The Boy With the U. S. Fisheries | Page 4

of water was all that
remained to show where the whales had been.
"I told you what it would be!" said Gloomy, picking himself up and
speaking in an injured tone, as though he blamed everybody else for his
own carelessness.
His protests, however, were silenced by a steady stream of descriptive
epithet from Hank. The old gunner, without even raising his voice,
withered any possible reply on the part of the clumsy sailor, whose
inexpertness had caused their failure to get the whale.
"They were only humpbacks, however," added Hank, after Gloomy had

been reduced to silence. Indeed, so shamefaced was the luckless sailor,
that when he saw a spout a minute or two later he only pointed with his
finger, without saying a word.
Noticing the gesture, Colin turned and saw with amazement a tall jet of
vapor that had spouted from a whale close by. He looked at Hank
expectantly, hoping to hear him spur the crew to a new venture, but the
old whaler looked grave.
"Finback?" the boy queried.
"Gray whale, I reckon," answered the gunner.
"Devil-whale? Oh, Hank!" the boy cried, his eyes shining with
excitement. "I hope it is!"
"That shows how little you know," the other replied.
"Are you going to harpoon him?"
Hank looked at the boy, smiling slightly at his utter fearlessness.
"I wish you were aboard the ship," he said, "an' I would. But I reckon
it's wiser to keep out of trouble."
"But I don't want to be on the Gull," Colin protested; "at least not when
there's anything going on out here. And," he added craftily, "I didn't
think you were really afraid!"
"Wa'al," the old whaler said, his jaw setting firmly, "I don't want
anybody to think I'm backin' down, just because I'm in a boat again.
But I tell you straight, I don't like it. Gloomy," he continued, "an' the
rest of you, stand by your oars. That's a gray whale an' I'm goin' after
him."
"How do you know it's a California whale, Hank?" asked the boy, as
they waited for the creature to reappear.
"By the spout," was the prompt reply. "It's not as high an' thin as a

finback's, it's not large enough for the low, bushy spout of a humpback,
an' it goes straight up instead of at a forward angle so it can't be a sperm.
Must be a gray whale, can't be anythin' else."
For a few minutes the men rested on their oars, and Colin grew restless.
"Why doesn't he come up again?" he said impatiently. "First thing we
know he'll be out of sight!"
The old whaler smiled again at the lad's eagerness.
"While the gray is the fastest swimmer of all the whales," he said, "you
needn't be afraid that we'll lose sight of him. Most whales swim very
slow, not much faster than a man can walk."
"There he is," called another of the sailors, pointing to a spout three or
four hundred yards away.
"All right, boys," Hank said, "he's makin' towards the shore."
The long oars bit into the water again and Colin was glad to feel the
boat moving, for it rolled fearfully on the long heaving swell. But with
six good oars and plenty of muscle behind them, the little craft was not
long in reaching the place where the 'slick' on the water showed that the
whale had come up to breathe and then dived again. Acting under the
gunner's orders the crew rested on their oars a short distance beyond the
place where the whale had sounded. Presently, a couple of hundred
yards from the boat, on the starboard side, the whale came up to spout,
evidently having turned from the direction in which it had been slowly
traveling, and the rowers made for the new objective. This time there
was another long wait.
"How long do they stay down, Hank?" asked the boy.
"No reg'lar rule about it," the whaler answered; "sometimes for quite a
while, but I reckon ten to fifteen minutes is about the usual. Some of
'em can stay down a long while sulkin' when they've got a harpoon or
two in 'em, but I reckon three-quarters of an hour would be about the

limit."
Again the boat sped onward, this time without any order from Hank,
for all hands had seen the whale not more than fifty yards away, and
Hank grasped the shoulder harpoon-gun. But before the boat could
reach the whale and turn stern on so as to give the gunner a good
chance for a shot, the whale had 'sounded' or dived.
"Next time," said Hank quietly, and told Scotty, one of the sailors, to
clear away the first few coils of the rope in the barrel and make sure
that it was free