He liked to think of the fish and what he could do to a shark if he were swimming free.I should have chopped the bill off to fight them with,he thought.But there was no hatchet and then there was no knife.
He jerked the tiller free from the rudder and beat and chopped with it,holding it in both hands and driving it down again and again.But they were up to the bow now and driving in one after the other and together,tearing off the pieces of meat that showed glowing below the sea as they turned to come once more.
He did not want to look at the fish.He knew that half of him had been destroyed.The sun had gone down while he had been in the fight with the shark.
The other shark had been in and out and now came in again with his jaws wide.The old man could see pieces of the meat of the fish spilling white from the corner of his jaws as he bumped the fish and closed his jaws.He swung at him and hit only the head and the shark looked at him and wrenched the meat loose.The old man swung the club down on him again as he slipped away to swallow and hit only the heavy solid rubberiness.
He saw the reflected glare of the lights of the city at what must have been around ten o'clock at night.They were only perceptible at first as the light is in the sky before the moon rises.Then they were steady to see across the ocean which was rough now with the increasing breeze.He steered inside of the glow and he thought that now,soon,he must hit the edge of the stream.