the cries of the child) came to the scene of action, and with ready good will despatched the encaged monster. The shark is viviparous, and sometimes five hundred young ones, of about a foot in length, have been found in the stomach of the mother. The mouth is placed so far beneath the snout, that the shark is obliged to turn upon its back to seize its prey. The fins are large and strong, which enables it to dart quickly through the water, while the huge dorsal one may often be seen above the surface of the sea for a long time together, marking the spot where the dreadful creature lurks beneath. The bays and harbours of Antigua abound with this voracious marine animal, and woe betide the unfortunate swimmer who approaches its lair. On board the ship which first conveyed me to Antigua, was a remarkably fine and intelligent lad, “the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” He had been placed under the care of the captain of the ship, in order to gain some knowledge of the sea before sailing with his uncle, the master of a South Sea whaler. Robert had never quitted his fond parent before, and anxiously did he look forward to the end of his voyage, hoping that a letter from his mother would be awaiting his arrival at Antigua.[64] At length we gained our wished-for haven, and the passengers quitted the ship to seek their several places of destination. The packet had arrived, but there was no letter for poor Robert, who, with a disappointed heart, was obliged to wait the arrival of another mail. In the meantime, according to the rules of the merchant’s service, he was employed along with the other lads in many little duties aboard the ship, until one fatal Saturday, as he was drawing a bucket of sea-water from over the ship’s side, he overbalanced himself, and fell into the depths beneath. The steward, who was passing, raised an alarm; a boat was lowered, but without success, for he never rose to the surface. At length drags were procured, and (after an ineffectual search of some hours) his body was discovered, but the merciless sharks had made it their prey; the head, legs, and arms were gone, and his mutilated trunk alone reposes in the churchyard at St. John’s. It was an untimely and dreadful death, so far from the land that gave him birth; and the circumstance was rendered more affecting, by the arrival of the packet the next day, bringing a letter for him from his mother, expressing her hope of her darling boy’s quick return.