. Then hehurried toward the house, quite sure a storm was coming. Knowing how thesouthern seas were swept by hurricanes, it was surprising that none hadcome sooner, and he ran as fast as he could for the shelter of thehouse.

  Robert made the door just in time. Then the day had turned almost asdark as night and, with a rush and a roar, wind and rain were upon him.Evidently the slaver had known those regions, and so he had built ahouse of great strength, which, though it quivered and rattled under thesweep of the hurricane, nevertheless stood up against it.

  The building had several small windows, closed with strong shutters, butas wind and rain were driving from the west he was able to open one onthe eastern side and watch the storm. It was just such a hurricane asthat which had wrecked the shattered schooner. It became very dark,there were tremendous displays of thunder and lightning, which ceased,after a while, as the wind grew stronger, and then through the dark hesaw trees and bushes go down. Fragments struck against the house, butthe stout walls held.

  The wind kept up a continuous screaming, as full of menace as the crashof a battle. Part of the time it swept straight ahead, cutting wideswathes, and then, turning into balls of compressed air, it whirled withfrightful velocity, smashing everything level with the ground as if ithad been cut down by a giant sword.

  Robert had seen more than one hurricane in the great northern woods andhe watched it without alarm. Although the house continued to rattle andshake, and now and then a bough, wrenched from its trunk, struck it aheavy blow, he knew that it would hold. There was a certain comfort insitting there, dry and secure, while the storm raged without in all itsviolence. There was pleasure too in the knowledge that he was on theland and not the sea. He remembered the frightful passage that he andthe slaver had made through the breakers, and he knew that his escapethen had depended upon the slimmest of chances. He shuddered as herecalled the rocks thrusting out their savage teeth.

  The storm, after a while, sank into a steady rain, and the wind blew butlittle. The air was now quite cold for that region, and Robert, lyingdown on the couch, covered himself with a blanket. He soon fell asleepand slept so long, lulled by the beat of the rain, that he did notawaken until the next day.

  Then he took the dinghy and rowed around to the other side of theisland. As he had expected, the schooner was gone. The storm had brokenher up, and he found many of her timbers scattered along the beach,where they had been brought in by the waves. He felt genuine sadness atthe ship's destruction and disappearance. It was like losing a livingfriend.

  Fortunately, the tarpaulin and heavy sails with which he had covered hisheap of stores high up the beach, weighting them down afterward withhuge stones, had held. Some water had entered at the edges, but, as thegoods were of a kind that could not be damaged much, little harm wasdone. Again he resolved to preserve all that he had accumulated there,although he did not know that he would have any need of them.

  When he rowed back in the dinghy he saw a formidable fin cutting thewater again, and, laying down the oars, he took up the rifle which healways carried with him. He watched until the shark was almost on thesurface of the water, and then he sent a bullet into it. There was agreat splashing, followed by a disappearance, and he did not know justthen the effect of his shot, but a little later, when the huge body ofthe slain fish floated to the surface he felt intense satisfaction, ashe believed that it would have been a man-eater had it the chance.