“Do? Why don’t do anything!” said Jerry. “If we let ’em alone they may swim off, just as they swam up.”
As he spoke there came a more violent concussion to the vessel, and she seemed to heel over slightly.
“That was an old residenter who rammed us!” exclaimed Bob. “A few more blows like that, and we’ll start to leaking. If we only had a hand grenade or two or a bomb gun! Look, they’re clustering thicker than ever right in front of us!”
Indeed, by the rays of the lamp the sea was observed to be churned to foam by the milling of the huge creatures.
Again came a fearful blow on the ship’s quarter, and then Jerry cried:
“The bow gun! The bow gun! We can train that on ’em and shoot! That’s the way to get rid of the whales! Use the bow gun!”