"Yo' all keep de boat dere a li'l while," he said to Colin, and the lad took the oars.

Then very deftly the boatman pushed the long unwieldy pole into the water and nicked a sponge from the bed, bringing it up intact. On reaching the surface it was seen to be slimy and with a milky fluid dripping from the bottom.

"That's a ripe sponge, you see, Mr. Murren," the boy said, pointing to the milky fluid; "the slimy stuff that's dropping is full of germs of young sponges all ready to grow and swim and fix to something and then become proper sponges."

"That may be a sponge," said the prospective buyer, "but it looks more like a piece of liver."

"Fine sponge, sah,--good yellow sponge," the boatman said, and Colin did not know enough either to affirm or deny.

"Now, Ah show yo' sheepswool sponge, quite diff'nt," the boatman said, and taking up his water gla.s.s he leaned over the edge.

Just as he did so, both Colin and his companion gave a cry.

"Sharks!"

The boatman looked around contemptuously.

"Nu'sing shahks," he said, "sleep all de time." He splashed his hand in the water and the sharks fled in all directions.

"You wouldn't feel that way if you had been in the water," hazarded the capitalist.

"Ah done ride on 'em," was the reply. "Lots o' boys 'round dese hyeh reefs think it fun to steal up ove' a lot o' nu'sing shahks, an' den dive down an' take a ride. Dey wouldn't bite nothin' biggeh than a sahdine."

"But you have got dangerous sharks here?"

"Yes, sah, you bet," the boatman answered; "dey was one ol' white shahk was a holy terror; he use' to show up hyeh reg'lah once a monf. Folks do say he eat up fo' men at diff'rent times."

"I thought Mr. Collier told us that those shark stories were exaggerated," said Paul, turning to Colin. "I didn't think so, now you see, they weren't."

"Oh, I guess the white shark is the real thing, all right," Colin answered. "Some fishermen found a fair-sized young sea lion almost whole in a shark's stomach about three years ago."

"That must have been the fish that swallowed Jonah," suggested Paul.

"He could have done it all right," the other boy agreed, "and he is about the only fish that could."

"There might be some in the bottom of the sea!"

"I don't think so, Paul. Mr. Collier told me on the steamer that in the very deepest parts of the ocean there were no fish, only worms and sea-cuc.u.mbers and things like that."

"If you'll listen a minute, sah," said the boatman, "yo'll heah somefin'

wo'se than eveh come from de bottom ob de sea."

"Worse?"

"Worse!"

The two exclamations rang like one as the two boys strained into attention. They listened intently and then across the water came a whisking rushing sound followed by a deep 'boom' and a distant splash.

It was several moments, too, before the swell from that splash reached the boat; when it did, the craft rocked noticeably.

"What is that?" asked Colin.

"Vampa, sah," answered the boatman, as he took his oars and started to row away in the opposite direction.

"Hold on a bit there," the sponge-buyer said, "I never saw a vampire.

What does it look like?"

"Some calls 'em sea-bat or devil-ray," was the reply, "an' the're twenty, thirty feet 'cross sometimes. They looks lak a sting ray. Ah don' wan' to see 'em."

"Isn't that a harpoon down there in the boat?" the capitalist asked calmly.

"Yes, sah, oh, yes, sah, but Lordy, sah, yo' can' do nuffin wif a sea vampa. No, sah. Why, jes' oveh yondah dey was a big schooneh towed out to sea by a vampa."

"A schooner?"

"Yes, sah, a seven'y-ton schooneh. Yes, sah. He mus' ha' been a big fellah an' goin' swimmin' along he struck de anchoh chain wif his hohns.

It made him mad, right mad, it did, an' he jes' heave up dat hyeh anchoh an' toted it off to sea, draggin' de ship wif him."

The owner of the _Golden Falcon_ laughed.

"Can you beat that? That's the worst fish story I've heard, Colin. You tell some good ones, too!"

"It's an old story," the boy answered, "and I believe it's true. They have often run away with boats."

The capitalist took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

"I've harpooned dozens of porpoises from the _Falcon_," he said, "but I never had a chance at a sea vampire. This begins to look interesting."

"The devil ray, or manta as it is often called, will give you a run for your money," said Colin, "and after all we can cut the line."

"We'll not cut any line," was the response. "Now, Pete, get after him."

But the negro fairly blubbered in terror.

"Lordy, lordy," he cried, "an' what yo' goin' t' do to a po' ol' niggeh.

Ah'll do an'thin' yo' say, Ah'll tell yo' de troof about de sponge fahms, an'thin', onl' don' go afteh dat vampa."

"You'll tell me the truth about the sponge farms, eh?" the prospective buyer remarked sternly. "So you were trying to put up a crooked deal.

I'll attend to you when we get ash.o.r.e. Now you row after that 'vampa,'

as you call it, and as quick as you know how."

The negro was about to refuse, but he did not dare.

"Oh, Lordy, boss," he cried, "don' go any neaheh. Yas, sah, yas, sah,"

he added as he saw the yachtsman make a move towards him, "yas, sah, Ah'll row. But we all gwine to be smoddehed alive. Ah jes' knows it."

Again, close at hand, came the swish and the dull 'boom,' and the negro shivered. Colin was conscious that his heart was pounding a little and he caught himself wishing that it were the middle of the day instead of evening. Then out of the water not ten feet from the boat a dark witch-like specter swooped into the sky, black, horned, with bat-like wings and a long naked tail like a gigantic rat.

Pete gave a squeal of fright.