Such was the exclamation of Sambo, in the best English he had been able to pick up, in a few years’ service, in unlading the American vessels, that came to the Havana.  It was intended to apprise the bold but inexperienced stranger, that the waters were filled with sharks, and that it was dangerous to swim in them.  The words were scarcely uttered, and, even if they were heard, had not time to produce their effect, when Cuffee responded to the exclamation of his sable colleague, with—­

“Oh, Madre de Dios! see, see, de tiburon! de shark!—­ah, San Salvador! ah, pobre joven! matar, todo comer, he eat him all down, berry soon!”

This second cry had been drawn from the kind-hearted negro, by seeing, at a distance in the water a smooth-shooting streak, which an inexperienced eye would not have noticed, but which Sambo and Cuffee knew full well.  It was the wake of a shark.  At a distance of a mile or two, the shark had perceived his prey; and, with the rapidity of sound, he had shot across the intervening space, scarcely disturbing the surface with a ripple.  Cuffee’s practiced eye alone had seen a flash of his tail, at the distance of a mile and a half; and, raising his voice to the utmost of his strength, he had endeavored to apprise the incautious swimmer of his danger.  Brook heard the shout, and turned his eye in the direction in which the negro pointed; and, well skilled in all the appearances of the water, under which he could see almost as well as in the open air, he perceived the sharp forehead of the fearful animal rushing toward him, head on, with a rapidity; which bade defiance to flight.

[Illustration:  Escape from A shark]

In a moment, the dreadful monster had shot across the entire space that separated him from Brook; and had stopped, as if its vitality had been, instantly arrested, at the distance of about twelve feet from our swimmer.  Brook had drawn himself up in the most pugnacious attitude possible, and, was treading water with great activity.  The shark, probably unused to any signs of making battle, remained, for one moment, quiet; and then, like a flash of lightning, shot sidelong off, and came round in the rear.  Brook, however, was as wide awake as his enemy.

The plashing of the oars of Sambo and Cuffee warned the sagacious monster of gathering foes.  Whirling himself over on his back, and turning up his long, white belly, and opening his terrific jaws, set round with a double row of broad, serrated teeth, the whole roof of his mouth paved with horrent fangs, all standing erect, sharp, and rigid, just permitting the blood-bright red to be seen between their roots, he darted toward Brook.  Brook’s self-possession stood by him in this trying moment.  He knew very well if the animal reached him in a vital part, that instant death was his fate; and, with a rapid movement, either of instinct or calculation, he threw himself backward, kicking, at the same moment, at the shark.  In consequence of this movement, his foot and leg passed into the horrid maw of the dreadful monster, and were severed in a moment,—­muscles, sinews, and bone.  In the next moment, Sambo and Cuffee were at his side; and lifted him into the boat, convulsed with pain, and fainting with loss of blood.  Brook was taken on board, bandages and styptics were applied, and in due season the youth recovered.