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Various

"Stories from Everybody's Magazine"


By this time I was played out and gave up hope. The schooner was
still two hundred feet away. My face was in the water and I was
watching him maneuver for another attempt, when I saw a brown
body pass between us. It was Otoo.
"Swim for the schooner, master," he said, and he spoke gayly, as
though the affair was a mere lark. "I know sharks. The shark is
my brother."
I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping
always between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and
encouraging me.
"The davit-tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,"
he explained a minute or so later, and then went under to head
off another attack.
By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done
for. I could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on
board, but these continually fell short. The shark, finding that
it was receiving no hurt, had become bolder. Several times it
nearly got me, but each time Otoo was there just the moment
before it was too late. Of course Otoo could have saved himself
any time. But he stuck by me.
"Good by, Charley, I'm finished," I just managed to gasp.
I knew that the end had come and that the next moment I should
throw up my hands and go down.


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