The Port of Peril

Grandon had never seen a killer-norgal, and so when he felt a sharp tug
at his trolling-line, and a magnificent specimen broke water, leaping
high in the air and shaking its head to dislodge the hook, he had one of
the greatest thrills that had ever come to him, intrepid adventurer
though he was. Its body, covered with glistening blue scales and
bristling with sharp spines, was about twenty-five feet in length. Its
enormous jaws, when distended, revealed row upon row of sharp,
back-curved teeth in a maw large enough to take in a dozen men at a
single snap.

Kantar the Gunner jerked the oily cover from his mattork, but before be
could bring it to bear on the huge fish, it dived out of sight.

Grandon kept a taut line on his quarry while the crew skillfully
maneuvered the little craft to follow its eccentric and exceedingly
swift motions as it dragged the boat farther and farther out to sea.
After more than an hour of this, the struggles of the monster became
slower, indicating that it was beginning to tire. During this time, it
did not once expose itself to the deadly aim of the watchful Kantar.

Suddenly, without warning, the line slackened, and although Grandon
reeled in with all his might, he was unable to pull it taut. He thought
at first that the fish had become unhooked, but the flash of a dorsal
fin, for a moment visible above the waves and coming swiftly toward the
boat, showed him the true situation. Kantar's mattork spoke, and the fin
disappeared, but it was not evident whether he had registered a hit.

One of the older sailors, an experienced norgal fisherman, said:

"Beware, Majesty. The killer is about to strike."

Dropping his tackle, Grandon seized an eighteen-foot lance which lay
along the gunwale beside him, and poised it expectantly. He had not long
to wait, for the enormous jaws suddenly emerged from the water not ten
feet from him. He plunged the keen point down the cavernous maw, and
Kantar's mattork spoke again and again, while the mighty jaws ground the
thick shaft of tough serali wood into splinters. Hurling the useless
butt from him, Grandon whipped out his sword, but he sheathed it again
as the great spiny body turned over and floated belly up after a few
convulsive flops. The blood which poured out through one of the gills
showed that the lance point had found the heart, and several round holes
through the head attested the marksmanship of Kantar.

The sailors were making the prize fast, chattering and laughing all the
while, when the keen-eared Kantar suddenly cried: "Listen, I hear
shooting!"

Every voice was instantly hushed, and there came, distinctly now, the
sounds of a terrific bombardment from the north.

"The camp is attacked," cried an old sailor.

"To the oars," ordered Grandon, "and crowd all the sail on at once. Cut
that fish loose. We must get there as soon as possible."

The huge, spiny carcass was cast adrift, and sails and oars were
speedily put into use. Yet, it seemed to Grandon that the swift little
boat, which fairly leaped over the waves under this double propulsion
moved with snail-like slowness.