THE GREYHOUND OF THE SEA 



bubbles from his spout holes. It was a pitiful sight 

 as the poor brute fought gamely for life with the odds 

 all against him, and I turned away with a sigh of 

 relief when he rolled over and sank to the bottom. 



While the whale was being lifted to the surface and 

 inflated, I breakfasted with the Captain in the little 

 galley, doing justice to Billy's excellent porridge and 

 coffee. In half an hour we went to the bridge to re- 

 lieve the mate, and found the vessel headed to the 

 eastward where a number of spouts were just visible 

 far over toward the shore. With the glasses we could 

 see that they were finbacks, and the thin columns of 

 vapor shooting up every few seconds indicated that 

 the animals must be feeding. 



The success of the morning and the prospects of 

 a good day's hunting had put every man on board in 

 the best of humor. Captain Grahame paced back and 

 forth beside me, telling of his experiences while cruis- 

 ing in Australian waters and describing wild nights at 

 sea as only a deep-water sailor can, meanwhile watch- 

 ing the whales ahead. 



In half an hour we were near them, and the vessel 

 was swung toward two finbacks which were separated 

 from the rest of the school and were swimming side 

 by side. As they dived we could see that one was 

 very small, a calf ; the larger was probably its mother. 



The engines were at dead slow and the little steamer 

 slipped quietly through the water in a long circle about 

 the "slick" where the whales went down. In a low 

 voice Captain Grahame called to the Gunner, telling 

 him to shoot the big one first, and at almost the same 



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