“But,” said I, “it is not a question of fishing for them with an iron-swivel, hoisting them into the vessel, cutting off their tails with a blow of a chopper, ripping them up, and throwing their heart into the sea!” “Then, it is a question of——” “Precisely.” “In the water?” “In the water.” “Faith, with a good harpoon! You know, sir, these sharks are ill-fashioned beasts. They turn on their bellies to seize you, and in that time——” Ned Land had a way of saying “seize” which made my blood run cold. “Well, and you, Conseil, what do you think of sharks?” “Me!” said Conseil. “I will be frank, sir.” “So much the better,” thought I. “If you, sir, mean to face the sharks, I do not see why your faithful servant should not face them with you.”