His words were interrupted by the appearance of a dark, ill-defined object less than fifty feet from the port bow. The object resolved itself into the tail of an enormous whale.
Giving the water a blow that sounded like the explosion of a 6-inch gun, the mammal disappeared in a smother of foam and a violent upheaval of water that caused the buoyant Bird of Freedom to surge and roll at an alarming angle.
"Jolly good thing we weren't closer to that fellow's tail," exclaimed Guy. "My word, what a smack."
"A miss is as good as a mile, Master Guy," declared Payne. "He's off this time—sounded, we call it. It'll be half an hour or more before he comes up again for a breather."
Guy did not feel so certain about it after the rapid collapse of Payne's previous attempt at prophecy. His doubts were soon confirmed, for a warning shout from Rogers announced the reappearance of the whale a couple of hundred yards astern.
"Well, of all the cool cheek!" he ejaculated. "Blest if I ever saw a whale do that before. Clap on steam, sir, he's coming for us."
The old whaler man was right, for the animal, possibly mistaking the sleigh for a mammoth after its own kind, was preparing to attack.
As quickly as possible Leslie coupled up the two aerial propellers, at the same time increasing the revolutions of the motor. With a decided jerk, the Bird of Freedom picked up speed and fled.
"Hanged if we are even holding our own," exclaimed Ranworth, who with Guy and Rogers had gone aft to keep the pursuing whale under observation.
"We're not, sir," added Rogers calmly. "Can I have a shot at him?"