CHAPTER VIII
A RACE
Even then they were none too quick, for as they were swinging the boat to the davits the squall struck the Sea Eagle, heeling her well over, and there was a rush and roar of wind and flying spray from the yeasty seas. It was fun while it lasted. The prow of the ship was turned eastward once more, leaving the whale, but not alone.
Already the birds were gathering to their feast, and from all directions cut the dark-finned sharks to get their share. In a short time all was turmoil about the whale, fluttering wings and whirling foamy water. This was too good a target for the boys, so they decided to give the crazy cannibal crew a surprise.
“Let’s give those beggars a farewell salute, Juarez,” cried Jim.
“I’m with you,” he replied.
“What’s the distance?” inquired Jo.
“Quarter of a mile,” hazarded Tom.
“It’s nearer a half,” replied Jim.
“It don’t look it,” put in Jo.