Nevertheless, he said, he never felt so cold down his back as he did during that last wade.

By God's blessing the shark was not there, or did not see him; and he got safe home, thankful for dinner and quinine.
Going back the next morning at low tide, we kept a good look-out for M---'s shark, spreading out, walkers and riders, in hopes of surrounding him and cutting him up.

There were half a dozen weapons among us, of which my heavy bowie-knife was not the worst; and we should have given good account of him had we met him, and got between him and the deep water.

But our valour was superfluous.

The enemy was nowhere to be seen; and we rode on, looking back wistfully, but in vain, for a gray fin among the ripples.
So we rode back, along the Cocal and along that wonderful green glade, where I, staring at Noranteas in tree-tops, instead of at the ground beneath my horse's feet, had the pleasure of being swallowed up--my horse's hindquarters at least--in the very same slough which had engulfed M---'s mule three days before, and got a roll in much soft mud.