"Yes, sir; and there's the sun trying to break through the clouds yonder. I think we shall have good weather in an hour or two."
"Yes, but it will take some time for the sea to go down. Get your lances ready! Here, Blacksmith, bend the end of that line to the lance warp. We mustn't check too short, Mr. Grafton, or we'll lose all our lances."
The whale was not more than a quarter of a mile off, bearing a little abaft the beam, or nearly dead to leeward, and appeared to be too badly hurt to go down. All hands were on deck to assist in the sport, and lances were hastily prepared at various points along the starboard side of the ship.
"Hard up your helm, there!" shouted the captain. "Run down the mizzen-staysail, and shiver in the mainyard! Here, Jeff, I want you at the wheel, and mind the word, quick. See the whale now, Mr. Dunham? Yes, there he is—let her go off more yet. Well, the mainyard! Belay that—haul taut the lee-braces. Stead-y! meet her quick, Jeff—stand by your lances now." And Captain Upton ran to his place by the starboard fore-swifter, and Mr. Grafton into the fore-chains abaft him, while the second mate stood ready in the waist, and the boatsteerers, armed with similar weapons, found eligible stations still further in reserve.
The ship was now booming off under good headway, rolling heavily in the trough of the sea. "Starboard a little, Jeff—so, steady! meet her, quick, meet her. Port a little—so, steady as you go now!" said the eager and excited captain, coursing the ship so as to shave just clear of the whale, who lay "sogging" up and down in his element, and occasionally blowing, the spout having a faint and broken appearance as if forced from him by a painful effort.
As we drew near, the iron could be distinctly seen in his back, the pole hanging down by his side, and soon as he raised his flukes to thrash the sea in his agony, the other one was discovered in his "small." The last effort of a dying man had driven it home!
"Now, then, stand by, all of you," said the captain, in a suppressed voice. "We shall have a good chance, but it's awkward darting, if we don't catch the roll of the ship right. If I miss him, Mr. Grafton, don't you!"
At the moment the whale was abreast the martingale, he moved his hand to port the helm, and stand by the braces.
"Now's our time!" as the next roll of the ship brought her fore-channels nearly into the water just at the right moment, and both lances entered the whale's body at the same instant, driven to the socket.
"Hard a port! Brace up the mainyard! Bear a hand, and let her come to the wind!"