

Dec. 21, 1907.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
971 
ee eae eee EIEEEEIENIEIEEEESEEREEE ERE! 
Soon we see him and we take the paddles, 
and the mate’s boat takes the lead by about 
| two hundred fathoms, and we -watch them 
creep up on the monster with breathless in- 
terest. Closer and closer they get, and the 
whale is swimming along the surface and blow- 
| ing very leisurely, when they get close enough 
to heave, when the whale becomes suddenly 
| aware of a subtle enemy, and he heaves his 
flukes high in the air, and aiming for the boat, 
| brings them down with such a crash that the 
flying water almost swamps the boat, for his 
mighty effort at self-defense is a miss, yet he 
does not sound, and seems bent on waging a 
_war, and he is getting his muscles ready for 
another spring, when the boat luffs up and in 
go the two irons, and then they lay off as 
quick as the boat can turn, but not too quickly, 
| for he stands on his head and lashes the sea in 
| all directions, feeling for his antagonist, and 
then kicks one of the irons out. They give him 
plenty of line to execute his gambols in and 
take in their sail. This was the most terrific 
exhibition of force and frenzy that could ever 
be imagined. 
We sailed up under the lee of the mate’s boat 
for orders. : 
‘Don’t go off for any more whales. He’s 
kicked out one iron, and he’ll get away. Come 
up and strike him,’ the mate roared out. 
SAliene hts 
The whale quiets down somewhat and starts 
to course around on a short line. We take in 
our sail and ship the oars, for there is no need 
of stealth now, and it means an open battle. 
Suddenly the whale stops short and starts to 
thrash the water again with renewed fury. 
The big mate waves his hat and halloos fran- 
tically, and we know what it means. It means 
that the other iron may come loose and that 
we must strike as quickly as possible to save 
tec © mae 
The whale becomes quiet again and starts 
in our direction. 
“Take your oars,” orders our quiet, cool 
second mate. “Get your irons ready,” he says 
to me. I see that the line is clear for the last 
time and that the irons are lying properly in 
the crutch, with No. 1 next to my hand. I 
brace my right foot against the thwart abaft 
me, and place my left knee in the clumsy cleat, 
and picking up my first iron, I give it a pre- 
paratory poise and put all of my muscles in 
tension, from the palm of my right hand that 
was to propel the shaft, to my right foot that 
was to give force to the action of the whole 
body. Before I could realize it, the whale, in 
his wild career, came within four fathoms of 
my end of the boat. I got the order to “Let 
him have it.” My iron was poised and my 
eye was already on a spot-to place it, and gath- 
ering myself up, I let fly, and picking up the 
second iron, sent it after the first. As I took 
the clumsy cleat I knew that I was the cyno- 
sure of all eyes, for every one on the ship was 
anxious to see what the new boat steerer 
could do. That I had enemies and ill wishers 
I knew, but I did not disappoint my friends, 
and my old chief, the mate, who was in the 
other boat, told me that I “hove as straight 
as an arrow.” All that I was conscious of at 
the moment was a mighty effort to do my best, 
and then of a torrent of feathery foam, as the 
whale, under the renewed sting, churned and 
lashed the water again. I sprang aft to the 
steering oar, and the second mate took his 
lance. 
“Pull ahead! Pull ahead!” comes the chorus 
of the crew, and I lay the boat just to clear 

HOME AGAIN. 
the flukes. “Easy!” He darts the long lance 
and hauls it out of the wound. The whale 
shakes his hump. “Back stern!” he calls out. 
“Back stern!” I sing out to the men. “Back 
stern!” they all respond, backing with all their 
might. There is a streak of crimson in the 
next spout, and we all cheer. That’s what we 
like to see! 
The mate sings out for us to drop astern and 
let him pull up and attack him as soon as he 
grows quiet again. Soon he starts off on a 
run to windward and he pulls ahead of us, and 
pulling right up to his side, plumps him in 
the depths of the vitals until he breaks his 
lance. “Give us a chance, now,” roars our 
second mate. “Haul in on the line.” “Haul in 
’ 
on the line,” is the ready response, while the 
other boat sheers off and drops astern, and 
thus we alternate, the whale swimming 
rapidly in a wide circle, spouting blood, great 
thick clots of it striking our faces as it flies 
over the boat, mixed with spray, and at the 
end of a half an hour, he began to churn the 
sea in the agony of the flurry. He is a big 
bull, and he gave us a hard fight. 
Aug. 28—So ended the voyage, for Gay 
Head, that famous promontory of the New 
England coast, is coming into sight. And the 
voyage, however disagreeable in other re- 
spects, could not end more auspiciously, for 
height of good feeling prevails aboard and 
the sea is almost without a ripple to disturb 
the quietness of things. It is after 6 o’clock 
now, and the coming darkness will reveal the 
lighthouses and make the land seem nearer. 
I like to approach a coast in the night, for it 
leaves so much for the imagination, and it 
makes you anticipate. 
The men are standing around in groups, 
overhauling the prospects of getting ashore 
soon and telling of what they are going to do. 
The general idea seems to point toward a 
good “feed” of “shore grub,” and then indulge 
in their own ways of the enjoyment of material 
things. Their hopes are unbalanced, for. life 
cannot be any different in its quality of animal 
monotony to them. The spectacle makes me 
strive all the harder to realize that the chief 
pleasures are those of a spiritual nature. When 
we conquer ourselves the effort is the reward. 
the 
—_—_—— 
The voyage has been very uneventful since 
my entry of the roth, except that we have been 
scrubbing grease to beat the band and wishing 
that no more whales would show up, for our 
catch was pretty fair and we had been out 
jong enough. But the captain was persistent 
ang kept cruising about in spite of the curses 
of the men forward, who averred that he 
wouldn’t be a gentleman until he turned home- 
ward. He had betrayed a weakness in that 
direction himself, which made us all uneasy. 
We lowered for some spouts, and upon getting 
close found them to be whale killers. We did 
not touch them, and we knew that owing to 
their presence *he sperm whales would be 
either extremely wary or would clear out 
altogether. We raised whales twice soon after 
that, and our fears, or, rather, our hopes were 
confirmed, for we couldn’t fasten. At last, to 
our great delight the captain got disgusted and 
squared away, and here we are. 
The plan is to lay in Vineyard Haven fora 
couple of days and paint up before entering 
New Bedford. We ought to get in by morning, 
and it suits me perfectly, for I have some 
people who spend the summer there. I rather 
like the place any way. 

THE THEOLINE IN TOW OF A STEAMER, 

