Dick Sands, the Boy Captain

by Jules Verne

The pursuit, or what may be more aptly termed "the towing," of the whale had now fairly commenced. The sailors had shipped their oars, and the whale-boat darted like an arrow along the surface of the waves. In spite of the oscillation, which was very violent, Howick succeeded in maintaining equilibrium, and did not need the repeated injunctions with which the agitated captain urged his boatswain to be upon his guard.

But fast as the boat flew along, she could not keep pace with the whale, and so rapidly did the line run out that except proper care had been taken to keep the bucket in which it was coiled filled with water, the friction against the edge of the boat would inevitably have caused it to take fire. The whale gave no indication of moderating its speed, so that the first line was soon exhausted, and the second had to be attached to its end, only to be run out with like rapidity. In a few minutes more it was necessary to join on the third line; it was evident that the whale had not been hit in a vital part, and so far from rising to the surface, the oblique direction of the rope indicated that the creature was seeking yet greater depths.

"Confound it!" exclaimed the captain; "it seems as if the brute is going to run out all our line."

"Yes; and see what a distance the animal is dragging us away from the 'Pilgrim,' " answered Howick.

"Sooner or later, however," said Captain Hull, "the thing must come to the surface; she is not a fish, you know."

"She is saving her breath for the sake of her speed," said one of the sailors with a grin.

But grin as he might, both he and his companions began to look serious when the fourth line had to be added to the third, and more serious still when the fifth was added to the fourth. The captain even began to mutter imprecations upon the refractory brute that was putting their patience to so severe a test.

The last line was nearly all uncoiled, and the general consternation was growing very great, when there was observed to be a slight slackening in the tension.

"Thank Heaven!" cried the captain; "the beast has tired herself out at last."

Casting his eye towards the "Pilgrim," he saw at a glance that she could not be less than five miles to leeward. It was a long distance, but when, according to his arrangement, he had hoisted the flag on the boat-hook which was to be the signal for the ship to approach, he had the satisfaction of seeing that Dick Sands and the negroes at once began bracing the yards to get as near as possible to the wind. The breeze, however, blew only in short, unsteady puffs, and it was only too evident that the "Pilgrim" would have considerable difficulty in working her way to the whale-boat, even if she succeeded at last.