A quarter race in Kentucky and other sketches, illustrative of scenes, characters, and incidents throughout "the universal Yankee nation." |
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A SHARK STORY. |
 | A quarter race in Kentucky |  |
A SHARK STORY.
BY "J. CYPRESS, JR.," THE LATE WM. P. HAWES, ESQ.
OF NEW YORK.
No native writer of his age, probably, ever acquired so enviable
a reputation at home and abroad, as was universally accorded
to the late lamented Wm. P. Hawes, Esq., of New York,
whose sketches, under the signature of "J. Cypress, Jr.,"
were everywhere sought for, and read with the highest degree
of interest. A collection of his contributions to the press was
published two or three years since, under the title of "Country
Scenes and Sundry Sketches," (edited by "Frank Forester,")
to which attention is invited as being one of the most humorous
original works in the language. The capital story subjoined
will give a very good idea of his style.
"Well, gentlemen, I'll go ahead, if you say so.
Here's the story. It is true, upon my honour, from
beginning to end—every word of it. I once crossed
over to Faulkner's island to fish for tautaugs, as the
north-side people call black fish, on the reefs hard by, in
the Long Island Sound. Tim Titus (who died of the
dropsy down at Shinnecock point, last spring) lived
there then. Tim was a right good fellow, only he
drank rather too much.
"It was during the latter part of July; the sharks
and the dog-fish had just began to spoil sport. When
Tim told me about the sharks, I resolved to go prepared
to entertain these aquatic savages with all becoming
attention and regard, if there should chance to
rigged out a set of extra large hooks, and shipped some
ropeyarn and steel chain, an axe, a couple of clubs,
and an old harpoon, in addition to our ordinary equipments,
and off we started. We threw out our anchor
at half-ebb tide, and took some thumping large fish:
two of them weighed thirteen pounds—so you may
judge. The reef where we lay was about half a mile
from the island, and, perhaps, a mile from the Connecticut
shore. We floated there, very quietly, throwing
out and hauling in, until the breaking of my line, with
a sudden and severe jerk, informed me that the sea
attorneys were in waiting, down stairs; and we accordingly
prepared to give them a retainer. A salt pork
cloak upon one of our magnum hooks forthwith engaged
one of the gentlemen in our service. We got
him alongside, and by dint of piercing, and thrusting,
and banging, we accomplished a most exciting and
merry murder. We had business enough of the kind
to keep us employed until near low water. By this
time, the sharks had all cleared out, and the black fish
were biting again; the rock began to make its appearance
above the water, and in a little while its hard bald
head was entirely dry. Tim now proposed to set me
out upon the rock, while he rowed ashore to get the
jug, which, strange to say, we had left at the house.
I assented to this proposition; first, because I began to
feel the effects of the sun upon my tongue, and needed
something to take, by the way of medicine; and secondly,
because the rock was a favourite spot for rod and reel,
and famous for luck: so I took my traps, and a box of
bait, and jumped upon my new station. Tim made
for the island.
"Not many men would willingly have been left upon
a little barren reef that was covered by every flow of
the tide, in the midst of a waste of waters, at such a
distance from the shore, even with an assurance from
a companion more to be depended upon than mine,
that he would return immediately and take him off. But
some how or other, the excitement of my sport was so
high, and the romance of the situation was so delightful,
that I thought of nothing else but the prospect of
my fun, and the contemplation of the novelty and
beauty of the scene. It was a mild, pleasant afternoon,
in harvest time. The sky was clear and pure. The
deep blue sound, heaving all around me, was studded
with craft of all descriptions and dimensions, from the
dipping sail-boat to the rolling merchantman, sinking
and rising like sea-birds sporting with their white wings
in the surge. The grain and grass on the neighbouring
farms were gold and green, and gracefully they bent
obeisance to a gently breathing south-wester. Farther
off, the high upland, and the distant coast, gave a dim
relief to the prominent features of the landscape, and
seemed the rich but dusky frame of a brilliant fairy
picture. Then, how still it was! not a sound could
be heard, except the occasional rustling of my own
motion, and the water beating against the sides,
or gurgling in the fissures of the rock, or except now
and then the cry of a solitary saucy gull, who would
come out of his way in the firmament, to see what I
was doing without a boat, all alone, in the middle of
the sound; and who would hover, and cry, and chatter,
and make two or three circling swoops and dashes
at me, and then, after having satisfied his curiosity,
glide away in search of some other food to scream at.
"I soon became half indolent, and quite indifferent
about fishing; so I stretched myself out at full length
upon the rock, and gave myself up to the luxury of
looking and thinking. The divine exercise soon put
me fast asleep. I dreamed away a couple of hours,
and longer might have dreamed, but for a tired fish-hawk
who chose to make my head his resting place,
and who waked and started me to my feet.
" `Where is Tim Titus?' I muttered to myself, as I
strained my eyes over the now darkened water. But
none was near me to answer that interesting question,
and nothing was to be seen of either Tim or his boat.
`He should have been here long ere this,' thought I, `and
he promised faithfully not to stay long—could he have
forgotten? or has he paid too much devotion to the jug?'
"I began to feel uneasy, for the tide was rising fast,
and soon would cover the top of the rock, and high watermark
was at least a foot above my head. I buttoned
up my coat, for either the coming coolness of the evening,
or else my growing apprehensions, had set me
trembling and chattering most painfully. I braced my
nerves, and set my teeth, and tried to hum `Begone,
dull care,' keeping time with my fists upon my thighs.
But what music! what melancholy merriment! I started
and shuddered at the doleful sound of my own voice.
I am not naturally a coward; but I should like to know
the man who would not, in such a situation, be alarmed.
It is a cruel death to die to be merely drowned, and to
go through the ordinary common-places of suffocation;
but to see your death gradually rising to your eyes, to
feel the water rising, inch by inch, upon your shivering
sides, and to anticipate the certainly coming, choking
struggle for your last breath, when, with the gurgling
the cold brine pours into mouth, ears, and nostrils,
usurping the seat and avenues of health and life, and,
with gradual flow, stifling—smothering—suffocating!
It were better to die a thousand common deaths.
"This is one of the instances in which, it must be
admitted, salt water is not a pleasant subject of contemplation.
However, the rock was not yet covered,
and hope, blessed hope, stuck faithfully by me. To
beguile, if possible, the weary time, I put on a bait,
and threw out for fish. I was sooner successful than
I could have wished to be, for hardly had my line
struck the water, before the hook was swallowed, and
my rod was bent with the dead hard pull of a twelve
foot shark. I let him run about fifty yards, and then
reeled up. He appeared not at all alarmed, and I
could scarcely feel him bear upon my fine hair line.
He followed the pull gently and unresisting, came up
to the rock, laid his nose upon its side, and looked up
into my face, not as if utterly unconcerned; but with a
sort of quizzical impudence, as though he perfectly understood
the precarious nature of my situation. The
conduct of my captive renewed and increased my
alarm. And well it might; for the tide was now running
over a corner of the rock behind me, and a small
stream rushed through a cleft, or fissure, by my side,
and formed a puddle at my very feet. I broke my
hook out of the monster's mouth, and leaned upon my
rod for support.
" `Where is Tim Titus?'—I cried aloud—`Curse on
the drunken vagabond! Will he never come?'
"My ejaculations did no good. No Timothy appeared.
It became evident that I must prepare for
and the water was above the soles of my feet.
I was not much of a swimmer, and as to ever reaching
the island, I could not even hope for that. However,
there was no alternative, and I tried to encourage myself,
by reflecting that necessity was the mother of invention,
and that desperation will sometimes insure
success. Besides, too, I considered and took comfort
from the thought that I could wait for Tim, so long as I
had a foothold, and then commit myself to the uncertain
strength of my arms and legs for salvation. So I
turned my bait-box upside down, and mounting upon
that, endeavoured to comfort my spirits, and to be
courageous, but submissive to my fate. I thought of
death, and what it might bring with it, and I tried to
repent of the multiplied iniquities of my almost wasted
life; but I found that that was no place for a sinner to
settle his accounts. Wretched soul, pray I could not.
"The water had not got above my ankles, when, to
my inexpressible joy, I saw a sloop bending down
towards me, with the evident intention of picking me
up. No man can imagine what were the sensations of
gratitude which filled my bosom at that moment.
"When she got within a hundred yards of the reef, I
sung out to the man at the helm to luff up, and lie by,
and lower the boat; but, to my amazement, I could get
no reply, nor notice of my request. I entreated them,
for the love of heaven, to take me off; and I promised,
I know not what rewards, that were entirely beyond my
power of bestowal. But the brutal wretch of a captain,
muttering something to the effect of `that he hadn't
time to stop,' and giving me the kind and sensible
advice to pull off my coat and swim ashore, put the
tack.
" `Heartless villain!'—I shrieked out, in the torture
of my disappointment; `may God reward your inhumanity.'
The crew answered my prayer with a coarse,
loud laugh; and the cook asked me through a speaking
trumpet, `If I was not afraid of catching cold.'—The
black rascal!
"It now was time to strip; for my knees felt the
cool tide, and the wind, dying away, left a heavy swell,
that swayed and shook the box upon which I was
mounted, so that I had occasionally to stoop, and paddle
with my hands against the water, in order to preserve
my perpendicular. The setting sun sent his
almost horizontal streams of fire across the dark waters,
making them gloomy and terrific, by the contrast of his
amber and purple glories.
"Something glided by me in the water, and then
made a sudden halt. I looked upon the black mass,
and, as my eye ran along its dark outline, I saw, with
horror, that it was a shark; the identical monster out
of whose mouth I had just broken my hook. He was
fishing now for me, and was evidently only waiting for
the tide to rise high enough above the rock, to glut at
once his hunger and revenge. As the water continued
to mount above my knees, he seemed to grow more
hungry and familiar. At last, he made a desperate
dash, and approaching within an inch of my legs,
turned upon his back, and opened his huge jaws for an
attack. With desperate strength, I thrust the end of
my rod violently at his mouth; and the brass head,
ringing against his teeth, threw him back into the deep
current, and I lost sight of him entirely. This, however,
A SHARK STORY.
"As I looked around me, to see what had become of the robbers, I
counted one, two, three, yes up to twelve, successively
of the largest sharks I ever saw!"
he was close behind my back, and pulling at the skirts
of my fustian coat, which hung dipping into the water.
I leaned forward hastily, and endeavoured to extricate
myself from the dangerous grasp; but the monster's
teeth were too firmly set, and his immense strength
nearly drew me over. So, down flew my rod, and off
went my jacket, devoted peace-offerings to my voracious
visiter.
"In an instant, the waves all round me were lashed
into froth and foam. No sooner was my poor old
sporting friend drawn under the surface, than it was
fought for by at least a dozen enormous combatants!
The battle raged upon every side. High black fins
rushed now here, now there, and long, strong tails
scattered sleet and froth, and the brine was thrown up
in jets, and eddied, and curled, and fell, and swelled,
like a whirlpool in Hell-gate.
"Of no long duration, however, was this fishy tourney.
It seemed soon to be discovered that the prize
contended for contained nothing edible but cheese and
crackers, and no flesh; and as its mutilated fragments
rose to the surface, the waves subsided into their former
smooth condition. Not till then did I experience the
real terrors of my situation. As I looked around me to
see what had become of the robbers, I counted one,
two, three, yes, up to twelve, successively, of the
largest sharks I ever saw, floating in a circle around me,
like divergent rays, all mathematically equidistant from
the rock, and from each other; each perfectly motionless,
and with his gloating, fiery eye, fixed full and
fierce upon me. Basilisks and rattlesnakes! how the
fire of their steady eyes entered into my heart! I was
the unsprung, or rather unchewed game, at which a pack
of hunting sea-dogs were making a dead point!
"There was one old fellow, that kept within the circumference
of the circle. He seemed to be a sort of
captain, or leader of the band; or, rather, he acted as
the coroner for the other twelve of the inquisition, that
were summoned to sit on, and eat up my body. He
glided around and about, and every now and then
would stop, and touch his nose against some one of his
comrades, and seem to consult, or to give instructions
as to the time and mode of operation. Occasionally,
he would skull himself up towards me, and examine
the condition of my flesh, and then again glide back,
and rejoin the troupe, and flap his tail, and have another
confabulation. The old rascal had, no doubt, been
out into the highways and byways, and collected this
company of his friends and kin-fish, and invited them
to supper. I must confess, that horribly as I felt, I
could not help but think of a tea party, of demure old
maids, sitting in a solemn circle, with their skinny hands
in their laps, licking their expecting lips, while their
hostess bustles about in the important functions of her
preparations. With what an eye have I seen such appurtenances
of humanity survey the location and adjustment
of some especial condiment, which is about to be submitted
to criticism and consumption.
"My sensations began to be, now, most exquisite
indeed; but I will not attempt to describe them. I was
neither not nor cold, frightened nor composed; but I
had a combination of all kinds of feelings and emotions.
The present, past, future, heaven, earth, my
father and mother, a little girl I knew once, and the
swelled my crazy brain almost to bursting. I cried,
and laughed, and spouted, and screamed for Tim
Titus. In a fit of most wise madness, I opened my
broad-bladed fishing knife, and waved it around my
head with an air of defiance. As the tide continued
to rise, my extravagance of madness mounted. At
one time, I became persuaded that my tide-waiters
were reasonable beings, who might be talked into mercy
and humanity, if a body could only hit upon the right
text. So, I bowed, and gesticulated, and threw out my
hands, and talked to them, as friends, and brothers,
members of my family, cousins, uncles, aunts, people
waiting to have their bills paid;—I scolded them as my
servants; I abused them as duns; I implored them as
jurymen sitting on the question of my life; I congratulated,
and flattered them as my comrades upon some
glorious enterprise; I sung and ranted to them, now as
an actor in a play-house, and now as an elder at a
camp-meeting; in one moment, roaring,
`On this cold flinty rock I will lay down my head,'—
and in the next, giving out to my attentive hearers for
singing, a hymn of Dr. Watts so admirably appropriate
to the occasion,
While fiery billows roll below.'
"What said I, what did I not say! Prose and poetry,
scripture and drama, romance and ratiocination—
out it came. `Quamdiu, Catalina, nostra patientia abutere?'—I
sung out to the old captain, to begin with—
`My brave associates, partners of my toil,'—so ran the
`Gentlemen of the jury,'—`I come not here to steal
away your hearts,'—`You are not wood, you are not
stones, but'—`Hah!'—`Begin, ye tormentors, your
tortures are vain,'—`Good friends, sweet friends, let
me not stir you up to any sudden flood,'—`The angry
flood that lashed her groaning sides,'—`Ladies and
gentlemen,'—`My very noble and approved good masters,'—`Avaunt!
and quit my sight; let the earth
hide ye,'—`Lie lightly on his head, O earth!'—`O!
heaven and earth! that it should come to this,'—`The
torrent roared, and we did buffet it with lusty sinews,
stemming it aside and oaring it with hearts of controversy,'—`Give
me some drink, Titinius,'—`Drink,
boys, drink, and drown dull sorrow,'—`For liquor it
doth roll such comfort to the soul,'—`Romans, countrymen
and lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent
that you may hear,'—`Fellow citizens, assembled as
we are upon this interesting occasion, impressed with
the truth and beauty,'—`Isle of beauty, fare thee well,'
—`The quality of mercy is not strained,'—`Magna
veritas et prevalebit,'—`Truth is potent, and'—`Most
potent, grave, and reverend seigniors,—
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls! what! weep you when you but behold
Our Cæsar's vesture wounded,'—
Ha! ha! ha!—and I broke out in a fit of most horrible
laughter, as I thought of the mincemeat particles of my
lacerated jacket.
"In the mean time, the water had got well up towards
my shoulders, and while I was shaking and vibrating
captain of the band snubbing against my side. Desperately,
and without a definite object, I struck my knife
at one of his eyes, and, by some singular fortune, cut
it out clean from the socket. The shark darted back,
and halted. In an instant, hope and reason came to
my relief; and it occurred to me, that if I could only
blind the monster, I might yet escape. Accordingly,
I stood ready for the next attack. The loss of an eye
did not seem to affect him much, for, after shaking his
head once or twice, he came up to me again, and when
he was about half an inch off, turned upon his back.
This was the critical moment. With a most unaccountable
presence of mind, I laid hold of his nose with my
left hand, and with my right scooped out his remaining
organ of vision. He opened his big mouth, and
champed his long teeth at me, in despair. But it was
all over with him. I raised my right foot and gave him
a hard shove, and he glided off into deep water, and
went to the bottom.
"Well, gentlemen, I suppose you'd think it a hard
story, but its none the less a fact, that I served every
remaining one of those nineteen sharks in the same
fashion. They all came up to me, one by one, regularly
and in order, and I scooped their eyes out, and
gave them a shove, and they went off into deep water,
just like so many lambs. By the time I had scooped
out and blinded a couple of dozen of them, they began
to seem so scarce that I thought I would swim for the
island, and fight the rest for fun, on the way; but just
then, Tim Titus hove in sight, and it had got to be
almost dark, and I concluded to get aboard and rest
myself."
| A quarter race in Kentucky | |