"Those men will be killed," he shouted to Mr. Landers. "Call the watch and lower those other boats, and be quick about it."
In a jiffy the boats were lowered, the crews piled in, masts were stepped, and we shot away to the rescue. But the mate's crew solved their own problem before we could come into action. When it seemed likely the walrus would swamp the boat, Long John harpooned the leader of the herd. The big walrus dived and made off, hauling the boat out of the midst of the furious brutes to safety. The other animals did not pursue. They bobbed about the scene of the conflict for some time and finally disappeared. Long John killed the big bull to which the boat was fast, cut off its head, and the boat went back to the battleground to take similar toll of the walrus that had died under the mate's rain of bullets. Eight carcasses were found afloat and as many more probably had sunk.
Ten heads with their ivory tusks were brought aboard the brig as trophies of the hunt. The tusks of the bull that had led the attack measured two feet six inches. The animal, according to Mr. Winchester, must have been ten or twelve feet long. The mate estimated its weight at 1,800 pounds—a guess, of course, but perhaps a close one.
[CHAPTER XVIII]
BLUBBER AND SONG
We were cruising in open water soon afterward with two whaling ships in sight, the Reindeer and the Helen Marr, both barkentines and carrying five boats each, when we raised a school of bowheads straight ahead and about five miles distant. There were twenty-five or thirty whales and a broad patch of sea was covered with their incessant fountains. The other ships saw them about the same time. The long-drawn, musical "Blo-o-o-w!" from their mastheads came to us across the water. Aboard the brig, the watch was called and all hands were mustered to the boats. Falls were thrown off the hooks and we stood by to lower as soon as the captain gave the word. There was equal bustle on the other ships. Traveling before a favoring breeze in the same direction as the whales, the three vessels waited until they could work closer. Each captain in the meanwhile kept a watchful eye on the others. None of them proposed to let his rivals get the start. The Reindeer was to windward of us, the Helen Marr on our lee.
When the ships had reached within a mile of the whales Captain Shorey sent our boats down. Instantly the other skippers did the same. Soon thirteen whale boats were speeding on the chase.
Fine sailing weather it was, with a fresh breeze ruffling the surface of a gently heaving sea. With all sails set and keeping well apart, the boats heeled over, their crews sitting lined up along the weather gunwales. There seemed no chance of any clash or misunderstanding. There were plenty of whales, and with any luck there would be glory enough and profit enough for all.