Tom devoured them with his eyes; and he struggled on, wondering, yet scarcely daring to hope--wondering whether the stone which Bruce was preparing to throw would drive back the monster. To him it seemed that Bruce was delaying for an unaccountable time. Why did he stand idle, when every moment was so precious? Why did he delay to throw? Why did he not do something? Why did he stand there as if rooted to the spot, doing nothing? Was there some new horror? Were the monster’s jaws already opened to seize his prey? Tom would have cried to Bruce to throw, but he could not speak. Not a sound could he utter. The thought came to him that Bruce was afraid to throw, for fear that the stone might strike him instead of the shark. What matter? Far better to throw, and run the risk. This he would have said, but he could not in that paralysis of horror. Suddenly a frown came over Bruce’s face--which frown as suddenly faded away, and was succeeded by a blank look, accompanied by an indescribable expression. The same changes passed over Arthur’s face. Tom saw it all, in his despair, and was bewildered. What was this? Were they deserting him? Would they give him up? Impossible! Yet it seemed as if they would. For suddenly Bruce’s uplifted arm descended, and the stones all dropped into the water. The blank look upon his face was succeeded by one of astonishment, which faded away into various expressions, which successively indicated all the varying shades of vexation, shame, and sheepishness. Arthur’s face was equally eloquent. Had not Tom’s feelings so pre-occupied him, he might have found a study in those two faces; but as it was, he was not in a position to think of such a thing; for these looks and gestures only served to inspire him with greater alarm. “They can do nothing,” he thought; and the thought brought to his soul a bitterness as of death. At this moment Phil’s feet touched bottom. He rushed up to Bruce and Arthur, and turned, as they had turned, to look back. And at the same moment the abhorrent sight appeared to Tom--of the black muzzle shooting through the water close by his right shoulder. Involuntarily he shrunk aside, with the thought that his last hour had come. XIII. _A Roar of Laughter from Bruce.--End of this tremendous Adventure.--Reticence of the whole Party on the Subject.--No one can taunt the other.--Departure from the Haunt of the Buccaneers.--The Antelope expands her white Wings, but in vain.--The Precautions of the venerable Corbet against dead Calms.--All labor at the Sweeps.--The Solace of Toil.--What Vessel are you gliding in?--Taking to the Boat.--Tumbling into Bed._ SUDDENLY a roar of laughter burst from Bruce. “It’s a dog! It’s a dog!” he cried.--“Tom’s shark’s turned out to be a dog!”