CHAPTER XX 



A EACE AND A RACE HORSE 



EARLY one morning the old familiar cry 

 rang from the crow's-nest — " Blo-o-o-w." 

 A lone whale, in plain view from the deck, 

 was sporting lazily on the surface about a mile 

 and a half off our starboard bow. The three 

 boats were hurriedly lowered and the crews 

 scrambled in. We took to the oars, for not a 

 breath of air was stirring and the sea was as 

 smooth as polished silver. Away went the boats 

 together, as if from a starting line at the crack 

 of a pistol, with the whale as the goal and prize 

 of the race. 



Mr. Winchester had often boasted of the su- 

 periority of his crew. Mr. Landers had not 

 seemed interested in the question, but Gabriel 

 resented the assumption. " Just wait," he used 

 to say to us confidentially. "We'll show him 



(^hich is de bes' crew. Our time'll come," The 



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