"What can it be?" wondered Billy.
"Some sort of rare fish, I don't doubt," rejoined the professor.
"Let's row out and see."
The boys, nothing loath, shoved off, and as Ben and the crew of the boat were far too busy sounding and poking about on the reef to notice them, they rowed off unobserved.
The triangular object proved elusive, and after rowing some time, the boys found they had come quite a distance from the ship without getting much nearer to it. Suddenly a great, shining black back curved itself out of the water and the boys saw that the sharp triangular thing was an immense dorsal fin attached to the back of a species of whale they had not so far seen, although they had sighted many varieties since entering the Antarctic regions.
"Let's give it a shot," cried Billy, and before any one could stop him, the young reporter fired at the creature.
To their amazement, instead of diving, as do most whales when injured by a bullet or otherwise, the creature raised its blunt head and gazed at them out of a wicked little red eye.
"What—what—what's the matter with him do you suppose?" gasped Billy.
As he spoke the whale began lashing the water with its tail till the white foam spread all about it, slightly flecked with red here and there, in token that Billy's shot had struck it.
"I'm afraid that we are in for serious trouble," suddenly said the professor.
"Why, you don't mean that the creature is bold enough to attack us?" gasped Billy.