ng that contained it with several
folds of the spare sail-cloth, in order that no ray of the sun should
get near it. This precaution was at once adopted.

The flesh of the shark--now dead as mutton--if left to itself, would
soon spoil, and be unfit for food, even for starving men. It was this
reflection that caused the sailor and his _protege_ to take counsel
together as to what might be done towards preserving it.

They were not long in coming to a decision. Shark-flesh, like that of
any other fish--like haddock, for instance, or red herrings--can be
dried in the sun; and the more readily in that sun of the torrid zone
that shone down so hotly upon their heads. The flesh only needed to be
cut into thin slices and suspended from the upright oars. The
atmosphere would soon do the rest. Thus cured, it would keep for weeks
or months; and thus did the castaways determine to cure it.

No sooner was the plan conceived, than they entered upon its execution.
Little William again seized the cord of sennit, and drew the huge
carcass close up to the raft; while Ben once more opened the blade of
his sailor's knife, and commenced cutting off the flesh in broad
flakes,--so thin as to be almost transparent.

He had succeeded in stripping off most of the titbits around the tail,
and was proceeding up the body of the shark to _flense_ it in a similar
fashion, when an ejaculation escaped him, expressing surprise or
pleasant curiosity.

Little William was but too glad to perceive the pleased expression on
the countenance of his companion,--of late so rarely seen.

"What is it, Ben?" he inquired, smilingly.

"Look 'ee theer, lad," rejoined the sailor, placing his hand upon the
back of the boy's head, and pressing it close to the edge of the raft,
so that he could see well down into the water,--"look theer, and tell me
what you see."

"Where?" asked William, still ignorant of the object to which his
attention was thus forcibly directed.

"Don't you see somethin' queery stickin' to the belly of the shark,--eh,
lad?"

"As I live," rejoined William, now perceiving "somethin'", "there's a
small fish pushing his head against the shark,--not so small either,--
only in comparison with the great shark himself. It's about a foot
long, I should think. But what is it doing in that odd position?"

"Sticking to the shark,--didn't I tell 'ee, lad!"

"Sticking to the shark? You don't mean that, Ben?"

"But I do--mean that very thi