ATTACKED BY A WHALE
Rapidly the motorship shot downward to the surface of the sea, landing
on her hydroplanes. She was about half a mile from the dark object that
floated on the water, a confused mass of twisted iron, splintered wood
and flapping canvas. Jerry had not dared drop any closer to it, lest a
sudden gust of wind might carry the _Comet_ against the sharp points
and damage her.
“What do you make it out to be?” asked Ned, as they neared the wreck,
the _Comet_ being sent ahead by her water propeller.
“It isn’t the balloon, that’s sure,” declared Jerry. “That is, unless
it’s all twisted together.”
“No; I don’t believe it’s the _Manhattan_,” agreed Bob.
Ned certainly hoped that it was not, for that would mean the end of his
efforts to find Mr. Jackson alive. As they drew nearer to the floating
mass, they saw that it was the part of some sailing craft, which had
come to grief through stress of wind and wave.
“A derelict,” remarked Professor Snodgrass, as the _Comet_ came to
a stop not far from it. “A floating derelict, and a great menace to
navigation. If some steamer were to hit that in a fog, or on a dark
night, it might send her to the bottom. I wish we could go aboard.”
“Why?” asked Ned.
“Because I might get some specimens on her. Perhaps some of the
crew, before they abandoned her, might have had some strange birds,
animals or insects from the tropics, and if they were left behind, as
they probably were, they would prove to be a valuable addition to my
collection.”
“I’m afraid we can’t go on her unless we swim,” said Jerry. “We have a
small boat aboard, but the sea is a little too rough to permit its use
to-day.”
“Circle around the wreck, and see if we can discover her name,”
suggested Ned. “Perhaps there might be a dog or cat aboard, that we
could rescue.”
Slowly the _Comet_ made a course around the wreck, and far enough away
so that the wash of the sea would not ram her up against the abandoned
vessel’s sides. The boys could discover no name on the derelict.
Either it had been worn away by the action of the water, or that part
of the ship where it should have appeared was ripped off. It seemed as
if the wreck had been abandoned some time ago.
There was no sign of life aboard her, though Mr. Snodgrass was sure
he could have at least discovered some stray bugs had he been given a
chance to search, but it could not be done.
“Well, we’ll get under way again, I guess,” observed Jerry. “Perhaps
to-morrow we’ll have better luck.”
“If we don’t have _some_ luck pretty soon, we’ll have to go back, I
suppose,” remarked Ned gloomily.
“We have enough to eat for three weeks more,” put in Bob.
“Yes, trust you for that, Chunky; but how about gasolene and oil?”
“Oh, we have enough for another week, anyhow, and perhaps longer,”
declared Jerry. “We’re not going to give up the search yet, Ned. We’ll
find Mr. Jackson, and save your father’s business.”
“I hope so,” murmured the merchant’s son.
Professor Snodgrass had improved the time by getting out his net and
dragging the sea for fish specimens. He caught several varieties, but
none that he wanted. The singing flying-fish was not among those in his
net.
He was about to pull it in, when he saw a long, dark shadow moving
slowly along on the port side of the _Comet_. The professor knew the
shape at once.
“Here, boys!” he called. “See this monster shark!”
It was indeed a large specimen of the tiger of the seas, and as it
moved slowly along, its horrid eyes seeking some prey, the boys could
not repress a shudder of fear.
“If he ever got after us!” exclaimed Bob. “Ugh! Excuse me!”
“Same here,” agreed Ned.
“There’s another coming up,” observed Jerry, pointing to a shadow
farther out. “That’s bigger than the first one.”
Slowly another great form approached the _Comet_. Then the boys saw
that there were two parts to the second shadow.
“It’s a whale and her calf!” exclaimed the professor. “Boys, you are
looking at a very rare sight. Make the most of it!”
“It will be a good thing if they don’t make mince-meat of us,”
remarked Ned grimly. “I’d hate to fall overboard now.”
As he spoke, there was a sudden swirl in the water, a smother of foam,
and then a tinge of red.
“Look!” cried Bob. “The shark has attacked the whale!”
“Not the whale, but the little calf!” yelled Jerry. “Why, the shark
has bitten it almost in two pieces! We’d better get away from here, or
there’ll be a fight between those monsters and some waves that will
swamp us!”
“That’s right,” agreed the professor. “The shark has killed the whale’s
calf. Now there will be trouble. There’s nothing worse than a whale
bereft of her young. Better go up, Jerry.”
The lad ran to the pilot house to start the air-propellers. He had
hardly reached the place, however, before a cry from his companions
caused him to look back. The whale mother had fairly leaped from the
water, falling back with a tremendous splash that raised a series of
big waves which rocked the _Comet_ to and fro.
“Get up! Get up!” begged Bob and Ned, running toward Jerry. “We’ll be
swamped!”
Jerry grasped the starting lever, but, for some reason, the motor
failed to respond. He shoved it back and forth and vibrated the spark
adjuster. But the air-propellers refused to turn.
“Start the water-screw, and get as far off as we can,” advised Ned.
“You do it, and I’ll work at this lever,” called Jerry.
As he spoke, he glanced back, and his cry of horror caused his
companions to look where he pointed. Some distance off, and coming
forward with increasing speed, was the whale, headed right for the
floating motorship.
“She’s going to attack us!” cried Ned. “She thinks our craft killed her
calf, and she’s going to ram us! Look out!”
Maddened by the loss of her offspring, the gigantic whale, as Ned had
said, was about to attack the _Comet_, which was almost at the mercy of
the leviathan, now that the air-propellers refused to operate. It was a
critical moment for our heroes.