A RIVAL CLAIM
“Pull hard!” cried Andy Racer.
“Pull hard yourself,” retorted his brother.
“We’ve all got to pull for all we’re worth if we want to get that whale
before someone else does,” added Bob Trent. They were all three in the
old captain’s big boat—the one in which Bob had been out clamming when
he sighted the wounded whale, and hastened to shore with the news.
“Do you think anyone else would want it?” asked Frank, as he labored at
the heavy oars. There was room for the trio of lads to handle sweeps.
“Sure, most anyone would want a whale,” replied Bob. “It’ll be worth a
lot of money to the fertilizer factory, and then there’s the oil.”
“Then there’s the whalebone,” put in Andy eagerly. “We ought to get a
lot of money for that.”
“This kind of a whale doesn’t have the sort of bone that is valuable, I
believe,” suggested Frank. “It’s only for the oil that they’re hunted.
But still, if we can get this one we ought to knock out a pretty penny.”
“If there was a lump of ambergris in it we’d all be millionaires!”
exclaimed Andy eagerly.
“Well, of course ambergris is said to be found in dead whales,” admitted
Frank, as he cast a look over his shoulder to observe their course, “but
our whale isn’t dead yet.”
“And maybe we won’t get it after all,” went on Bob. “Have you seen him
spout lately?”
“No, but then he may have sounded and it will be about fifteen minutes
before he comes up again,” announced Frank. “Was he nearly dead, Bob?”
“Pretty far gone. Some gulls were hovering over him in anticipation, I
guess, and that’s a good sign.”
“I wonder what mom will say,” came from Frank, after a pause. “We sort
of promised we wouldn’t go whaling again, Andy.”
“I don’t believe she’d care if she knew how it was, but we didn’t have
time to tell her. Besides, she doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s
golfing. Anyhow, this whale is nearly dead and there can’t be any harm
going for a dead one. It was a live one she and dad were thinking about
when they warned us.”
“I guess so,” agreed Frank. “Anyhow we’re out now and we might as well
keep on. I wonder—”
“There she blows again!” interrupted Bob excitedly, and he stopped
rowing long enough to point to a spot in the bay not far distant.
“And she’s spouting blood now!” fairly yelled Andy. “That whale is ours
as sure as guns! Have you a line aboard, Bob?”
“Yes, a long anchor rope, strong enough, I guess, for what I need. Let’s
put in a little closer. We can keep track of the whale now. Don’t lose
sight of it.”
“One of us had better keep on the watch,” proposed Andy.
“What are you trying to do—get out of rowing?” asked his brother with a
laugh.
“No, we can take turns being lookout. Only we don’t want to lose sight
of the whale.”
This was agreed to, and, as he had suggested it, Andy was allowed to
take his place in the bow and watch the progress of the immense animal.
It was a large whale, probably seventy-five feet long and big in
proportion. It was swimming slowly along, about half submerged.
“Don’t go too close,” advised the younger Racer boy, in memory of what
had once happened to him when he first met the whale. “It may remember
me and be anxious to finish up what it began.”
“Do you suppose it’s the same one?” Frank wanted to know.
“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said Bob. “There would hardly be two
whales around here so close together, and both injured. That’s your
whale sure enough. But Andy’s right, we must not get too near. It might
take a notion to charge us.”
Accordingly they sheered off, and rowed along in a course parallel with
that of the monster. They had paid little attention to where they were
heading, and it was not until an exclamation from Frank drew their
attention to it that they noticed how far away from land they were.
“We’ll have a fine long row to get back,” observed Andy.
“Yes, towing the whale, too,” added his bother.
“Maybe we’d better take a chance and make fast,” suggested Bob. “I think
I can get my anchor line over that harpoon I see sticking out, and then
we can begin towing.”
“Nixy on that!” exclaimed Andy quickly. “We don’t tackle any live
whales. We’ll wait for this one to die.”
“I wish it would hurry up about it then,” grumbled Frank. “I don’t want
to stay out here all night.”
Suddenly, as he spoke there was a flurry of water about the dying
monster of the deep.
“Look out!” yelled Andy. “It’s coming for us.”
“Back water!” shouted Bob.
They bent to the oars with a will, Andy taking up his discarded ones.
But they need not have been alarmed. It was the last move the whale was
destined to make. Rearing itself partly up out of the water the monster
suddenly sank, making such a commotion that the boat of the boys was
tossed about like a chip in the surf.
“He’s sounded again!” shouted Andy.
“No, that’s the end,” said Bob, who had heard his father tell of whaling
voyages. “The whale is dead, and he’s gone to the bottom.”
“Then we can’t get it,” came regretfully from Andy.
“Oh, yes we can,” declared Bob.
“How?” Frank wanted to know.
“Why, after a whale dies, and sinks, gases very soon begin to form
inside it. This swells it up like a balloon, and it comes to the top
again. Then we can get it.”
“How long will it take?” asked Andy, with an anxious look at the sun,
for it was getting late.
“Oh, maybe an hour, perhaps longer,” replied Bob. “We will just have to
hang around here until it comes up.”
“I hope our folks don’t get worried about us,” remarked Frank, who was a
little uneasy about having gone off as they had so suddenly. “We left
Paul at the clubhouse all alone, too.”
“Oh, well, he won’t mind. There’s lots going on, and we’ll soon be
back—if we have luck,” commented Andy.
“Queer about that Paul,” spoke Bob. “You haven’t seen anything more of
that strange man; have you?”
“No, and I’m afraid we won’t, either,” declared the elder Racer boy. “It
seems to be a mystery we’ll never solve. If we could only find that
missing motor boat it might help some. But I guess that’s sunk, though
it was floating when we took Paul aboard our craft.”
The boys rowed slowly about the spot where the whale had gone down,
casting eager glances from time to time at the rolling billows. They
were careful to keep far enough away so that the rising monster would
not come up beneath them, and capsize the boat.
It was a little short of an hour when Frank, who had stood up to stretch
his cramped legs, suddenly uttered an exclamation:
“Look!” he cried, and pointed dead ahead.
Something rose from the sea, rolled over several times, and then swayed
gently with the motion of the waves.
“Our whale!” cried Andy.
“Dead as a door nail!” added Frank.
“Don’t be too sure,” cautioned Bob. “Wait a minute.”
They waited, but there was no motion to the monster save that caused by
the heaving ocean, and they ventured closer.
“Gee whizz! He’s big all right!” exclaimed Andy.
“That’s right,” agreed Bob. “Now let’s make this line fast to the
harpoon handle, and we’ll tow him ashore.”
“Why, there are two harpoons in him!” cried Frank, as a second shaft was
visible.
“There was only one when he tackled us,” declared Andy. “Someone else
must have had a try at killing him since he smashed my boat.”
The other lads agreed that this was very probable, but there was no time
to speculate on it. The anchor line was quickly made fast, and being
attached to the stern of the boat the work of towing the whale to the
beach was begun.
It was hard work, and it might seem that three boys could not accomplish
it. But it is well known that once a large and heavy body is started in
motion in water, a slight force will keep it going. It was so in this
case.
At first the three lads tugged and strained on the oars to little
advantage. The whale did not move. But finally persistance told, and the
inert body began to slide through the waves. After that it was but a
matter of keeping at it.
“Oh, we’ll get home before dark I guess,” remarked Andy, when they had
rowed in silence for half an hour.
“If we don’t we’ll be in for it when we do arrive,” prophesied Frank
half dubiously. “Let’s see if we can’t get up a little more steam.”
They quickened their strokes, and soon the coast line came into view,
having been hidden by mist. Then they headed for the stretch of sand of
their home town.
“Where shall we land it?” asked Frank, nodding at the whale, floating
astern.
“Oh, a little way up from the big pier will be a good place, I guess,”
decided Bob. “It’s deep water close in to shore there, and we’ll have to
get the body stranded where the tide won’t carry it off. Besides, if we
sell it to the fertilizer factory that’s the best place for them to come
after it.”
To this the Racer boys agreed, and by hard work they managed to reach
the beach before dark, towing the whale in as close to shore as
possible.
Their arrival was soon noticed by the people of Harbor View and as word
of what they had captured spread, a large throng soon gathered on the
beach.
“A whale! Good land, what will them Racer boys do next?” one woman
wanted to know. No one took the trouble to answer her.
“It’s a fair-sized one, too,” observed old Captain Obed Harkness. “I
mind the time I was up in the Arctic after them critters. We didn’t
often git ’em bigger’n that.”
“What you fellows going to do with it?” asked Harry Dunn, who sometimes
went clamming with Bob. “Gee, I wish I’d been along.”
“We’re going to sell it to the fertilizer factory,” said Andy. Then he
added to his brother, in a low voice: “Hadn’t we better telephone to
mother that we’re here? She may get wind of this and worry.”
“Yes, I’ll call her up,” volunteered Frank. “Then we’ll see if we can
talk to someone at the fertilizer factory. You stay here. I’ll be right
back.”
“Say, why don’t you put a tent over the whale, and charge admission to
see it?” asked Bert Ramsey. “You could make a lot of money. Summer
visitors from Seabright and other places would like to see a real
whale.”
“Couldn’t get a tent big enough without a lot of trouble,” replied Andy,
as his brother hurried away. Meanwhile the crowd on the beach became
larger, and there were new arrivals every second, as the news spread.
“There’s a big motor boat coming in here,” suddenly remarked Bob to
Andy, as they stood near the head of the whale.
The Racer lad glanced across the darkening sea. He had a momentary idea
that it might be the craft from which he and his brother had rescued
Paul Gale. But a glance showed him that it was a fishing vessel, that
had been fitted up with a “kicker” or small gasolene engine, the noise
of which came across the bay as the craft was headed toward the spot
where the whale was stranded.
“Wonder what they want?” mused Andy.
“Out of gasolene, perhaps, and need a supply,” suggested Bob. Few paid
any attention to the oncoming craft, as they were too interested in
looking at the whale. Frank came hurrying back, and said to his brother:
“It’s all right. Mother was just beginning to get worried. But I fixed
it all right, and said we had the whale, and hadn’t been in a bit of
danger.”
“What about the fertilizer factory?”
“Couldn’t get ’em on the wire. To-morrow will do for that. Now let’s get
home. The whale will be safe here, I guess.”
“Let’s see that the line is good and tight,” suggested Bob, for the
ketch anchor cable had been carried up on shore and made fast to an old
bulkhead.
The three boys were just making their way through the crowd when the
oncoming motor boat came to a stop as near the shore as was possible to
run in. Two men, in long rubber boots, leaped overboard and waded
through the shallow water.
“Here it is, Bill!” called the foremost.
“So you were right about it, Jack. Those lads in the small boat did have
it.”
The two burly fishermen elbowed their way through the throng, shoving
people to right and left as they approached the whale.
“Come now!” exclaimed the one called Jack. “Get away from our whale!
We’re going to tow it out again.”
“Your whale!” cried Frank, who, hearing the words, quickly turned back
with his brother and Bob.
“Yes, our whale!” cried Bill. “We harpooned it the other day, and we’ve
been hunting for it ever since. We thought we saw a motor boat towing it
away to-day, and chased after it just about the time Jack spied you lads
in the rowboat hauling something. Jack wanted to take after you, but the
rest of us thought the motor boat had our prize, so we lost time until
we found it was only a wrecked boat that they were towing. Then we came
after you. I wish we’d caught you before you hauled this up on shore, as
we’re going to have trouble getting our whale off again.”
“What makes you say that’s _your_ whale?” demanded Andy hotly.
“Because it is,” answered Jack. “We struck it, though it didn’t die
right away. Now you folks keep back, and we’ll haul it off. Come on,
fellows!” he called to the others in the motor boat. “Lend a hand here,
it’s bigger than I thought.”
“That’s not your whale, and you can’t have it!” cried Frank
determinedly. “We picked it up at sea, and towed it in. My brother and I
saw it several days ago, and it struck one of our boats. It’s our whale,
and we intend to keep it.”
“Get out of the way!” roughly cried the man called Bill. “We haven’t
time to bother with you,” and he elbowed Frank to one side.