“Pull!” roared Johannes, and the men dragged at their stout ashen blades; and as the bull, which did not seem even staggered by the heavy bullets, plunged down from the side of the floe, the Norseman reached it and drove the harpoon right into its back, giving a twist with his wrist, and drawing back with the thin pine shaft, as the line ran rapidly out over the bows, following the walrus which had disappeared.
“No, missed!” cried one of the Norsemen from the second boat; and as Steve glanced in that direction he saw that they were pulling hard, apparently after nothing, for not a walrus could be seen.
Then, with Johannes erect in the bows, armed with his great lance, the boat was pulled in the direction in which the line was running out, and for a moment Steve was startled, for all at once a hundred heads almost together appeared above the surface some distance before them, there was a burst of sniffs and snorts as the animals took breath and instantly dived down again, their flippers appearing above the surface, and then they were gone.
The great bull appeared, too, and dived once more before the line was run out; and when the herd, after which the other boat was in full chase, had appeared in the same way two or three times, breathed, and dived again, Jakobsen began to manipulate the line so as to get a pull on the frightened beast, in whose tough hide the harpoon held fast. The consequence was that, while the mate was urging on the men in the other boat, the captain’s was being towed and the men lying on their oars.
Just then there was a shout from the other boat, for the last of the flying herd had been overtaken by hard pulling; and, watching his opportunity so as to pick out a finely tusked head, the Norse harpooner there had made a successful thrust, and they, too, were fast in a great bull.
The end for the poor beast first struck was now near; it was growing tired of trying to overtake the flying herd, which appeared and disappeared with wonderful regularity and exactness. It had the boat to drag as well as to force its mighty carcass through the water, and Jakobsen drew upon the line again and again, so as to get within striking distance when the animal ceased to make efforts to dive down.
“Let me come forward and send a bullet through it,” said the doctor.
“Better not, sir. It may charge us, and we can stop it better with our lances. If it got its tusks over the side, we should either have a plank ripped out or be overturned.”
“Do it your own way,” said the captain; and the words had hardly left his lips when Jakobsen stooped and rapidly picked up his lance, for the head of the walrus appeared above the water with its great six-inch bristles standing out above the gleaming tusks. And now it seemed as if it were determined to fly no more, but to wreak its vengeance upon its pursuers. With a loud, snorting noise it made a rush for the boat, its eyes looking wild and red, and the whole aspect of the great visage threatening to a degree.
Steve’s heart seemed to give a bound, for he was close to the bows, and only a few feet from the terrible-looking monster. Involuntarily he raised and presented his piece; but Johannes uttered a warning growl that sounded exactly like that emitted by Skene, who backed away amongst the men, snarling and showing his teeth, as if saying, “I’ve got plenty of fight in me, but it isn’t fair to expect me to tackle an arctic sea-elephant like that.”