It was the great albatross of the Indian seas, with an extent of wing beyond that of the largest eagle, and almost equalling the spread of the South American condor.

[Note 1.] They scarce looked at it, or even glanced above, they were looking below for the _zygaena_--scanning the surface of the water around them, or with their eyes keenly bent, endeavouring to penetrate its indigo depths in search of the monstrous form.
No shark in sight.

All seemed well; and despite the piteous appeals of the swimmer, now toiling with feebler stroke, and scarce having power to sustain himself they in the pinnace felt sure of being able to rescue him.
Less than a quarter cable's length lay between.

The boat, urged on by the oars, was still lessening the distance.

Five minutes more, and they would be close to their comrade, and lift him over the gunwale.
Still no _zygaena_ in sight--no shark of any kind.
"Poor fellow! he seems quite cured; we shall be able to save him." It was Captain Redwood who thus spoke.