CROSS COUNTRY WHALING 131 



With storm-reefed sails, the boats went plung- 

 ing away over the big seas, dodging sharply 

 about to avoid the ice cakes. Not more than 

 two hundred yards away on our starboard beam 

 a great whale was blowing. The mate marked 

 it and went for it like a bull dog. He steered to 

 intercept its course. It was a pretty piece of 

 maneuvering. The whale rose almost in front 

 of him and his boat went shooting upon its back. 

 Long John let fly his harpoon. Gabriel fired a 

 bomb from his shoulder gun. There was a flurry 

 of water as the whale plunged under. Back and 

 forth it slapped with its mighty flukes as it dis- 

 appeared, narrowly missing the boat. Down 

 came the boat's sail. It was bundled up in a 

 jiffy and the mast slewed aft until it stuck out 

 far behind. Out went the sweeps. The mate 

 stood in the stern wielding a long steering oar. 

 I could see the w^hale line whipping and sizzling 

 out over the bows. 



For only a moment the whale remained be- 

 neath the surface. Then it breached. Its black 

 head came shooting up from the water like a 

 titanic rocket. Up went the great body into the 



