“They can lie there till they die before any one of them shall put a
pipe in his mouth.”
“Just as you please, captain,” said the mate, nonchalantly. “I guess you
know best what you're doing. But there's going to be more trouble aboard
this ship if you don't ease up a bit on those five men; and if I were
you I wouldn't go too far. One of 'em--that youngest Rodman boy--can't
stand much more of that sail locker in such weather as this. And I guess
_I_ don't want to go before a grand jury if he or any of 'em dies.”
“I tell you, Brant, that rather than ease up on those fellows, I'd lose
the ship. I'm going to keep them there till we strike another fish, and
then I'll haze what life is left in them clean out of them.”
Rough and harsh as he was with the crew of the _Shawnee_, Brant was no
vindictive tyrant, and was about to again remonstrate with the savage
Lucy, when, suddenly, the thrilling cry of “There she blows!” came from
the look-out in the crow's nest; and in a few minutes the barque's decks
were bustling with excitement. A small “pod” or school of sperm whales
were in sight. Four boats were at once lowered and started in pursuit.
When first sighted from the ship the whales were not more than two miles
distant, and moving towards her. The mate's boat was first away, and in
a very short time fastened to the leader of the “pod”--a huge bull over
sixty feet in length. In less than five seconds after the keen-edged
harpoon had plunged deep into his body, the mighty fish “sounded”
(dived) at a terrific speed; the other whales at once disappeared and
Brant's boat shot away from the other three. The remaining boats were
those of the captain and the second and third mates. For some ten or
fifteen minutes their crews lay upon their oars watching the swift
progress of the mate's boat, and scanning the sea from every point
around them, to discern where the vanished and unstricken whales would
rise to breathe again. At last they saw the great bull, to which the
mate's boat was fast, burst out upon the surface of the water, two miles
away. For a minute the mighty creature lay exposed to view, beating the
sea into a white seeth of foam as he struck the water tremendous blows
with his tail, and sought to free himself from the cruel steel in his
body. As he thrashed from side to side, two of his convoy rose suddenly
near him as if in sympathy with their wounded leader. Then, in an
instant, they all disappeared together, the stricken whale still
dragging the mate's boat after him at an incredible speed.
Knowing that in all probability the two whales which had just appeared
would accompany the great bull to the last--when he would receive
the stroke of the death-dealing lance from Brant--the captain of the
_Shawnee_ at once started off in pursuit, accompanied by the second and
third mates' boats. The crews bent to their tough ash oars with
strength and determination. There was no need for the dreadful oaths
and blasphemies with which Captain Lucy and his officers assailed their
ears, or his threats of punishment should they fail to catch up the
mate's boat and miss killing the two “loose” whales; the prospect of
such a prize was all the incentive the seamen needed. With set teeth
and panting bosoms they urged the boats along, and presently they were
encouraged by a cry from the third mate, who called out to the captain
and second mate that the wounded whale was slackening his speed, and Mr.
Brant was “hauling up alongside to give him the lance.” In another
fifty strokes the captain and the two officers saw the great head of
the creature that was dragging the mate's boat along again appear on the
surface, and on each side were his devoted cetacean companions, who were
almost of as monstrous a size as the bull himself.
With savage oaths the captain urged his crew to fresh exertions, for
just then he saw the mate go for'ard in his boat and plunge his keen
lance of shining steel into his prize, then back his boat off as the
agonised whale again sounded into the blue depths below, with his
life-blood pouring from him in a bubbling stream.