On came the whale. Every moment seemed to increase the terrific speed of the maddened animal. Frantically the boys labored to get out of the way, but it was almost impossible until the air-propellers should start, and send the Comet skimming over the surface.
“Have you the water-screw going?” called Jerry to Ned.
“Yes, and it’s speeded up as high as it will go! Can’t you get that motor started?”
“Can’t seem to.”
“Hurry! Hurry!” yelled Bob. “She’ll ram us in another second or two!”
“We’ll be destroyed if she does!” muttered Professor Snodgrass. “Oh, my precious collection! My valuable specimens! What shall I do?”
He rushed here and there, trying to gather all his boxes in one pile, and then to take them under his arms, but they continually fell out.
“It’s no use!” cried Jerry, at length. “I can’t get this motor started. Get ready to jump, when the whale hits us! Grab life-preservers—make for the wreck and cling to that, for there’ll be nothing left of the Comet!”
He abandoned his attempt at the air-propeller motor. The water-screw was sending the craft ahead at fairly good speed, but nothing to the progress made by the whale. She was almost upon them.
The boys made ready to jump, preparing to abandon their beloved craft, when a curious thing happened. In front of the oncoming whale was a big mound of green water, piled up by the enormous blunt head of the leviathan, just as in front of some blunt-nosed scow there is a wave. In this case, such was the speed of the animal, that the wave actually hid the big head from sight.