have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in
to dinner." In about half an hour the dinner-bell rang. The boatswain
took charge of the deck; some twenty sailors were now stripped, except a
pair of light duck trowsers; among the rest was a tall, powerful,
coast-of-Africa nigger of the name of Leigh: they used to joke him, and
call him Sambo.

"You no swim to-day, Ned?" said he, addressing me. "Feared of shark,
heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after
him--him run like debbel." I was tempted, and, like the rest, was soon
ready. In quick succession we jumped off the spritsail yard, the black
leading. We had scarcely been in the water five minutes, when some voice
in-board cried out, "A shark! a shark!" In an instant every one of the
swimmers came tumbling up the ship's sides, half mad with fright, the
gallant black among the rest. It was a false alarm. We felt angry with
ourselves for being frightened, angry with those who had frightened us,
and furious with those who had laughed at us. In another moment we were
all again in the water, the black and myself swimming some distance from
the ship. For two successive voyages there had been a sort of rivalry
between us: each fancied that he was the best swimmer, and we were now
testing our speed.

"Well done, Ned!" cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. "Go it,
Sambo!" cried some others. We were both straining our utmost, excited by
the cheers of our respective partisans. Suddenly the voice of the
boatswain was heard shouting, "A shark! a shark! Come back for God's
sake!"

"Lay aft, and lower the cutter down," then came faintly on our ear. The
race instantly ceased. As yet, we only half believed what we heard, our
recent fright being still fresh in our memories.

"Swim, for God's sake!" cried the captain, who was now on deck; "he has
not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him.
Strike out, lads, for God's sake!" My heart stood still: I felt weaker
than a child as I gazed with horror at the dorsal fin of a large shark
on the starboard quarter. Though in the water, the perspiration dropped
from me like rain: the black was striking out like mad for the ship.

"Swim, Ned--swim!" cried several voices; "they never take black when
they can get white."

I did swim, and that desperately: the water foamed past me. I soon
breasted the black, but could not head him. We both strained every nerve
to be first, for we