“Stan’ by to lower away the sta’board boats,” roared the old whaleman.
Then, as the yards were swung and the schooner came to a standstill, the boats were lowered, the men tumbled in, and to the pull of the six long ash oars in each, they went racing towards the school of blackfish.
To the boys’ delight, they were allowed to go after the grampus, for they had always longed to go in one of the boats as it dashed across the waves after a whale. To be sure “going on” the blackfish was not the same as attacking a monster cetacean. But it was the nearest thing to it, and both Tom and Jim thrilled with excitement as the ash oars bent to the brawny muscles of the men, and the keen-stemmed boat fairly leaped through the water.
Cap’n Pem was as excited as if he were after a real whale. Standing at the huge steering oar, with his hair flying, he shouted to the straining crew.
“Lift her, lads!” he cried. “Get in on the pesky critters! Don’t let that there swab o’ a secon’ mate git fust! Git arter ’em, ye lubbers!”
Forward the harpoonier or boat-steerer laid aside his oar and unsheathed a keen-pointed harpoon or “iron,” a lighter weapon than the one the boys had seen used for sperm whales. Bracing his knee in the clumsy cleat, he stood ready to strike the blackfish that were now but a few hundred feet distant.
Close behind came Mr. Kemp’s boat, his crew striving their utmost to reach the grampus in time to make a strike before the fish were frightened. Almost side by side the two boats swept upon the unsuspecting creatures.
Nearer and nearer the boat crept. The boat steerer raised his weapon, braced himself, every muscle taut, and was on the point of heaving the iron at a huge grampus a few yards ahead when Tom let out a terrified yell.
Within a few feet of the boat a huge, triangular fin had cut through the water and the next instant an immense body hurled itself into the air and, with a sweep of its stupendous tail, struck the water with a blow like a bursting shell, drenching the occupants of the boat.