re they could be brought aboard. Another difficulty lay
in the fact that, either because of the excessive heat in the air or the
percentage of alkali in the water, they spoiled almost immediately if
left in the air.

Turtle were everywhere--floating gray-green disks just under the
surface. Sea-birds in clouds clamored all day long about the shore and
sand-pits. At long intervals flying-fish skittered over the water like
skipping-stones. Shoals of porpoises came in from outside, leaping
clumsily along the edges of the kelp. Bewildered land-birds perched on
the schooner's rigging, and in the early morning the whistling of quail
could be heard on shore near where a little fresh-water stream ran down
to meet the ocean.

It was Wilbur who caught the first shark on the second morning of
the "Bertha's" advent in Magdalena Bay. A store of bait had been
accumulated, split and halved into chunks for the shark-hooks, and
Wilbur, baiting one of the huge lines that had been brought up on deck
the evening before, flung it overboard, and watched the glimmer of the
white fish-meat turning to a silvery green as it sank down among the
kelp. Almost instantly a long moving shadow, just darker than the
blue-green mass of the water, identified itself at a little distance.

Enormous flukes proceeded from either side, an erect dorsal fin, like
an enormous cock's crest, rose from the back, while immediately over the
head swam the two pilot-fish, following so closely the movement of the
shark as to give the impression of actually adhering to his body. Twice
and three times the great man-eater twelve feet from snout to tail-tip,
circled slowly about the bait, the flukes moving fan-like through the
water. Once he came up, touched the bait with his nose, and backed
easily away. He disappeared, returned, and poised himself motionless in
the schooner's shadow, feeling the water with his flukes.

Moran was looking over Wilbur's shoulder. "He's as good as caught," she
muttered; "once let them get sight of meat, and--Steady now!" The shark
moved forward. Suddenly, with a long, easy roll, he turned completely
upon his back. His white belly flashed like silver in the water--the
bait disappeared.

"You've got him!" shouted Moran.

The rope slid through Wilbur's palms, burning the skin as the huge
sea-wolf sounded. Moran laid hold. The heavy, sullen wrenching from
below twitched and swayed their bodies and threw them against each
other. Her bare, coo