174 THE WHALE HUNTERS 



them seals with large pathetic eyes seemed completely to 

 ignore the grey catcher ploughing the smooth green sea 

 into white foam. 



*There she blo-o-o-ows !' The cry from aloft sent every 

 man running to his station. 'Two points on the port 

 beam!' 



Carl took the wheel and put the catcher's bow on the 

 bearing. Then through the wheelhouse window he saw 

 a single whale spouting a mile ahead. 



'Take over, Berndt,' he said to the mate and ran along 

 the catwalk that bridged the space between the wheel- 

 house and the gun platform. Below him as he ran men 

 were manning the whaleline winches on the foredeck. 



The gun was always kept loaded when hunting was in 

 progress and the head of the harpoon projected from the 

 nozzle. Hanging from it and coiled down on the fore part 

 of the platform was the sixty fathom of light nylon rope 

 that connected the harpoon with its thick manilla whale 

 line hidden below. 



Carl gripped the slender butt of the gun in one hand 

 and kept the other free for signalling orders to the mate 

 in the wheelhouse behind him. 



The whale which he could now see was a big blue, 

 rolled its back, showed its fin and sounded a few hundred 

 yards ahead. 



'Stop engine!' The catcher glided to the spot where 

 the whirlpools still showed. 



Everything was suddenly very still. Everyone waited 

 tense and ready ; Carl at the gun, Berndt at the wheel and 

 the engineers below with their eyes on the telegraphs. 

 Five minutes, ten, then 



'There she is blowing to port! Full ahead! Hard 

 over! 



Again the fifteen-knot chase was on but again the whale 

 sounded before Carl could get near enough to shoot. 



Four more times the catcher drove the whale under, 



