The Peril in the LagoonBy Loreto Paras- Sulit

The lagoon lay in a quiet hidden sort of splendour. The fine beach sloping gently into it from the green hills beyond invited the first newcomer for a dip and swim in its clear waters.

“We are coming! Here we come!” gaily shouted the three boys, throwing their camping things right and left their excitement.

“You have to put up the tent first,” quietly reminded nearby. “And you have to listen to a few must’s and must- not’s before you go venturing in that lagoon.

“Oh Uncle!” chorused the three in disappointment. What was wrong with you uncle? He was not a killjoy, no, not. Uncle Sidro who in the past was always the first to push them into adventure, hunting, fishing, swimming, treasure- hunting. When the three boys first learned that Uncle Sidro had bought a house near this lagoon, they knew that next summer they would surely be invited to come over. And they were.

The plan for the summer was that the boys cook their own meals- and be on their own. For Tony the eldest of the three fatherless brothers, was now sixteen, David was fourteen, and Berting was twelve.

After the summer heat and closeness of the city, after their examinations and lessons, all this was certainly a boy’s dream of paradise. Now here was Uncle Sidro dampening their spirits with his must’s and must not’s.

Swiftly they put up their tent, arranged their sleeping bags and things, which out of long practice and frequent camping they did quite well and quickly.

In between, they threw sidelong glances at Uncle Sidro, who smoked cigar after cigar as he sat on camp stool nearby. Finally when the boys at last few threw satisfied looks around, he spoke :”Well, boys, I guess you are all set to begin your vacation. You can do anything you wish but swim in the lagoon.”

“Oh, Uncle Sidro,” was all they could manage. The helpless glances they threw at the shining lagoon beyond revealed more eloquently their shattered palns and dreams.

“You see boys,” Uncle Sidro started to explain, “you have to understand and help me, I am responsible to your mother for your safety. She has always entrusted you to me as you know. When I invite you here for a vacation, I did not count on a shark slipping in one night into the lagoon and upsetting all our plans.”

“Oh so it is only a shark,” laughed Tony.

There was no answering smile from Uncle Sidro, “Only one, but the most vicious and murderous man- killer, if ever there was one,” he rejoined instead. “Unless it is killed or driven out of the lagoon, no one can swim there in safety. I don’t dare to trust you in that lagoon even if only to wet your feet. And as the past, boys, I shall always count on your ‘honor bright’. With that he left them.

“We may as well go home,” was Berting’s moody reaction. “My ‘honor bright’ will not stand the temptation of the lagoon.”

David, always the silent type, fingered his hunting knife thoughtfully. “I guess that shark has to be killed. But how do we go to it and find it without breaking our word to Uncle Sidro?”

“Kill the shark, eh?” repeated Tony softly. “What has been your experience along that line, my fine sir? Perhaps you think you are a Tarzan or a Superman?”

“I am going out for a walk along the beach.” Was David’s reply. He knew the two would tag along.

They could not walk along the beach. They had to run and jump and shout. The beach was smooth under their feet. The wind was sharp and cool, slapping them into life, into action, and the water, just a stone’s throw away, was sparkling and blue. Oh, to be this alive and bounding and yet be helpless!

They looked at it in silence, each revolving in his mind plans of how to remove the barrier between them and that inviting lagoon. Suddenly a gray fin darted out of the water, and a flying streak sped across the lagoon. The waters were so transparent that it was not difficult to see what swam in them. The Grey Killer was about!

Perhaps not all Uncle Sidro’s repeated warnings could have sobered them up as quickly as that swift glimpse of the Grey Killer.

“He seems to be about this morning. Suppose, we try a little deep sea fishing. If we catch him, we’ll haul him to the shore. He won’t have any advantage once stranded on land.” The swift plans of Tony left the other two looking at each other inquiringly. They were used to the whirlwind decision of Kuya Tony, and like good followers, since they did not have better plans to offer, kept quiet and followed.

Uncle Sidro have furnished them with a sturdy sailboat. He had only forbidden them to swim or wet their feet. Well, they would do neither. Going into some kind of action was better than not having to try anything. The fishing tackle was brought out in a hurry. “Don’ forget your knives,” reminded David. The sailboat hidden in the cave below their camp was untied and so out in the quiet, shining lagoon they sailed, their hearts beating rapidly.

The boys were well- versed in various fishing methods for Uncle Sidro had derived his wealth from the sea and the boys, every summer, went on fishing tips with him.
Half an hour’s sailing on the smooth waters of the lagoon revealed no sign of their prey. It only made them more determined to succeed for the hidden beauties of the lagoon, its promises for endless fishing and for exploration were unfolded.
The sun was fast climbing overhead and its glint on the water leapt back into theoir eyes. Berting was for giving it up and returning to the shore when a sharp tug at the end of their line startled them. David who was at the end of the boat, peered into the waters excitedly.

There was a sharper tug and David shouted, “ He’s caught! He’s –“ The rest was lost, for he tumbled into the water, into the very open jaws of the shark. The hook had caught at the end of the lower jaw, but in its frantic lashing it was able to tear it away.

The lagoon darkened with blood but not before the two brothers in the boat glimpsed the infuriated shark turning on David. David swam away, while the boat raced to rescue him.

For David had tangled up with the shark and with the two well- aimed plunges of his hunting knife finished the Grey Killer. From the boat overhead tangled the line that first caught the shark. Swiftly he hooked it to the line and then swam up gasping and exhausted to be pulled up into the boat.

On the shore a grave- faced Uncle Sidro waited as the three boys breathlessly unloaded the long shark onto the shore. They waited guiltily for the scolding, but the twinkle in Uncle Sidro’s eyes made them sigh and relief.

“Well boys,” he asked, “whose name shall appear on the medal I’ll donate for the shark killer?

But the boys were solemnly measuring the shark and a long whistle came from Tony. “Never mind the medal, Uncle,” said Berting. “Isn’t there a company that buys sharks from fishermen? Let us sell this one and buy a grand gift when we return to the city!” But is two brothers were not within hearing distance anymore.

They had plunged straight into the lagoon and were splashing and shouting like two joyful tortoises.