THE YANKEE WHALER II7 



settle down after a windward chase or two. Jameson, the 

 harpooner I chose, is no giant but I must say he harpooned 

 those blackfish as well as the best.' 



'I think we all need a fat school o' parmaceti to set us 

 on our mettle, Oakley. In my grandfather's day we'ld 

 have seen plenty in the Atlantic but that day has gone.' 

 His heavy brows lowered in a frown. 'You know, if we 

 go on killing right whales and sperm whales at the rate 

 we do there'll be precious few left for our grandsons unless 

 they build boats fast enough to catch the "razorbacks." ' 

 He gazed at the inverted compass set in the cabin roof 

 and then smacked the palm of one hand with the clenched 

 fist of the other. 'But our job, Oakley, is to kill parmaceti, 

 so off with you and tell Mr. Hodge that I expect to raise 

 Tristan by breakfast.' 



Hodge, the first mate, was a man of thwarted ambition. 

 In his younger days he had risen steadily enough through 

 the whaling ranks by reason of his courage and abiUty 

 in the boats. Fifteen years ago when he had reached the 

 rank of first mate the last rung of the ladder, commanding 

 his own whaler, had seemed within easy reach. But 

 voyage after voyage he had found himself signed as second 

 in command. Those fifteen years of vain hoping had 

 soured his attitude towards the younger men of shorter 

 experience who had attained their own commands or were 

 well on the way to doing so ; and he had no less reason to 

 feel grieved against the shipowner class who promoted 

 them over the heads of more experienced men such as 

 himself. Indeed, there was not a task in the whole of 

 the whaling craft at which Hodge was not expert, whether 

 decapitating a whale or pin-pointing the ship's position 

 on the wide expanse of landless oceans. 



Then why had those old fogies way back on the Nan- 

 tucket wharves sent him off for another four years as only 

 second in command ? 



Hodge was asking himself this question for the 



