Page 348 - The Tigris Expedition

The Tigris Expedition
length as it shot into their midst and provoked havoc in the pattern
of light. When the sea was black again, and the dim lights turned off
with the dolphins gone, a ten-foot hammerhead shark swam away,
fins above water, restless as if not yet satisfied with whatever he had
swallowed.
A minute after the giant predator was gone, the dolphins were
back with us to resume the procession. If possible, they seemed for a
while packed even closer together, with barely room for their
outstretched fins.
The hammerhead sharks were terrific hunters. They commonly
came at night when the dolphins could be caught by surprise, but
were active by day too. We once saw half a dozen escaping dolphins
leaping through the air as if in imitation of flying-fish. The last in
the row was thrown vertically into the air by the broad transversal
snout of a hammerhead shark, and fell down, out of control, right
into the terrific jaws of the waiting monster.
The hammerheads seemed the least trustworthy of all the sharks
we encountered. In contrast to most other sharks the hammerheads
never really kept us company. They appeared suddenly, patrolled
our surroundings, and rushed away. One fine morning I was sitting
peacefully on the airy outboard seat on the port side stern, with the
reed screen discreetly drawn around me, when someone on the
bridge shouted, ‘big shark astern!’ I happened to look straight down
between my feet and saw the ugliest sight probably ever seen in any
toilet. The broad, squalid head of a monstrous hammerhead slid
slowly into view right below my bottom. Never have I seen the
grim expression of that graceless species better. No other creatures
can have a more grotesque position of the eyes. The flaring,
hammershaped head was incredibly wide in front, drawn out to
either side almost like cheeks, but resembling broad moustaches
except for the small eyes at either extremity, with big nostrils at
their sides. The huge mouth, far behind and underneath, leisurely
swallowed up my paper as the displaced eyes seemed to gaze up at
me ready for the main course. The prospective man-eater was
apparently either nearsighted or as disgusted at what it saw as I was,
for it moved on. I did not even dare to lift my feet for fear of calling
attention to my near presence. The ten feet or more of grey-skinned
muscle slid slowly, very slowly, under my seat, and I could have
touched both dorsal and tail fin as they in turn passed under my
outboard enclosure, but until the tall tail fin sailed out of the toilet I
did not even rise to gather up my trousers.
When next I saw the beast it was behind us playing with the big

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