Of this there could be no doubt. Several at that instant appeared at various distances.
The excitement of the moment had given the required stimulus to the captain’s nerves, and he was restored to sight.
I remembered the fruitless chase off Cape Horn, when the captain and those with him so nearly lost their lives, but this promised to be successful. The captain’s boat took the lead. His aim was to get up to one of the monsters of the deep just as it returned to the surface for breathing, as it would be some time before it could go down again, and before that interval many a harpoon and lance might be plunged into its body.
The captain soon took the lead; the men pulled as if their lives depended on it. Before they were half a mile away a whale rose just ahead of the captain’s boat. Springing into the bows, he stood, harpoon in hand, ready to strike.
Presently he was close up to the monster; the weapon flew from his grasp, followed by three lances hurled in rapid succession. The whale, feeling the pain, darted off. Another boat came up, and a second harpoon was made fast, while several more lances were plunged into its side.
Presently its enormous flukes rose in the air.
“He has sounded! He has sounded!” cried those on board.
The whale had dived, and the lines coiled away in the tubs ran rapidly out. The monster, however, had not finished its breathing, and soon after a second line had been secured to the first it came again to the surface. The boats pulled rapidly towards it, and the harpooners plied it with their lances. Presently we saw them pull away as if for their lives. The whale rose nearly out of the water, and began turning round and lashing the surface with its flukes, each blow being sufficient to destroy any boat and her crew within its reach.
“The monster is in its flurry,” I heard the doctor say. “It is ours to a certainty.”
He was right. After lashing the water into a mass of blood-tinged foam, it lay perfectly still.