“No, we can take turns being lookout. Only we don’t want to lose sight of the whale.”
This was agreed to, and, as he had suggested it, Andy was allowed to take his place in the bow and watch the progress of the immense animal. It was a large whale, probably seventy-five feet long and big in proportion. It was swimming slowly along, about half submerged.
“Don’t go too close,” advised the younger Racer boy, in memory of what had once happened to him when he first met the whale. “It may remember me and be anxious to finish up what it began.”
“Do you suppose it’s the same one?” Frank wanted to know.
“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said Bob. “There would hardly be two whales around here so close together, and both injured. That’s your whale sure enough. But Andy’s right, we must not get too near. It might take a notion to charge us.”
Accordingly they sheered off, and rowed along in a course parallel with that of the monster. They had paid little attention to where they were heading, and it was not until an exclamation from Frank drew their attention to it that they noticed how far away from land they were.
“We’ll have a fine long row to get back,” observed Andy.
“Yes, towing the whale, too,” added his bother.
“Maybe we’d better take a chance and make fast,” suggested Bob. “I think I can get my anchor line over that harpoon I see sticking out, and then we can begin towing.”
“Nixy on that!” exclaimed Andy quickly. “We don’t tackle any live whales. We’ll wait for this one to die.”