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Again and again he lunged and stabbed, until the water round the rocking boat was dyed crimson. There seemed to be no end to the sharks. Fins crisscrossed the water all about and cut in toward the swordfish in quick, savage rushes. Percy was becoming exhausted; his arms ached; his breath came short. He could not keep up the fight much longer. Where was the Barracouta?
It was wrapped in newspapers which had cracked away here and there over the end of a rib; but it was enclosed in a network of strings that crossed and crisscrossed like a hammock. "I thought you might just as well take it right along with you," she said. "You can send me the money in a letter, if it's all right, but land knows when you will be here again, and I hain't got anybody to send it by."
As the days of early spring trapping approached, and the wilderness for a hundred miles around the post was crisscrossed with the trails of the Cree and Chippewayan fur-seekers, Cummins was absent for days at a time, strengthening the company's friendships, and bargaining for the catch that would be coming to market about eight weeks later.
And beyond, the barns, the dairy, the tall silos standing like lookout towers, the alfalfa-fields crisscrossed with irrigating ditches, and still farther on, the pasture-lands where the big herd of cows was grazing. Here the valley was spread out until from side to side it measured something more than four miles.
They crossed and crisscrossed the trail, appearing now in front, now behind, now on either side the wounded bull, evidently closing in upon him warily. Here and there was a depression in the snow where one had crouched, growling, as the game passed. Then the struggle began.
A display-window, denuded of frippery but strewn with straw and crisscrossed with two large strips of poster, proclaimed Chicklet Face Powder to the cosmetically concerned.
Monitaya's outguards had failed and the malocas were surrounded. Loping from the bush fringing the stream came a score of yellow-faced, shirtless, barefooted brutes crisscrossed with cartridge belts and gripping rifles. At their head loomed a burly black-whiskered creature with a revolver in each hand the malignant Schwandorf himself.
The crisis in the history of Clark's Field seemed approaching. It was time. The fence of high white palings that Samuel had jealously maintained about his old field had long since completely disappeared. Latterly the neighbors crisscrossed the vacant portions of the Field with short cuts and contractors either dumped refuse upon it or burrowed into it for gravel.
They followed Astro's pointing finger to the ceiling. Crisscrossed, from wall to wall, were heavy wooden beams. "Raft!" Tom cried. "That's right, spaceman," said Astro, "a raft. There's enough wood up there to float the Polaris. Come on!" Astro hurried outside, with Tom and Roger following at his heels.
For a few minutes the glimmer of pale, crawling tides was everywhere beneath them, then league on league of gray-green, sedgy marsh, interlaced with little pools and lanes of bright water, and crisscrossed with ranks of bulrush. The leader of the flock now stretched his dark head downward, slowing the beat of his wings, and the disciplined array started on a long decline toward earth.
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