The whirl again was lowered, this time to the depth of twenty fathoms, but for half an hour or more not a shark could be distinguished; but as the waters far below seemed somehow to be troubled I could not help believing that some of the brutes at least were still there.
All at once, with a violent jerk, the cord was wrested from the boatswain's hands; firmly attached, however, as it was to the raft, it was not lost.

The bait had been seized by a shark, and the iron had made good its hold upon the creature's flesh.
"Now, then, my lads," cried the boatswain, "haul away!" Passengers and sailors, one and all, put forth what strength they had to drag the rope, but so violent were the creature's struggles that it required all our efforts (and it is needless to say that they were willing enough) to bring it to the surface, At length, after exertions that almost exhausted us, the water became agitated by the violent flappings of the tail and fins; and looking down I saw the huge carcase of the shark writhing convulsively amidst waves that were stained with blood.
"Steady! steady!" said the boatswain, as the head appeared above.
The whirl had passed right through the jaw into the middle of the throat; so that no struggle on the part of the animal could possibly release it.

Dowlas seized his hatchet, ready to despatch the brute the moment if should be landed on the raft.

A short sharp snap was heard.
The shark had closed its jaws, and bitten through the wooden handle of the hammer.

Another moment and it had turned round and was completely gone.
A howl of despair burst from all our lips.