Now the frail boat was within a few feet of the wounded whale. Cap’n Pem straightened up, grasped the lance firmly, braced himself, leaned slightly forward and, with a sudden lurch and a grunt which was audible to those on the bark, he drove the long-bladed lance deep into the creature’s side. Instantly, with a sweep of the oars, the boat darted back, and not a second too soon. Lashing the waves into a churning, boiling, seething mass of froth and foam, spouting blood which reddened the sea, lifting his great flukes and smashing them down in thunderous crashes, rearing his stupendous head and dropping it like a falling house, snapping, biting, sweeping to right and left with his immense jaw with its row of gleaming teeth, the whale went into his death flurry. Dodging the sweeps of his flukes, escaping by a hair’s breadth the terrible jaws, tossed about like chips on the crimson waves raised by the writhing titan beside them, the boats’ crews strove like madmen to preserve their lives and boats, while the skipper shouted and screamed from the crosstrees. The boys’ hearts beat like trip-hammers and the men on deck yelled in excitement. Then, with a final, convulsive shudder, the gigantic creature rolled over and lay still. From the boat came the glad, triumphant cry of “Fin out!” the whale was dead. Grabbing his old cap from his head, Cap’n Pem looked up and waved it towards the captain and the boys in the crosstrees, his features flushed with excitement and victory, a broad grin on his face.
“Reckon I ain’t fergot how ter kill a whale, eh, boys!” he shouted. “Ain’t had so much sport fer twenty year!”
The excitement was now over, and climbing down from their lofty perch, the boys went to the bark’s starboard rail and watched the process of getting the dead whale alongside. Quickly and deftly the two boats’ crews worked, getting a chain around the dead whale’s flukes, while, aboard the bark, spades and blubber hooks, hoisting tackle, cutting tackle and the other appliances for cutting in the whale were being made ready. The carpenter and his assistants were busy rigging the cutting stage to be slung under the ship’s gangway. The huge kettles for boiling the blubber were brought out, shavings and wood were placed in the try works ready for firing, and by the time the carcass of the whale was alongside, everything was in readiness for cutting in the blubber. Leaping onto the whale, one of the boat steerers quickly cut a hole in the blubber between the whale’s eye and his fin and in this, inserted a huge, iron hook attached to a tackle which led up to the mast. Then, standing upon the cutting stage, the men, armed with their long-handled spades, prepared to start the work. At this moment, the deaf mute, who had been sent aloft to clear the tackle, came down the shrouds with a rush, and unceremoniously yanking the busy Swanson from his work, whirled him about and began gesticulating wildly.
“Hi there!” yelled Cap’n Pem. “Get that dumb fool outer here. What’s he a thinkin’ on?”
“Yaas, sir,” replied the big Swede. “He say dere bane whale yust off der quvarter.”
“He does!” exclaimed the mate. “Run aloft, Mr. Kemp, an’ see if he knows what he’s a-talkin’ erbout.”
Reaching the crosstrees, the second officer glanced rapidly around and the next instant his startled shout caused every one to drop work and tools and scramble to the decks.
“Whale!” screamed Mr. Kemp. “It’s a German sub!”
With anxious faces the crew scrambled up the rigging, striving to get a glimpse of the U-boat while the boys and Cap’n Pem rushed to the after deck where Captain Edwards already stood, searching the sea with his glasses.
For a space the boys could see nothing and then Jim’s sharp eyes caught the slender periscope of the underseas boat and the tiny trail of white behind it.