We gathered way again, and when we had got near enough, Captain Nelson ordered Mr. Baker and Mr. Brown to lower. The order he gave, however, reduced Mr. Baker to a stupefied silence.
“I don’t want you should hurt the whales,” he said quietly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a whaler not to want to hurt whales. “Drive off those sharks, and kill them if you can. I ’m going to try to keep those spouts in sight,” he went on, probably thinking that some explanation was necessary, or his mates might think he was losing his mind. “I ’m going to keep those spouts in sight, and see if they don’t lead us to something worth while.” And he turned away, muttering that it should be hereabouts if it was anywhere.
We lowered, and pulled hard for the scene of combat. It was full time, for the cow was bitten and torn in many places, and could not have kept up the fight much longer. The larger whale—a bull, I thought—seemed about ready to give it up, and take himself off. There were six of the big sharks, but one of them was so badly hurt by one of the whales that he could barely drag himself off, and all of them had been marked. The insensibility of sharks to pain or injury is an extraordinary thing. This one had been cut nearly in two, but he had kept up the fight, his viscera trailing behind him in a long festoon, until one of the others had relieved him of them. The other sharks did not molest him further, being too intent on getting the more delicate morsel, which we could see by the side of its mother. Nearly the whole of one side of its flukes had been bitten off, and it was somewhat torn in several places, although not seriously injured.
We put the sharks to flight, killing three, after one of them, in his thrashings, had got his tail into the boat, and wiped me across the cheek. It was like a wipe with a rasp, or coarse sandpaper, and took the outer skin completely off my right cheek. It was a long time in healing, and I had to be at my duties for nearly a month, with half my head tied up as if I had the toothache.
The whales were going, swimming slowly, probably because of the injuries to the cow, and to the reduced speed of the calf, owing to the loss of one fluke. The bull was at some distance, but he seemed to regulate his speed by that of the cow. We got back to the ship, one side of my face a mass of blood, and blood which had dripped into my shirt. I must have been a frightful-looking object. Such a hurt makes a great show, and always looks much worse than it is. I do not remember that I felt anything more than the inconvenience of it, and of having my head tied up for so long. Nobody thought it necessary to put anything on it—iodine or alcohol, or anything of the kind. I drew a bucket of sea-water, and washed most of the blood off, but that was all.
We stood off at once after the whales. Fortunately, they did not swim directly to windward, and the ship was able to make the course, and to keep up with them. They seemed to be making for some definite place, and at nightfall we were not far behind them. Even Mr. Baker appeared to think that the old man knew what he was about. We reduced sail for the night, although it could have been no better than a guess on Captain Nelson’s part how far he should reduce speed. With the first gleam of light—a little before six o’clock, or four bells, for we were not many degrees south of the equator—our best men were sent to the mastheads. Our best lookout was the Admiral, a Kanaka. There were no spouts to be seen. We had lost the whales. Sail was crowded on, and the Clearchus was soon making good speed under the steady trades, which had grown much stronger since the day before.
We held on the course on which we had been sailing for nearly three hours. Then the Admiral’s quavering cry came down to us, for he was the first to see it.
“Ah bl-o-o-ows!”
It was a musical cry, but given with indifference. He had seen too many spouts to become excited over two and a half; for he had detected the little spout of the calf, close alongside its mother. There was no doubt that there was our quarry, although still miles away. We kept on after them, and continued to gain slowly, for another hour, the officers keeping an eye on the spouts, which we could now see from the deck, and occasionally glancing up at the Admiral. We had had breakfast, and I was doing the same thing as the officers, from my perch on the heel of the bowsprit. Suddenly I saw the Admiral straighten up. He looked far out ahead as if he could not believe his eyes. Then he gave an excited cry.
“Bl-o-ws! Ah bl-o-ws!” It was not as musical as we were used to hear from the Admiral. “Blows! Big school! Hunnud whale! All over!” And he waved his arm to include a wide arc.