The effect of the approach of the flying-maidens was so strange as to make them unfamiliar.  There was no sun to pour a liquid iridescence through their wings.  All the high lights of their plumage had dulled.  Painted in flat primary colors, they looked like paper dolls pasted on the inky thundercloud.  As usual, when they came in a group, they wove in and out in a limited spherical area, achieving extraordinary effects in close wheeling.

As the girls made for the island, a new impulse seized Honey.  He ran down the beach, dashed into the water, swam out to meet them.

“Come back, you fool!” Frank yelled.

There may be sharks in that water.

But Honey only laughed.  He was a magnificent swimmer.  He seemed determined to give, in an alien element, an exhibition which would equal that of the flying-girls.  The effect on them was immediate; they broke ranks and floated, watching every move.

To hold their interest, Honey nearly turned himself inside out.

At first he tore the water white with the vigor of his trudgeon-stroke.  Then turning from left to right, he employed the side-stroke.  From that, he went to the breast-stroke.  Last of all, he floated, dove, swam under water so long that the girls began uneasily to fly back and forth, to twitter with alarm.

Finally he emerged and floated again.

“He swims like a motor-boat!” said Ralph admiringly.

Suddenly Lulu fluttered away from her companions, dropped so low that she could have touched Honey with her hand, and flew protectingly above him.

The men on the beach watched these proceedings with a gradual diminution of their alarm, with the admiration that Honey in the water always excited, with the amusement that Lulu’s fearless display of infatuation always developed.

“Oh, my God!” Frank called suddenly.  “There’s a shark!”

Simultaneously, the others saw what he saw — a sinister black triangle swiftly shearing the water.  They ran, yelling, down to the water’s edge and stood there trying to shout a warning over the noise of the surf.

Honey did not get it at once.  He was still floating, his smiling, up-turned face looking into Lulu’s smiling, down-turned one.  Then, rolling over, he apparently caught a glimpse of the black fin bearing so steadily on him.  He made immediately for the shore but he had swum far and fast.

Lulu was slower even than he in realizing the situation.  For a moment, obviously piqued at his action, she dropped and hung in the rear.  Perhaps her mates signaled to her, perhaps her intuition flashed the warning.  Suddenly she looked back.  The scream which she emitted was as shrill with terror as any wingless woman’s.  Swooping down like an eagle, she seized Honey under the shoulders, lifted him out of the water.  His weight crippled her.  For though the first impulse of her terror carried her high, she sank at once until Honey hung just above the water.