It had seemed to me that the captain took some risk in his assertion, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
“Guess again,” said the mate of the other boat.
“You’ll find two fresh harpoons in him, with the cypher of my ship on them,” insisted Gamans.
The mate of the boat merely ignored our captain and gave orders to attach the tow-line. The men obeyed as if they were unaware that there were claimants of the whale in the neighborhood.
Captain Gamans was exasperated and shouted, “My ship’s harpoons are in that whale, and I claim the whole carcass, bone and all.”
“Keep on claiming,” replied the mate.
“I can see the line attached to the harpoon, and I’m going to keep on claiming my ship’s property, and I’m going to have it, too.”
“How are you going to get it?” inquired the mate, who now looked defiance, and kept changing the lance from one hand to the other, as if he was about to use it for some other purpose than on the bowhead’s body.
“I’m going to cut out them harpoons and examine them myself.”
“No, you’re not.”