290 FOLLOW THE WHALE 



rowed into the water, and when she met a wave, she went straight 

 through it, either sphcing it apart, if it was small enough, or making 

 a hole through it, if it was too large. The only comparatively dry 

 place aboard her was the nest, but even this was constantly drenched 

 with spray. The Boy clung on desperately and sucked salt water 

 from his upper lip. The little ship seemed to be possessed; she had 

 the obvious intent of a predaceous animal in sight of a meal, and yet 

 she remained an implacable machine. 



In no time at all, it seemed to the Boy, they were upon the gentle 

 white fountains. These were now about a dozen in number and 

 bunched together within an area of about an acre. The Vikna barged 

 right in among them and then suddenly swung to starboard in an- 

 swer to, and almost simultaneously with, a wave of Captain Olsen's 

 hand. Then, just as suddenly, a bell clanged in her loathsome metallic 

 vitals, her decks juddered up and down, a turmoil of creamy foam 

 boiled forwards along her ugly flanks, and her engines thumped to a 

 dead stop for the first time. An appalling silence reigned. This was 

 instantly shattered by a colossal explosion. 



The Boy, far aloft, was projected clean out of the nest and found 

 himself clinging to the steel signal cable. He had completely missed 

 the progress of events below and now, while he dangled in mid-air 

 kicking frantically for a footing on the crosstree, the engine-room 

 bell gave another clang, and the Vikna keeled right over again, only 

 to set off full speed astern. At the same moment the main-deck 

 winch came to life with a roar, and a cloud of steam rose up to en- 

 velop him. Out of this came raucous shouts, brief commands, and 

 other incomprehensible epithets in Norsk. Then the winch came 

 to a jarring stop and the Vikna made a sort of profound curtsy into 

 the sea. This brought the Boy together with the masthead. 



There followed a half hour of comparative calm while the Boy 

 regained the safety of the nest, the Vikna plowed steadily astern, and 

 the winch roared intermittently. Then the engine-room bell clanged 

 once again, the deck shuddered once more, and everything fell silent 

 for nearly five minutes. The pause was interrupted by violent oaths 

 from Captain Olsen. Next, the gun exploded again, and a snake of 

 rope curved out over the sea ahead. The captain roared, the bell 

 clanged incessantly, the winch screamed, the deck shook, the mast 

 waved madly back and forth, and mountains of salty spume rushed 



