Ned’s laugh at this sally seemed to relieve their feelings somewhat, and, when Sam told them he would only hold on a little while longer, in case they were still alarmed, they felt better.
“We can’t come to any harm,” the old sailor said. “No matter how far we go we can get back, and we’ll not have to row, either, the way we did in the old days.”
“But it’s a good distance to go to sea in a small boat,” objected Bob.
“This is big enough to cross the Atlantic in,” said the sailor. “All you want is plenty to eat.”
“Oh, we’ve got that,” Bob replied, brightening up, somewhat at the remembrance of the well filled lockers.
“Then don’t worry,” advised Salt Water Sam. “It’s a fine day and no sign of a storm.”
Then the boys decided to accept the situation. They knew they could make good time back, in their craft, and Jerry did not believe his mother would worry. Besides she had no idea that they had gone whaling. If she had, she might have been alarmed.
Then, too, there was something fascinating in the idea of being attached to a monster of the deep. The boys realized it was an experience they might never have again, though, for that matter, it is doubtful if they ever wanted it.
So, for an hour longer they sat in the boat and watched the waves rushing past them. As the reversing of the engine seemed to have no slackening effect on the whale’s progress, Jerry decided to shut the motor off, and so save gasolene.
Now and then Sam would stand up in the bow and take an observation. The boys could see nothing but the long, thin line extending from the craft and disappearing beneath the water.