so get away?" asked Ned.

"The sharks are too good at diving," went on Mr. Sander. "The
porpoises couldn't escape that way. Their only hope is that
something will scare the sharks away, otherwise they'll kill until
their appetites are satisfied, and that isn't going to be very soon
I'm afraid."

"Look! Look!" cried Ned. "A shark leaped half way out of the water
then."

"Yes, I saw it," called Tom.

There was now considerable excitement on deck. Nearly all the
passengers, many of the crew and several of the officers were
watching the strange sight. The porpoises were frantically tumbling,
turning and leaping to get away from their voracious enemies.

"Oh, if I only had my electric rifle!" cried Tom. "I'd make some of
those ugly sharks feel sick!"

"Bless my cartridge belt!" cried Mr. Damon. "That would be a good
idea. The porpoises are such harmless creatures. It's a shame to see
them attacked so."

For the activity of the sharks had now redoubled, and they were
darting here and there amid the school of porpoises biting with
their cruel jaws. The other fish were frantically leaping and
tumbling, but the strange part of it was that the schools of sharks
and porpoises kept about the same distance ahead of the ship, so
that the passengers had an excellent view of the novel and thrilling
sight.

"Rifle!" said Mr. Sander, catching at the word. "I fancy the captain
may have some. He's quite a friend of mine, I'll speak to him."

"Get me one, too, if you please," called Ned as the gentleman
hurried away.

"And I'll also try my luck at potting a shark. Bless my gunpowder if
I won't!" said Mr. Damon.

The captain did have several rifles in his stateroom, and he loaned
them to Mr. Sander. They were magazine weapons, firing sixteen shots
each, but they were not of as high power as those Tom had packed
away.

"Now we'll make those sharks sing a different tune, if sharks sing!"
cried the young inventor.

"Yes, we're coming to the rescue of the porpoises!" added Ned.

The passengers crowded up to witness the marksmanship, and soon the
lads and Mr. Damon were at it.

It was no easy matter to hit a shark, as the big, ugly fish were
only seen for a moment in their mad rushes after the porpoises, but
both Tom and Ned were good shots and they made the bullets tell.

"There, I hit one big fellow!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my bull's
eye, but I plugged him right in the mouth, I think."

"I hope you knocked out some of