I must let the first one get a good hold and hit him on the point of the nose or straight across the top of the head,he thought.
“Don't be silly,”he said aloud.“And keep awake and steer.You may have much luck yet.”
He put his hands in the water again to soak them.It was getting late in the afternoon and he saw nothing but the sea and the sky.There was more wind in the sky than there had been,and soon he hoped that he would see land.
I must not think nonsense,he thought.Luck is a thing that comes in many forms and who can recognize her? I would take some though in any form and pay what they asked.I wish I could see the glow from the lights,he thought. I wish too many things.But that is the thing I wish for now. He tried to settle more comfortably to steer and from his pain he knew he was not dead.
He jammed the tiller,made the sheet fast and reached under the stern for the club. It was an oar handle from a broken oar sawed off to about two and a half feet in length. He could only use it effectively with one hand because of the grip of the handle and he took good hold of it with his right hand,flexing his hand on it,as he watched the sharks come. They were both galanos.
“You're tired,old man,”he said.“ You're tired inside.”