THE high-spirited Frank, smarting under a sense of injustice, and hardly able to bear the pain occasioned by his lacerated hands, suddenly became very reckless. The captain had no excuse for talking to him in that style after what he had done. A coward would not have been likely to take a defeated harpooner's place and plunge an iron into the first whale he had ever seen, and neither would he have worked as hard as Frank did to bring the boat into position; and that he did work, the crimson stains his hands left on the rope abundantly proved.
"I have had this boat alongside that whale three times," said Frank, to himself, "and if I get her there again she'll stay, unless something breaks. I'll make all fast; and if the whale goes down and takes us to the bottom with him, it can't be helped. I'll see who will be the first to act like a coward, the captain or I."
Had Frank carried this reckless resolve into execution, and had the whale sounded as soon as the line was made fast, the boat would not have been emptied of her crew more quickly than she was a moment later. The whale threw his flukes about in the most spiteful manner, but finding that he could not reach the boat with them, he gave signs of a change of tactics which created a panic among all the crew except Frank and the old boatswain's mate. Frank was not frightened because he did not understand them—in his case ignorance was bliss—but the sailor did, and he did not turn white this time either. He was about to be given an opportunity to make amends for his previous defeat, and he was ready to improve it.
"He's going to 'mill,'" said he in a low tone as he picked up his harpoon. "Don't slack an inch till I get a dart at him."
Before Frank could ask an explanation the whale raised his huge head from the water, dropped his jaw at right angles with his body and turning as quickly as a flash, started off across the course he had been pursuing. Frank, who was sitting with face forward so that he had a fair view of the whale and could see every move he made, stared at him in amazement; and while awaiting the issue of events with a calmness that surprised himself, eagerly responded to the harpooner's entreaty to haul in faster, although he believed that certain death awaited him. It seemed as if the boat would run squarely into the whale's mouth.
"Slack that line!" roared the captain, suddenly stopping his swearing and speaking in an imploring tone of voice. "Slack that line, and may Heaven have mercy on us! Stern all, for life!"
The Air seemed to be literally filled with pieces
of Planks, Harpoons, Ropes, and Lances.
Frank dropped the line, which seemed like a coal of fire in his hands, and the men laid out their strength on the oars till they fairly snapped. The first stroke stopped the boat's headway and the second started her on the back track, but not in time to escape the danger that threatened her. Before Lucas could throw his harpoon the whale's jaw swept around like a scythe, and striking the boat in the side overturned her in an instant, smashing in the planks as if they had been pasteboard, and tumbling those of the crew who did not jump out into the water.