“Now, my lads!” shouted the captain. “Look out! take a good aim! no false shots! Are you ready, Howick?”
“Quite ready, captain,” answered the boatswain, adding, “but it perplexes me altogether to see the brute so quiet all of a sudden.”
“It looks suspicious,” said the captain; “but never mind; go on! straight ahead!”
Captain Hull was becoming more excited every moment.
During the time the boat was approaching, the whale had only turned round a little in the water without changing its position. It was evidently still looking for its calf, which was not to be seen by its side. All of a sudden it gave a jerk with its tail which carried it some few yards away.
The men were all excited. Was the beast going to escape again? Was the fatiguing pursuit all to come over a second time? Must not the chase be abandoned? Would not the prize have to be given up?
But no: the whale was not starting on another flight; it had merely turned so as to face the boat, and now rapidly beating the water with its enormous fins, it commenced a frantic dash forwards.
“Look out, Howick, she’s coming!” shouted Captain Hull.
The skilful boatswain was all on the alert; the boat swerved, as if by instinct, so as to avoid the blow, and as the whale passed furiously by, she received three tremendous thrusts from the lances of the captain and the two men, who all endeavoured to strike at some vital part. There was a sudden pause. The whale spouted up two gigantic columns of blood and water, lashed its tail, and, with bounds and plunges that were terrible to behold, renewed its angry attack upon the boat.
None but the most determined of whalemen could fail to lose their head under such an assault. Calm and collected, however, the crew remained. Once again did Howick adroitly sheer aside, and once again did the three lances do their deadly work upon the huge carcase as it rolled impetuously past; but this time, so great was the wave that was caused by the infuriated animal, that the boat was well-nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized.
“Bale away, men!” cried the captain.
Putting down their oars, the other sailors set to work baling with all their might. Captain Hull cut the harpoon-line, now no longer required, because the whale, maddened with pain and grief for the loss of its offspring, would certainly make no further attempt to escape, but would fight desperately to the very end.
The finback was obviously bent on a third onslaught upon the boat, which, being in spite of all the men’s exertions still more than half full of water, no longer answered readily to the rudder-oar.
No one thought of flight. The swiftest boat could be overtaken in a very few bounds. There was no alternative but to face the encounter. It was not long in coming. Their previous good fortune failed them. The whale in passing caught the boat with such a violent blow from its dorsal fin, that the men lost their footing and the lances missed their mark.
“Where’s Howick?” screamed the captain in alarm.
“Here I am, captain; all right!” replied the boatswain, who had scrambled to his feet only to find that the oar with which he had been steering was snapped in half.
“The rudder’s smashed,” he said.
“Take another, Howick; quick!” cried the captain.
But scarcely had he time to replace the broken oar, when a bubbling was heard a few yards away from the boat, and the young whale made its appearance on the surface of the sea. Catching sight of it instantly, the mother made a fresh dash in its direction; the maternal instincts were aroused, and the contest must become more deadly than ever.
Captain Hull looked towards the Pilgrim, and waved his signal frantically above his head. It was, however, with no hope of succour; he was only too well aware that no human efforts could effectually hasten the arrival of the ship. Dick Sands indeed had at once obeyed the first summons: already the wind was filling the sails, but in default of steam power her progress at best could not be otherwise than slow. Not only did Dick feel convinced that it would be a useless waste of time to lower a boat and come off with the negroes to the rescue, but he remembered the strict orders he had received on no account to quit the ship. Captain Hull, however, could perceive that the apprentice had had the aft-boat lowered, and was towing it along, so that it should be in readiness for a refuge as soon as they should get within reach.
But the whale, close at hand, demanded attention that could ill be spared for the yet distant ship. Covering her young one with her body, she was manifestly designing another charge full upon the boat.
“On your guard, Howick! sheer off!” bellowed the captain.
But the order was useless. The fresh oar that the boatswain had taken to replace the broken one was considerably shorter, and consequently it failed in lever-power. There was, in fact, no helm for the boat to answer. The sailors saw the failure, and convinced that all was lost uttered one long, despairing cry that might have been heard on board the Pilgrim. Another moment, and from beneath there came a tremendous blow from the monster’s tail that sent the boat flying in the air. In fragments it fell back again into a sea that was lashed into fury by the angry flapping of the finback’s fins.
Was it not possible for the unfortunate men, bleeding and wounded as they were, still to save themselves by clinging to some floating spar? Captain
