The sharks did not hit him again until just before sunset.
One came,finally,against the head itself and he knew that it was over.He swung the tiller across the shark's head where the jaws were caught in the heaviness of the fish's head which would not tear.He swung it once and twice and again. He heard the tiller break and he lunged at the shark with the splintered butt.He felt it go in and knowing it was sharp he drove it in again.The shark let go and rolled away.That was the last shark of the pack that came.There was nothing more for them to eat.
What could I buy it with?He asked himself.Could I buy it with a lost harpoon and a broken knife and two bad hands?“You might,”he said.“You tried to buy it with eighty-four days at sea.They nearly sold it to you too.”
I cannot be too far out now,he thought.I hope no one has been too worried. There is only the boy to worry, of course.But I am sure he would have confidence.Many of the older fishermen will worry.Many others too,he thought.I live in a good town.