Again came a tremor of the ship—not one but several, as though a number of the whales had attacked at once, acting in concert against what they may have reasoned was a common enemy.
“Yes, let’s do something!” cried Judd. “I never saw anything like this in all my life, and I know something about whales. I never saw so many at once, and though I’ve known of them sinking small whaling vessels I never knew ’em to attack a big steamer. We’ve got to do something!”
“Then come on to the bow gun!” cried Jerry, and he raised his lantern from where he had lowered it over the side. The rays were still reflected from the wet and glistening backs of the whales as they swam about, now and then one butting his head against the steel sides of the Altaire.
Professor Snodgrass looked on in fascinated silence. And when Jerry removed the lantern, thus cutting off a further view of the immense creatures, the little scientist remarked with something like a sigh:
“I wish Dr. Hallet could see them.”
“Why, is he particularly interested in whales?” asked Bob.
“No, not whales particularly. But it would do him good to see these. It might be the very thing he needs!”
At the time Bob did not pay much attention to this remark. But afterward he thought it rather strange. If Dr. Hallet was not particularly interested in whales, why should Professor Snodgrass desire the other scientist to view them? And why would they do him “good”, if he had no special object in seeing them?
“I declare,” mused Bob, “the further you go into this thing the more mysterious it gets. I wonder what the real explanation of the feeling between Professor Snodgrass and Dr. Hallet is. I’ll wager we haven’t yet begun to get to the bottom of it!”
However, these thoughts came later. Just then the vital need of the moment was to deal with the whales, and this Jerry proposed to do by means of the bow gun.