“The line will go at the first struggle it makes,” replied the mate, “and there is no danger. A splashing is the worst thing that can happen. Let him do as he likes.”
“What’s the matter? What are you whispering about?”
“I was just thinking of cutting loose,” said the doctor, taking out a knife.
“No, no; let it be,” cried Jack. “Look here; we are nearly over it, and you can see how it tows us along by just gently waving its tail. Pull, Mr Bartlett; both of you pull.”
Bang!
At the fresh tightening of the line, which drew the bows of the boat partly over the fish, there was a tremendous blow delivered on the side, accompanied by a shower of spray, a violent ebullition which rocked them to and fro. Then the line hung slack, and the last fathom was drawn on board by the sailor, while the mate went down on his knees and examined the slight planking of the boat to make sure that it was not stove in.
“Oh!” groaned Edward; “look at that!”
“Any damage, Bartlett?” said the doctor hastily.
“No; but I was a little startled. What enormous power these creatures have in their tails!”
Jack laid down the boat-hook, looking rather serious.