I conjectured that they had caught sight of some sea-monster that had
found its way in, and was floundering in the lagoon, and that they had
rushed off to fetch arms and harpoons to try and capture it.

I was right, for they speedily returned with the latter weapons and
rifles loaded with explosive bullets.

The monster in question was a whale, of the species that is common
enough in Bermudan waters, which after swimming through the tunnel was
plunging about in the narrow limits of the lake. As it was constrained
to take refuge in Back Cup I concluded that it must have been hard
pressed by whalers.

Some minutes elapsed before the monster rose to the surface. Then the
green shiny mass appeared spouting furiously and darting to and fro as
though fighting with some formidable enemy.

"If it was driven in here by whalers," I said to myself, "there must
be a vessel in proximity to Back Cup--peradventure within a stone's
throw of it. Her boats must have entered the western passes to the
very foot of the mountain. And to think I am unable to communicate
with them! But even if I could, I fail to see how I could go to them
through these massive walls."

I soon found, however, that it was not fishers, but sharks that had
driven the whale through the tunnel, and which infest these waters in
great numbers. I could see them plainly as they darted about, turning
upon their backs and displaying their enormous mouths which were
bristling with their cruel teeth. There were five or six of the
monsters, and they attacked the whale with great viciousness. The
latter's only means of defence was its tail, with which it lashed at
them with terrific force and rapidity. But the whale had received
several wounds and the water was tinged with its life-blood; for
plunge and lash as it would, it could not escape the bites of its
enemies.

However, the voracious sharks were not permitted to vanquish their
prey, for man, far more powerful with his instruments of death, was
about to take a hand and snatch it from them. Gathered around the
lagoon were the companions of Ker Karraje, every whit as ferocious as
the sharks themselves, and well deserving the same name, for what else
are they?

Standing amid a group, at the extremity of the jetty, and armed with
a harpoon, was the big Malay who had prevented me from entering Ker
Karraje's house. When the whale got within shot, he hurled the harpoon
with great force and skill, and it sank into t