However, I did the best thing under the circumstances, obeyed orders and looked steadily astern, or up into the bronzed impassive face of my chief, who towered above me, scanning with eagle eyes the sea ahead.The other boats were coming flying along behind us, spreading wider apart as they came, while in the bows of each stood the harpooner with his right hand on his first iron, which lay ready, pointing over the bow in a raised fork of wood called the "crutch."All of a sudden, at a motion of the chief's hand, the peak of our mainsail was dropped, and the boat swung up into the wind, laying "hove to," almost stationary.The centre-board was lowered to stop her drifting to leeward, although I cannot say it made much difference that ever I saw.NOW what's the matter, I thought, when to my amazement the chief addressing me said, "Wonder why we've hauled up, don't ye?" "Yes, sir, I do," said I."Wall,"said he, "the fish hev sounded, an' 'ef we run over 'em, we've seen the last ov'em.So we wait awhile till they rise agin, 'n then we'll prob'ly git thar' 'r thareabonts before they sound agin." With this explanation I had to be content, although if it be no clearer to my readers than it then was to me, I shall have to explain myself more fully later on.Silently we lay, rocking lazily upon the gentle swell, no other word being spoken by any one.At last Louis, the harpooner, gently breathed "blo-o-o-w;"and there, sure enough, not half a mile away on the lee beam, was a little bushy cloud of steam apparently rising from the sea.At almost the same time as we kept away all the other boats did likewise, and just then, catching sight of the ship, the reason for this apparently concerted action was explained.At the main-mast head of the ship was a square blue flag, and the ensign at the peak was being dipped.These were signals well understood and promptly acted upon by those in charge of the boats, who were thus guided from a point of view at least one hundred feet above the sea.
"Stand up, Louey," the mate murmured softly.I only just stopped myself in time from turning my head to see why the order was given.Suddenly there was a bump, at the same moment the mate yelled, "Give't to him, Louey, give't to him!" and to me, "Haul that main sheet, naow haul, why don't ye?" I hauled it flat aft, and the boat shot up into the wind, rubbing sides as she did so with what to my troubled sight seemed an enormous mass of black india-rubber floating.As we CRAWLED up into the wind, the whale went into convulsions befitting his size and energy.He raised a gigantic tail on high, threshing the water with deafening blows, rolling at the same time from side to side until the surrounding sea was white with froth.I felt in an agony lest we should be crushed under one of those fearful strokes, for Mr.Count appeared to be oblivious of possible danger, although we seemed to be now drifting back on to the writhing leviathan.In the agitated condition of the sea, it was a task of no ordinary difficulty to unship the tall mast, which was of course the first thing to be done.After a desperate struggle, and a narrow escape from falling overboard of one of the men, we got the lone "stick," with the sail bundled around it, down and "fleeted" aft, where it was secured by the simple means of sticking the "heel"under the after thwart, two-thirds of the mast extending out over the stern.Meanwhile, we had certainly been in a position of the greatest danger, our immunity from damage being unquestionably due to anything but precaution taken to avoid it.
By the time the oars were handled, and the mate had exchanged places with the harpooner, our friend the enemy had "sounded,"that is, he had gone below for a change of scene, marvelling no doubt what strange thing had befallen him.Agreeably to the accounts which I, like most boys, had read of the whale fishery, I looked for the rushing of the line round the logger-head (a stout wooden post built into the boat aft), to raise a cloud of smoke with occasional bursts of flame; so as it began to slowly surge round the post, I timidly asked the harpooner whether Ishould throw any water on it."Wot for?" growled he, as he took a couple more turns with it.Not knowing "what for," and hardly liking to quote my authorities here, I said no more, but waited events."Hold him up, Louey, bold him up, cain't ye?" shouted the mate, and to my horror, down went the nose of the boat almost under water, while at the mate's order everybody scrambled aft into the elevated stern sheets.
The line sang quite a tune as it was grudgingly allowed to surge round the loggerhead, filling one with admiration at the strength shown by such a small rope.This sort of thing went on for about twenty minutes, in which time we quite emptied the large tub and began on the small one.As there was nothing whatever for us to do while this was going on, I had ample leisure for observing the little game that was being played about a quarter of a mile away.
Mr.Cruce, the second mate, had got a whale and was doing his best to kill it; but he was severely handicapped by his crew, or rather had been, for two of them were now temporarily incapable of either good or harm.They had gone quite "batchy" with fright, requiring a not too gentle application of the tiller to their heads in order to keep them quiet.The remedy, if rough, was effectual, for "the subsequent proceedings interested them no more." Consequently his manoeuvres were not so well or rapidly executed as he, doubtless, could have wished, although his energy in lancing that whale was something to admire and remember.
Hatless, his shirt tail out of the waist of his trousers streaming behind him like a banner, he lunged and thrust at the whale alongside of him, as if possessed of a destroying devil, while his half articulate yells of rage and blasphemy were audible even to us.
