d we known what
was coming."

"We should not grumble," observed Tom. "We have got upwards of a
hundred miles to the southward; when a breeze does come we shall have so
much less distance to make."

"But the food and the water, sir?" exclaimed Jerry.

"We must touch at the nearest island we sight and obtain a fresh
supply," was the answer.

Day after day the shark had followed the boat, and while his hideous
snout was seen, or that triangular fin of his, it would have been
useless to put over a fishing-line, as it would certainly have been
carried off. When, however, the fresh provisions ran short, Gerald and
Tom determined to try and get rid of their fearful foe. The three men
and Billy, who, though fat and short, pulled a very good oar, were
rowing as men do who have been at the task many hours, in a sort of
mechanical fashion, when Tom exclaimed--

"Load the muskets, Desmond, and if we cannot kill that brute astern, and
get a few slices out of his carcase, we will, at all events, drive him
away."

The muskets had been kept clean and ready for use. They were soon
loaded, when the midshipmen, bringing the weapons to their shoulders,
took, as they thought, a steady aim and fired. The shark instantly sank
out of sight. Whether they had hit him or not, they could not tell, but
it was possible that the bullets, being deflected by the water, had
glanced clear of his head. They at once reloaded, expecting that he
would return; but though they looked down into the clear water astern
and on either side, the monster was nowhere to be seen.

"He won't trouble us again," said Desmond. "I feel pretty sure my
bullet went into him."

"And I think mine did," said Tom; "but neither could have killed him, or
he would have floated up."

"Then the sooner we get out the lines and try and catch some fish for
supper the better," exclaimed Billy.

Taking off the heavy leads, two of the lines were baited with pieces of
rancid pork and allowed to tow astern. The lines had been out for some
time, but not a bite had been obtained.

"Perhaps the lines are not deep enough, or the bait is not as good as it
should be," observed Desmond, beginning to haul in upon his line. He
had got it in a third of the length, when he felt it torn from his
grasp, and he caught sight of a monster running off with it. The next
instant, as Desmond had the line round the thwart, it snapped short off.
Away went hook and line. Directly after, To