"That ought to help some," said Colin, "and you see my coming didn't hurt anything. Just think if I had missed all that fun!"
"It turned out all right," the old whaler said, "but I tell you it was a narrow squeak. They'll have been worryin' on board, though, if any one has been able to see that we were hitched up to a gray whale."
"Isn't there any danger with other whales?"
"Wa'al, you've got to know how to get at 'em, of course. But all you've got to do is to keep out o' the way. There's no whale except the California whale that'll charge a boat. I did know one chap that was killed by a humpback, but that was because the whale come up suddenly right under the boat and upset it—they often do that—an' when one of the chaps was in the water the whale happened to give a slap with his tail an' the poor fellow was right under it."
Colin was anxious to start the old whaler on some yarns of the early days, but as the boat was nearing the ship he decided to wait for an opportunity when there would be more time and the raconteur would have full leeway for his stories.
"Forty-five-footer, sir," called Hank, as they came up to the ship. "Gray devil, sir."
The captain lifted his eyebrows in surprise, for he had not thought of a California whale so far north, but he answered in an offhand way:
"More sport than profit in that. Did you have a run for your money, Colin?"
"I certainly did, Captain Murchison," the boy answered.