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.
The old man watched for him to come again but neither shark showed.Then he saw one on the surface swimming in circles.He did not see the fin of the other.
The sharks did not hit him again until just before sunset.
But if I had,and could have lashed it to an oar butt,what a weapon.Then we might have fought them together.What will you do now if they come in the night?What can you do?“Fight them,”he said.“ I'll fight them until I die.”
He could not talk to the fish anymore because the fish had been ruined too badly.Then something came into his head.
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 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.