"Pull for the cable, Louis," shouted fifty voices at once--"pull for
the cable."
The boy did so--we all ran forward. He reached the cable grasped it
with both hands, and hung on, but before he could swing himself out of
the water, the fierce fish had turned. His whitish green belly glanced
in the sun--the poor little fellow gave a heart splitting yell, which
was shattered amongst the impending rocks into piercing echoes, and
these again were reverberated from cavern, to cavern, until they died
away amongst the hollows in the distance, as if they had been the faint
shrieks of the damned--yet he held fast for a second or two--the
ravenous tyrant of the sea tug, tugging at him, till the stiff, taught
cable shook again. At length he was torn from his hold, but did not
disappear; the animal continuing on the surface crunching his prey with
his teeth, and digging at him with his jaws, as if trying to gorge a
morsel too large to be swallowed, and making the water flash up in foam
over the boats in pursuit, by the powerful strokes of his tail, but
without ever letting go his hold. The poor lad only cried once more
but such a cry--oh God, I never shall forget it!--and, could it be
possible, in his last shriek, his piercing expiring cry, his young voice
seemed to pronounce my name--at least so I thought at the time, and
others thought so too. The next moment he appeared quite dead. No less
than three boats had been in the water alongside when the accident
happened, and they were all on the spot by this time.
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