will you be in time. Besides, we are armed, and as we go along we may perhaps have a shark hunt. It is a very interesting occupation. So to-morrow, Monsieur; and very early.”
And saying this in an airy manner, Captain Nemo quitted the saloon.
If you were invited to a bear hunt on the Swiss mountains what would you say? “Well, to-morrow we will go bear-hunting.” If asked to hunt lions on the plains of the Atlas, or the tiger in an Indian jungle, you would reply, “All right. It seems we are going to hunt the lion or the tiger (as the case may be).” But if you were asked to hunt the shark in his native element, you would, perhaps, request a little time to consider before accepting the polite invitation.
I passed my hand over my forehead as I mused, and found it covered with a cold perspiration.
“Let us think over this,” I said to myself; “and take our time. To hunt otters, as we did, in the forest of the Isle of Crespo is one thing, but to go down to the bottom of the sea where one is nearly certain to encounter sharks is another. I know very well that in some places—the Andaman Islands, for instance—the negroes do not hesitate to attack the sharks, a dagger in one hand a lasso in the other, but I also am aware that many of the venturesome individuals never return. Besides, I am not a negro; and even if I were, I do not think a little hesitation would be at all out of place under the circumstances.”
And so I dreamt of sharks, and of their vast jaws armed with rows of teeth capable of snapping a man in half. I already began to experience a curiously unpleasant sensation about the waist. But I could not understand the easy way in which the captain had given this deplorable invitation;
