Several more whales appeared in sight spouting in all directions, and the men were wild with excitement.
“That’s it! Go it lads!” shouted Mr Millons, as the waist-boat began to creep ahead. “Lay it on! give way! What d’ye say, boys; shall we beat ’em?”
Captain Dunning stood in the stern-sheets of the starboard boat, almost dancing with excitement as he heard these words of encouragement.
“Give way, boys!” he cried. “They can’t do it! That whale’s ours—so it is. Only bend your backs! A steady pull! Pull like steam-tugs! That’s it! Bend the oars! Double ’em up! Smash ’em in bits, do!”
Without quite going the length of the captain’s last piece of advice, the men did their work nobly. They bent their strong backs with a will, and strained their sinewy arms to the utmost. Glynn, in particular, to whom the work was new, and therefore peculiarly exciting and interesting, almost tore the rowlocks out of the boat in his efforts to urge it on, and had the oar not been made of the toughest ash, there is no doubt that he would have obeyed the captain’s orders literally and have smashed it in bits.
On they flew like racehorses. Now one boat gained an inch on the others, then it lost ground again as the crew of another put forth additional energy, and the three danced over the glassy sea as if the inanimate planks had been suddenly endued with life, and inspired with the spirit that stirred the men.
A large sperm-whale lay about a quarter of a mile ahead, rolling lazily in the trough of the sea. Towards this the starboard boat now pulled with incredible speed, leaving the other two gradually astern. A number of whales rose in various directions. They had got into the midst of a shoal, or school of them, as the whale-men term it; and as several of these were nearer the other boats than the first whale was, they diverged towards them.
“There go flukes,” cried Rokens, as the whale raised its huge tail in the air and “sounded”—in other words, dived. For a few minutes the men lay on their oars, uncertain in what direction the whale would come up again; but their doubts were speedily removed by its rising within a few yards of the boat.
“Now, Rokens,” cried the captain; “now for it; give him the iron. Give way, lads; spring, boys. Softly now, softly.”
In another instant the boat’s bow was on the whale’s head, and Rokens buried a harpoon deep in its side.