“Thrasher!” shouted Cap’n Pem.
The harpoonier picked himself up from where he had stumbled, as the deluge of water almost drowned him. He poised his iron and glanced about. Not a grampus was in sight.
“Dern his everlastin’ hide!” yelled Cap’n Pem. “Look out! There, he’s a-comin’! Strike him, Nat!”
As the old whaleman spoke, the big fin again ripped through the sea and with a grunt the boat-steerer heaved his long weapon. The next second the water was lashed into foam, the heavy manilla whale line was rushing through the chocks like a streak of light, and the heavy boat was tearing through the sea at express-train speed.
“Fast!” screamed Cap’n Pem, as he tugged and strained at his big oar.
Then, “Breachin’!” he cried, as once more the immense creature flung itself clear of the water. The boys, dazed, frightened, and gasping, saw that it was a gigantic shark with an enormously long tail.
Hardly had the thrasher struck the water again when the line ran out a few feet. Suddenly it grew slack and the boat came to a standstill.
“Drew!” exclaimed Cap’n Pem. “Consarn it, reckon we might’s well go back. Nary mite o’ use a-tryin’ fer them blackfish now.”
Crestfallen, the men took to the oars and started to pull back to the ship.
“What is a thrasher?” asked Tom, now that the excitement was over.