“Watch it,” said Johannes quietly.
“Yes, I’ve got it right now. You can see the copper of the bottom shining in the sun, and—oh, she’s sunk! she’s gone down quickly, head first, and—why, it was a whale!”
“Hah! you were a long time getting to it, sir. Yes, a whale, a right whale, and a big one, too.”
“Well, quick!” cried Steve excitedly. “Why don’t you hail the deck, and tell them? We must have that.”
“How, sir? with a hook and line?”
“Nonsense! Do you think I don’t know? Have out the boats and harpoon it, the same as you did the white whale.”
The Norseman laughed softly.
“No, no,” he said quietly; “you can’t kill right whales like that, sir. You want proper boats with crews, and harpoons with long lines suitable for the work. Why, that fish would run away with all our lines in a minute at the first wounding. We must be satisfied with looking at it. Has it come up again?”
“Oh yes, and I can see it swimming about and playing in the water.”
“Nice little thing to play, sir. That must be seventy feet long.”