“You need not tell me so,” said Johannes; “I can see that in your eyes, and I know it, my boy, from your words.”
“And you don’t think it absurd of me to want to try and use the harpoon?”
“Oh no. It is not so much an act of strength to dart a harpoon into a soft thing like a white whale, but of practice and knack. The shaft of the harpoon is so long and heavy, that if it is directed well and with good aim it curves over and falls with its own weight as well.”
“Then you will let me try!” cried Steve eagerly.
“If the captain is willing, of course you shall. I could sooner teach you to strike a whale than one of your sailors—Hamish or Andra.”
“Why?” said Steve eagerly.
“Because you are young and pliant, and eager to learn. You would throw it with your head as well as with your arm. They would throw it with the arm, and trust only to their strength.”
“Here, give us the telescope!” cried Steve. “I want to find a shoal and begin at once.”
“I daresay,” said the Norseman, smiling; “but oil-fishing is not so easy as that, or people would soon make fortunes. I have been on the look-out for hours, but there is nothing in sight.”
“But there’ll be plenty of walrus when we get to Spitzbergen?”