The Boy With the U. S. Fisheries | Page 5

from tangles.
Colin noticed that the three places where the whale had spouted formed
a slight arc and that Hank was directing the boat along a projection of
this curve, so he was quite ready when a command came to stop rowing.
Then, at the whaler's orders, the boat was swung round and the men
held their oars ready to back-water.
The place could not have been picked out with greater accuracy if the
whaler had known the exact spot where the big cetacean was going to
appear. Within thirty feet of the boat the water began to swirl and boil.
"He's right there!" said Colin with a thrill of expectation not wholly
devoid of fear.
In obedience to a wave of the old whaler's hand, the boat went astern
slowly and fifteen seconds later the great back appeared near the
surface and the monster 'blew,' his pent-up breath escaping suddenly
when he was still a foot below the surface, and driving up a column of
mixed water and air, the roar sounding like steam from a pipe of large
size.
"Stand by the line, Scotty!" shouted Hank, as he raised the clumsy
harpoon-gun to his shoulder.
The sailor who had been standing near the barrel nodded, as he drew
his sheath-knife from its sheath, holding it between his teeth, ready to
cut the line should a tangle occur, but keeping his hands free to attend

to the coils of rope. To Colin the seconds were as years while the old
whaler held the gun raised and did not fire. It seemed to the boy as if he
were never going to pull the trigger, but the old gunner knew the exact
moment, and just as the whale was about to 'sound' the back heaved up
slightly, revealing the absence of a dorsal fin, and thus determining that
it was a devil-whale in truth; at that instant Hank fired.
With the sudden pang of the harpoon the whale gave an upward leap
for a dive and plunged, throwing the flukes of the tail and almost a
third of his body out of water, and sounded to the bottom, taking down
line at a tremendous speed. The line ran clear, Scotty watching every
coil, and though the heavy rope was soaking wet, it began to smoke
with the friction as it ran over the bow.
[Illustration: WHALE HARPOON GUN LOADED AND BEING
TURNED SO AS TO POINT AT THE WHALE.
Photograph by permission of Mr. Roy C. Andrews.]
[Illustration: FINBACK WHALE BEING STRUCK WITH THE
HARPOON; THE INSTANT OF DISCHARGE.
A remarkable photograph, scores of plates having been used in the
effort to catch the exact moment. Note the wadding in the air, the
smoke, the head of the harpoon, and the slick on the water as the whale
sounded.
Photograph by permission of Mr. Roy C. Andrews.]
"Fifty fathom!" cried Scotty, as the line flew out.
"Sixty!" he called a moment later, and then, immediately after,
"Seventy--and holding!"
As the pressure of the brake on the line tightened, the boat began to tear
through the water, still requiring the paying out of the rope. For an
instant it slackened and the winch reeled in a little line. There was a

sudden jerk and then the line fell slack. Working like demons, the men
made the winch handles fairly fly as the line came in, and within
another minute the whale spouted, blowing strongly and sounding
again. He sulked at the bottom for over twenty minutes, coming up
suddenly quite near the boat. Scotty had lost no time, and not more than
thirty-five fathom of line was out when the monster rose.
"He's a big un, Hank!" called Scotty. "Want the other line?"
"Got it!" was the brief reply, and Colin saw that the harpoon-gun had
been reloaded.
"Sounding again!" called Scotty as the rope fell slack.
"No!" yelled Hank. "Stand by, all!"
Then suddenly:
"Back oars! Back, you lubbers! Hard as you know how!"
The oars bent like yew-staves.
"Back starboard! Hard!"
With the blood rushing to his brain, Colin, who was on the starboard
side of the boat, threw his whole energy into the back stroke, and the
boat spun round like a top into what seemed to be the seething center of
a submarine volcano, for, with a roar that made the timbers of the boat
vibrate, the gray whale spouted not six feet from where the boy was
sitting. Dimly he saw the harpoon hurtle through the spray and the
sharp crack of the explosion sounded in his ear.
Catching his breath chokingly, Colin was only conscious of the fact
that he was expected to pull and he leapt into the stroke as the six oars
shot the boat ahead.
Not soon enough, though! For, as the boat plunged