and, to a certain extent, takes a share.  Like a fox-chase, it is ever new, and draws within its vortex every description of person.  Even the monkey, if there be one on board, takes a vehement interest in the whole progress of this wild scene.  I remember once observing Jacko running backwards and forwards along the after-part of the poop hammock-netting, grinning, screaming, and chattering at such a rate, that, as it was nearly calm, he was heard all over the decks.

“What’s the matter with you, Master Mona?” said the quarter-master; for the animal came from Teneriffe, and preserved his Spanish cognomen.  Jacko replied not, but merely stretching his head over the railing, stared with his eyes almost bursting from his head, and by the intensity of his grin bared his teeth and gums nearly from ear to ear.

The sharp curved dorsal fin of a huge shark was now seen, rising about six inches above the water, and cutting the glazed surface of the sea by as fine a line as if a sickle had been drawn along.

“Messenger! run to the cook for a piece of pork,” cried the captain, taking command with as much glee as if it had been an enemy’s cruiser.

“Where’s your hook, quarter-master?”

“Here, sir, here!” cried the fellow, feeling the point, and declaring it as sharp as any lady’s needle, and in the next instant piercing with it a huge junk of rusty pork, weighing four or five pounds; for nothing, scarcely, is too large or too high in flavour for the stomach of a shark.

The hook, which is as thick as one’s little finger, has a curvature about as large as that of a man’s hand when half closed, and is from six to eight inches in length, with a formidable barb.  This fierce-looking grappling-iron is furnished with three or four feet of chain, a precaution which is absolutely necessary; for a voracious shark will sometimes gobble the bait so deep into his stomach, that he would snap through the rope as easily as if he were nipping the head off an asparagus.

A good strong line, generally the end of the mizen-topsail-haulyards, being made fast to the chain, the bait is cast into the ship’s wake; for it is very seldom so dead a calm that a vessel has not some small motion through the water.  I think I have remarked that at sea the sharks are most apt to make their appearance when the ship is going along at a rate of somewhat less than a mile an hour, a speed which barely brings her under command of the rudder, or gives her what is technically called steerage-way.

A shark, like a midshipman, is generally very hungry; but in the rare cases when he is not in good appetite he sails slowly up to the bait, smells at it, and gives it a poke with his shovel-nose, turning it over and over.  He then edges off to the right or left, as if he apprehended mischief, but soon returns again, to enjoy the delicious haut gout of the damaged pork, of which a piece is always selected, if it can be found.