"About six fathoms away, I should say—not more than fifty feet, certainly." The skipper glanced at Mr. Leman, who nodded confirmation. "They might be less than that, and we couldn't see them, nor they us. After the fog lifts—well, then there'll be fun!"
"They'll fight?"
Pontifex caressed his moustache and smiled softly.
"More or less—they'll try some deviltry on us first. Lay out some harpoons and shoulder-guns, Mr. Leman; we'll have a few tonite bombs ready. Corny, bring in those cases that I lined before I came up. We'll get back to work directly."
Dennis saw no good in making protests. There was no law here save that of the strongest, and Pontifex was dead right in carrying the fight to the enemy, aggression being nine points of fighting law. Besides, Pontifex was manifestly enjoying the prospect, and just at present Dennis was playing a waiting game and had no desire to bring about any crisis.
There being no time for more workman-like methods, an anvil and a cold-chisel were brought aft, with half a dozen harpoons, and two of the hands were set to work cutting through the iron harpoon hafts, just behind the spear-points. Now, modern whaling is carried out almost exactly as the New Bedford whalers did it a century ago, except for a small brass cylinder fastened to the haft of the harpoon. In this cylinder is carried a tonite bomb. Whether the harpoon be flung by hand or be fired from a shoulder-gun, it carries the bomb into the whale—and that ends the whale.
The points off the six harpoons, Mr. Leman made ready a couple of shoulder-guns and loaded the cylinders of the harpoons with bombs. As he observed, they might or they might not do much damage, but they would make a big noise when they hit; and with this intent the weapons were laid aside to be used in case of any aggressiveness on the part of the enemy. For the present, at least, the Japs seemed to be maintaining a careful silence.
"Well, Mr. Dennis," said Pontifex at length, "I'm going to resume my interrupted job; I guess I can lay a few more lines before quitting. Who's going down on your lines?"
"Why, I will—if you think it's safe," returned Dennis. "You're not going to knock off work, then?"
"On account of that yellow scum? I should say not!" exclaimed Pontifex. "Mr. Leman will do any fighting that's necessary while I'm down; and the Missus will see to it that nothing fouls our lines. But send someone else if you don't like the idea."