Page:Bedford-Jones--Boy Scouts of the Air at Cape Peril.djvu/118

 "Good heaven!" almost shrieked the ordinarily stolid pilot. "A shark, it's a shark!"

Jimmy, after scrambling to his feet, had dragged up the terrified Cat, and the two, hugging one another and shuddering, were staring down at the object of their terror.

"For heaven's sake, hold on! Don't slip, your life depends on it," cried Turner as without a moment's hesitation he vaulted from the cockpit, dragging the pole out after him. Supporting himself by the framework of the well with one hand, he thrust the hooked end of the pole with unerring aim with the other straight into the gaping maw of the monster and, with a powerful twist of the wrist, jabbed and dug the iron in behind the triple teeth of his prey. Instantly the shark began to writhe and squirm and flip his huge tail so convulsively that the airship was shaken from stem to stern. For the man, it was question of releasing the pole in a very few seconds or being dragged overboard.

"Cat—Jimmy!" he yelled, "my pistol here—belt—shoot—head or belly—quick—quick!"

The two lads, forgetting their own plight in