“That will do, sir; that will do, Frewen,” said the mate; “do you want to kill each other?”
Keller had some good points about him and a certain amount of humour as well.
“Haow much air yew hurt, Frewen?” he inquired. “I can't exactly see” (both his eyes were fast closing).
“Pretty much like yourself,” replied the officer; then he paused and held out his hand. “Shake hands, sir. I'm sorry we've had this turn.”
“Wa'al, it's mighty poor business, that's a fact,” and Keller took the proffered hand, and then the matter apparently ended.
Early in the morning on the following day whales were raised. There was a stiff breeze and a choppy sea. Three boats, of which Frewen's was one, were lowered. Cheyne, although suffering great pain, insisted on taking his place, and twenty minutes later his officer called out to him to “stand up,” for they were close to the whale—a large cow, which was moving along very slowly, apparently unconscious of the boat's presence.
Then for the first time during the voyage the half-caste missed striking his fish. Unable to sustain himself steadily, owing to his injured foot and the rough sea, he darted his iron a second or two too late. It fell flat on the back of the monstrous creature, which at once sounded in alarm, and next reappeared a mile to windward. For an hour Frewen kept up the chase, and then the ship signalled for all the boats to return, for the wind and sea were increasing, and it was useless for them to attempt to overtake the whales, which were now miles to windward. Neither of the other boats had even come within striking distance of a fish, and consequently Keller was in a vile temper when they returned, and the moment he caught sight of the half-caste boatsteerer he assailed him with a volley of abuse.
The young man listened with sullen resentment dulling his dark face, then as he turned to limp for'ard the captain bade him make haste and get better, and not “try on any soldiering.”
He turned in an instant, his passion completely overmastering him: “I'm no 'soldier,' and as good a man as you, you mean old Gape Cod water-rat. I'll never lift another iron or steer a boat for you as long as I am on this ship.”
Five minutes later he was in irons with a promise of being kept on biscuit and water till he “took back all he had said” in the presence of the ship's company.