Two other boats meanwhile made fast to the furious animal.

Wheeling about in the foam, reddened with his blood, he crushed them as a tiger would crunch its prey.

All about him were men struggling in the water--twelve of them, the crews of the two demolished boats.

Of the boats themselves nothing was left big enough to float a man.
The ship was miles away.

Three of the sailors climbed on the back of their enemy, clinging by the harpoons and ropes still fast to him, while the others swam away for dear life, thinking only of escaping that all-engulfing jaw or the blows of that murderous tail.