“We’ve got plenty of rifles and ammunition,” declared Tom boldly, “in case anyone attacks us.”
“A good way to keep out of trouble, son, is not to go lookin’ for it,” was the captain’s response, “and anyhow, what good ‘ud your rifles be in a thick forest of trees with some sort of a savage behind each of ‘em?”
Tom looked abashed and said nothing. But Dick struck in with a question.
“There are savages ashore, then?” he asked.
“Wa’al, I ain’t sayin’ no and I ain’t sayin’ yes,” said the captain evasively; “but Brazil is full of river Indians, and at certain times of the year they come down to the coast to get turtles’ eggs and fish and so forth; and I’ve got a notion in the back of my head that they ain’t just as gentle and refined as they ought to be, ‘specially where they see a chance to get a little loot.”
Nothing more was said for some time, and the _Wondership_ forged smoothly and steadily ahead. Suddenly the captain, who had been looking over the side, drew their attention to the water.
“Look down there,” he said, “if you boys want to see a rare sight.”
They all peered over and saw, swimming slowly along in the translucent water, a large, whitish-colored fish with a huge protuberance of some kind sticking out from its head.
“By the plunging porpoises of Portugal,” exclaimed Dick Donovan, “what under the sun is it?”
“That’s right, lad, and an old slapper, too. My! That sword of his must be five feet long if it’s an inch. Look at the spikes sticking out from it!”
“Jimminy! I’d hate to get rammed by that,” cried Tom, gazing down at the great fish with its odd, bony sword.
“Gracious! If he ever took it into his head to attack us, he’d soon make a hole in the bottom,” cried Jack the next moment, as the sword-fish gave a quick twist of its tail and darted ahead.
“Plenty of cases have been known of sword-fish attacking ships,” declared the captain. “In 1894, the whale ship _Mary Ambree_ came into New Bedford with a big sword from a sword-fish stuck into her port quarter. It had broken off and was rammed about six inches into the wood. The fish that owned it must have died on the voyage up and rotted from its weapon.”
“That’s a peril we didn’t count on,” said Mr. Chadwick. “It would be a mighty serious matter for us all if that fish was to ram us, either by intent or mistake.”