There was quite an excitement amongst the men, who, without waiting for orders, saw to the tackle in the boats, Johannes and Petersen hastening to add white whale harpoons to the rest of the implements.
“Well, Steve, my lad,” cried the doctor, “what do you think of the shoal? You ought to have brought your fishing-rod and line.”
“Nonsense!” said the lad shortly; “but I say, Mr Handscombe, you don’t call these whales?”
“What, then, my lad? They’re white whales.”
“Young ones? Then that’s why they are white.”
“No, my lad, old ones. Look; plenty of them have got their two young ones with them.”
“Oh, but surely these are not full-grown whales! Why, the biggest can’t be sixteen feet long.”
“Quite right; about fourteen, I should say. Come down; you’ll want to go in one of the boats. Look; they’ve got in the lines.”
Steve looked down, and saw that the men were carefully stowing two tubs in the fore part of the boats, each tub containing, in carefully laid-down rings, about a hundred and fifty yards of strong line.
“But surely they’re not going to harpoon those baby whales like they do the big ones?”