In Search of the Castaways
or
The Children of Captain Grant
South America
CHAPTER I
THE SHARK
ON the 26th of July, 1864, a magnificent yacht
was steaming along the North Channel at full
speed, with a strong breeze blowing from the
N. E. The Union Jack was flying at the
mizzen-mast, and a blue standard bearing the
initials E. G., embroidered in gold, and surmounted by a ducal coronet, floated
from the topgallant head
of the main-mast. The name of the yacht was the Duncan,
and the owner was Lord Glenarvan, one of the sixteen
Scotch peers who sit in the Upper House, and the most distinguished member of
the Royal Thames Yacht Club, so
famous throughout the United Kingdom.
Lord Edward Glenarvan was on board with his young
wife, Lady Helena, and one of his cousins, Major McNabbs.
The Duncan was newly built, and had been making a
trial trip a few miles outside the Firth of Clyde. She was
returning to Glasgow, and the Isle of Arran already loomed
in the distance, when the sailor on watch caught sight of an
enormous fish sporting in the wake of the ship. Lord
Edward, who was immediately apprised of the fact, came
up on the poop a few minutes after with his cousin, and
asked John Mangles, the captain, what sort of an animal he
thought it was.
"Well, since your Lordship asks my opinion," said
Mangles, "I think it is a shark, and a fine large one too."
"A shark on these shores!"
"There is nothing at all improbable in that," returned
the captain. "This fish belongs to a species that is found
in all latitudes and in all seas. It is the 'balance-fish,' or
hammer-headed shark, if I am not much mistaken. But if
your Lordship has no objections, and it would give the
smallest pleasure to Lady Helena to see a novelty in the way
of fishing, we'll soon haul up the monster and find out
what it really is."
"What do you say, McNabbs? Shall we try to catch
it?" asked Lord Glenarvan.
"If you like; it's all one to me," was his cousin's cool
reply.
"The more of those terrible creatures that are killed the
better, at all events," said John Mangles, "so let's seize the
chance, and it will not only give us a little diversion, but be
doing a good action."
"Very well, set to work, then," said Glenarvan.
Lady Helena soon joined her husband on deck, quite
charmed at the prospect of such exciting sport. The sea
was splendid, and every movement of the shark was distinctly visible. In
obedience to the captain's orders, the
sailors threw a strong rope over the starboard side of the
yacht, with a big hook at the end of it, concealed in a thick
lump of bacon. The bait took at once, though the shark
was full fifty yards distant. He began to make rapidly
for the yacht, beating the waves violently with his fins, and
keeping his tail in a perfectly straight line. As he got
nearer, his great projecting eyes could be seen inflamed with
greed, and his gaping jaws with their quadruple row of
teeth. His head was large, and shaped like a double hammer at the end of a
handle. John Mangles was right.
This was evidently a balance-fish — the most voracious of
all the squalidae species.
The passengers and sailors on the yacht were watching
all the animal's movements with the liveliest interest. He
soon came within reach of the bait, turned over on his back
to make a good dart at it, and in a second bacon and contents had disappeared.
He had hooked himself now, as
the tremendous jerk he gave the cable proved, and the sailors began to haul in
the monster by means of tackle attached
to the mainyard. He struggled desperately, but his captors were prepared for his
violence, and had a long rope
ready with a slip knot, which caught his tail and rendered
him powerless at once. In a few minutes more he was
hoisted up over the side of the yacht and thrown on the
deck. A man came forward immediately, hatchet in hand,
and approaching him cautiously, with one powerful stroke
cut off his tail.
This ended the business, for there was no longer any fear
of the shark. But, though the sailors' vengeance was satisfied, their curiosity
was not; they knew the brute had no
very delicate appetite, and the contents of his stomach might
be worth investigation. This is the common practice on all
ships when a shark is captured, but Lady Glenarvan declined to be present at
such a disgusting exploration, and
withdrew to the cabin again. The fish was still breathing;
it measured ten feet in length, and weighed more than six
hundred pounds. This was nothing extraordinary, for
though the hammer-headed shark is not classed among the
most gigantic of the species, it is always reckoned among
the most formidable.
The huge brute was soon ripped up in a very unceremonious fashion. The
hook had fixed right in the stomach, which was found to be absolutely empty, and
the disappointed sailors were just going to throw the remains
overboard, when the boatswain's attention was attracted by
some large object sticking fast in one of the viscera.
"I say! what's this?" he exclaimed.
"That!" replied one of the sailors, "why, it's a piece of
rock the beast swallowed by way of ballast."
"It's just a bottle, neither more nor less, that the fellow
has got in his inside, and couldn't digest," said another of
the crew.
"Hold your tongues, all of you!" said Tom Austin, the
mate of the Duncan. "Don't you see the animal has been
such an inveterate tippler that he has not only drunk the
wine, but swallowed the bottle?"
"What!" said Lord Glenarvan. "Do you mean to say
it is a bottle that the shark has got in his stomach."
"Ay, it is a bottle, most certainly," replied the boatswain,
"but not just from the cellar."
"Well, Tom, be careful how you take it out," said Lord
Glenarvan, "for bottles found in the sea often contain precious documents."
"Do you think this does?" said Major McNabbs, incredulously.
"It possibly may, at any rate."
"Oh! I'm not saying it doesn't. There may perhaps
be some secret in it," returned the Major.
"That's just what we're to see," said his cousin. "Well,
Tom."
"Here it is," said the mate, holding up a shapeless lump
he had managed to pull out, though with some difficulty.
"Get the filthy thing washed then, and bring it to the
cabin."
Tom obeyed, and in a few minutes brought in the bottle
and laid it on the table, at which Lord Glenarvan and the
Major were sitting ready with the captain, and, of course
Lady Helena, for women, they say, are always a little curious. Everything is an
event at sea. For a moment they
all sat silent, gazing at this frail relic, wondering if it told
the tale of sad disaster, or brought some trifling message
from a frolic-loving sailor, who had flung it into the sea to
amuse himself when he had nothing better to do.
However, the only way to know was to examine the bottle, and Glenarvan
set to work without further delay, so
carefully and minutely, that he might have been taken for
a coroner making an inquest.
He commenced by a close inspection of the outside. The
neck was long and slender, and round the thick rim there
was still an end of wire hanging, though eaten away with
rust. The sides were very thick, and strong enough to
bear great pressure. It was evidently of Champagne origin, and the Major said
immediately, "That's one of our
Clicquot's bottles."
Nobody contradicted him, as he was supposed to know;
but Lady Helena exclaimed, "What does it matter about
the bottle, if we don't know where it comes from?"
"We shall know that, too, presently, and we may affirm
this much already — it comes from a long way off. Look
at those petrifactions all over it, these different substances
almost turned to mineral, we might say, through the action
of the salt water! This waif had been tossing about in the
ocean a long time before the shark swallowed it."
"I quite agree with you," said McNabbs. "I dare say
this frail concern has made a long voyage, protected by this
strong covering."
"But I want to know where from?" said Lady Glenarvan.
"Wait a little, dear Helena, wait; we must have patience
with bottles; but if I am not much mistaken, this one will
answer all our questions," replied her husband, beginning
to scrape away the hard substances round the neck. Soon
the cork made its appearance, but much damaged by the
water.
"That's vexing," said Lord Edward, "for if papers are
inside, they'll be in a pretty state!"
"It's to be feared they will," said the Major.
"But it is a lucky thing the shark swallowed them, I
must say," added Glenarvan, "for the bottle would have
sunk to the bottom before long with such a cork as this."
"That's true enough," replied John Mangles, "and yet
it would have been better to have fished them up in the open
sea. Then we might have found out the road they had
come by taking the exact latitude and longitude, and studying the atmospheric
and submarine currents; but with such
a postman as a shark, that goes against wind and tide,
there's no clew whatever to the starting-point."
"We shall see," said Glenarvan, gently taking out the
cork. A strong odor of salt water pervaded the whole
saloon, and Lady Helena asked impatiently: "Well, what
is there?"
"I was right!" exclaimed Glenarvan. "I see papers
inside. But I fear it will be impossible to remove them,"
he added, "for they appear to have rotted with the damp,
and are sticking to the sides of the bottle."
"Break it," said the Major.
"I would rather preserve the whole if I could."
"No doubt you would," said Lady Helena; "but the
contents are more valuable than the bottle, and we had
better sacrifice the one than the other."
"If your Lordship would simply break off the neck, I
think we might easily withdraw the papers," suggested
John Mangles.
"Try it, Edward, try it," said Lady Helena.
Lord Glenarvan was very unwilling, but he found there
was no alternative; the precious bottle must be broken.
They had to get a hammer before this could be done, though,
for the stony material had acquired the hardness of granite. A few sharp
strokes, however, soon shivered it to
fragments, many of which had pieces of paper sticking to
them. These were carefully removed by Lord Glenarvan,
and separated and spread out on the table before the eager
gaze of his wife and friends.