While Panurge was whimpering, the monster had got fairly into the Greek Y made by the fleet. It was the whale which began the fight. The moment it found itself inside the angle, and saw the ships on each side of it, it wheeled around and began to spout water by whole tons upon them. Then it was that the ships took up the war. They all set to work as though they were mad, to hurl against the whale on every side arrows, spears, darts, javelins, and harpoons. Never had there been seen such a storm of deadly weapons whistling through the air at one time.
You may be sure that Friar John did not spare himself.
Panurge nearly died from fright.
SHOOTING AT THE WHALE.
The artillery belched out largest balls; but they didn't do the least harm. All they did was to strike the monster's tough, black hide and slant off. When he saw how so much good powder was being wasted, Pantagruel thought it was high time for him to keep his promise to Panurge. He had, when a boy, a great name for throwing darts, javelins, and such missiles. There was not a man around the Royal Palace of Utopia who had not seen, more than once, his wonderful skill in dart-throwing; for, with his immense darts, which were so large that they looked very much like the huge beams that support the bridges of Nantes and Saumur and Bergerac, he used, standing a mile off, to open an oyster without breaking its shell; snuff a candle without putting it out; shoot a magpie in the eye; and he had even been known to turn over leaf after leaf of Friar John's breviary, and not tear one of them. Pantagruel had already found out that there was a fine store of darts in the ship, and he ordered a good supply to be laid on the deck before him. With the first dart, hurled with a mighty force, he struck the whale so furiously in the head that he pierced both its jaws and its tongue, making one piece of the three.
PANTAGRUEL TRIES HIS HAND.
This was a great victory. The monster could not spurt any more.
With the second dart he put out its right eye.