CHAPTER XII
THE CAPTURE OF A SAWFISH
"A Sawfish, sure as you're born!"
It was Tom Grandon who uttered the cry, and as the words left his lips, he pointed excitedly to the rear of the yawl, through which was thrust a dark, bony substance very much resembling the blade of a double whip-saw. Back of the yawl a big fish was floundering,—the sawfish itself,—churning the water into a white foam.
"Russell! Striker! where are they? " shouted Captain Ponsberry, and then turning, he darted towards his cabin, to bring up a harpoon hanging upon the hooks below.
"A sawfish! A shark!" yelled those who had been following the racers; and at once there was a wild scramble to gain the side of the Columbia. Ropes were thrown over by Tom Grandon and several others, and the men lost no time in clambering up to the deck. Then came a rush to the taffrail.
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