All this while the sawfish was doing its best to extricate its saw from the wreck of the boat. This was not easy, and the splinters continued to fly in all directions, while the flying spray reached even to those who watched the struggle. The fish was at least eight feet long, while the saw was a yard more, and it looked as if the yawl would be pounded and cut into bits before the conflict came to an end.
"Where in the world are Larry and Striker?" cried Hobson. "They can't be tangled up under that fish, can they?"
"God forbid!" murmured the Rev. Martin Wells. "Yet I see nothing of them," he added sorrowfully.
Captain Ponsberry now reappeared, harpoon in hand. In years gone by the captain had been a whaler, and the harpoon was one with which he had struck many a monster of the deep. A light line was attached to it, which he rapidly uncoiled.
"Now, then, make room, and I'll give the rascal a taste of this!" cried the master of the Columbia; and standing on the taffrail, he took careful aim and let drive. There was a short whiz; the harpoon was seen to pierce the sawfish's side, and in-
