“Steam whalers—Scotch and Skowhegians take ’em,” replied Mr. Kemp. “But you got to have harpoon guns and bomb lances and three inch cables and steam winches to get ’em.”
By now the whale which had been the subject of the conversation was within plain view from the deck, and the boys fairly gasped as they noted its enormous size. An instant later it had caught sight of the schooner and in a swirl of foam sounded and disappeared.
“Well, we’re still learning,” laughed Tom. “I always thought whales were whales, but I know now that there are whales and whales.”
CHAPTER IX
THE WALRUS HUNT
Hour after hour the Narwhal sailed steadily on, and ever as she proceeded, the floating ice and lofty drifting bergs grew larger and more numerous. When the shores of Baffin Island at last rose above the sea, the water was only visible as narrow lanes of green amid the wide stretch of rough ice. How the schooner could ever get through the vast field with its bobbing close-packed cakes and its towering bergs, was a mystery to the boys. They watched intently as old Cap’n Pem, now in charge as ice pilot, bawled out quick, sharp orders, and at his commands, the helm was shifted, yards were swung and sails trimmed instantly as the Narwhal tacked and turned and twisted and threaded her devious way through the narrow leads. Often after the schooner’s passage, the ice, disturbed by her wake, would drift across the channels, and soon the boys, looking astern, could see nothing but the vast field of ice showing no sign of the open water by which they had entered.
Here, too, the boys saw why the topsail schooner was such a favorite with Arctic whalemen. To be sure, Cap’n Pem had already explained it to them when they had first discussed the Narwhal’s rig, but until they actually saw it demonstrated they did not fully realize how handy the rig was amid the ice. Often, as the vessel plunged forward along a narrow lead, the passage would end in an impenetrable barrier, and the boys held their breaths as the schooner seemed about to dash into the mass of ice. But each time the old whaleman’s voice would roar out an order. The men, ready at sheets and braces, would bend to the ropes and, as the huge topsail yard swung about, the Narwhal would slow down, hesitate, and at the very instant the boys expected to hear the splintering of ice and the crashing of shivered planking, the schooner would begin to move backward. But at last the leads became so narrow, so tortuous and so choked with ice that Cap’n Pem declared they could go no farther.
“Reckon we’d better be gettin’ out ice anchors, an’ lyin’ here till she opens up,” he declared, addressing Captain Edwards. “Soon’s wind or tide changes, the derned ice’ll begin ter move.”