"An' I ain't none sorry to quit her," drawled Broncho serenely, "that's presumin' we-alls escapes boggin' down in this here quicksand."
"My God! Look out for yourself, Jack!" suddenly cried the boy in accents of horror.
A huge albatross was swooping down upon the rover.
These birds are the terror of a man overboard in the Southern Ocean. With their great curved beaks they attack the eyes of the castaway, who, from his position in the water, is but poorly placed for defending himself, and nearly always succumbs, his strength failing him in the unequal combat.
"Your knives, boys!" sang out Jack heartily, as if this new danger were nothing much to bother about.
Then with a lightning stroke he almost severed the great bird's head from its body.
With a splash it struck the water, and, after one wild flurry, lay motionless, floating on the wave with its head under.
"That's fine bowie-work as ever I sees," remarked Broncho. "That bird gets all he wants; he ain't askin' for more. He shore makes a sperited play, but he notes now as how he can't bluff Jack none."
"Bold, vicious bird, that!" commented Jack.