Arctic Adventures
Page 2
and the boats all ready, we wereapproaching the latitude where we might expect at any hour to fall inwith ice. We had already seen several rorquals or finners; but thosemighty monsters of the deep, the largest species of the whale, it wasconsidered unadvisable to attack, as they afford comparatively littleoil and are apt to turn upon the boats and destroy them.
"There she spouts! There she spouts!" shouted the captain from thecrow's nest, which he or one of the mates had occupied continually.
In a few minutes the boats were in the water, and the watch below cametumbling on deck, carrying their clothes with them. As I could pull agood oar, I got a seat in one of the boats. We were in chase of thetrue whale, which can easily be distinguished from the rorqual by themode of its spouting. Marking the spot where it sounded, we had hopesof getting up to it the next time it should rise to the surface.
We lay on our oars waiting anxiously for its appearance. Presently upit came half a mile off. We gave way with a will. As we approached themonster, our harpooner, Sandy, throwing in his oar, got his gun ready.He fired, and in a moment we were fast. The sea around us was brokeninto foam, and we were covered with spray as the creature dived,dragging out the line which flew over the bollard at a rate which wouldsoon have set it on fire had not water been thrown upon it. Immediatelya staff, with the Jack at the end, was raised in our boat as a signalthat we were fast, and the other two boats came pulling up to ourassistance. Two lines were drawn out, and the boat was dragged along ata rapid rate, sending the water flying over her bows. At length thepace slackened and we were able to haul in our line until the whole ofone and part of the other was again coiled away in the tubs. By thistime the other boats had reached us. First one on one side, then on theother, got close enough to fire two more harpoons into the body of themonster, besides which several lances were darted into it. Again thewhale dived, leaving the surface covered with blood and oil, but it wasonly for a short time. Now again rising, she lay almost motionless,while we pulled up and plied her with our deadly lances, trying to findout the most vital parts. Then there came a cry of "Back! back! all ofyou!"
We had barely time to escape from beneath her flukes, with which shefuriously lashed the water, until, her strength exhausted, she floated alifeless mass.
A jack was stuck into her body and we made chase after a second whalewhich had just before appeared, and after a pretty severe fight wesucceeded in killing it. We had now to tow our two prizes alongside theship, already a considerable distance off, the wind being too light toenable her to beat up to us. As only one of the whales could be broughtalongside at a time, the last we killed was taken in tow by the otherboats, while we remained with the first which we had struck.
"Come, lads," said Sandy, "we will take our fish in tow, and get as nearthe ship as we can. The weather looks a bit threatening, and the soonerwe are alongside the better."
We did as he advised, though we made but little progress. We had notgone far when another whale was seen spouting in an opposite directionto the ship. The temptation to try to kill it was too great to beresisted, and, regardless of the threatening look of the weather,casting off from our prize we made chase. The whale sounded just beforewe got up to her, but we knew she would rise to the surface again beforelong, and we lay on our oars waiting for her appearance.
"There she spouts, there she spouts!" cried Sandy, and we saw, not aquarter of a mile off, our chase.
Again we gave way. As we got close to the monster Sandy stood up withhis gun ready. He fired, following up his shot with his hand harpoon.The lines ran out at a rapid rate until the ends were reached and we hadno others to bend on.
Instead of sounding, the whale swam along the surface, dragging the boatafter her right in the wind's eye, while the foam in thick masses flewover us. The sea was getting up, and soon not only spray but the topsof the waves came washing over the gunwale. Still our only chance ofwinning the prize was to hold on, and we hoped, from the exertions thewhale was making, that its strength would soon be exhausted. I lookedastern. The ship was nowhere to be seen, nor could I distinguish theflag of the other whale. Our position was critical, and we had todepend entirely upon ourselves. At length the whale began to slackenits speed, and we began to haul in the lines. Sandy got another gunready, and had half-a-dozen lances at hand to dart into the back of themonster when we should get up to it. We were within half-a-dozenfathoms when, suddenly raising its huge flukes, down it went again,dragging out the lines.
Suddenly the man whose business it was to attend to the coil of the handharpoon gave a loud cry. Before anyone could stop him he was overboard,disappearing in an instant under the water. It was no use cutting theline, and, unless by a miracle the whale should return to the surface,his fate was sealed. Out ran the lines, but a few fathoms remained inthe tubs.
"Get the axe ready, Tom," said Sandy to the man who had taken the otherpoor fellow's place. In vain he attempted to take a turn round thebollard, to check the monster's descent; each time that he did so thebows dipped, and it seemed as if the boat must inevitably be drawn down,but as he let the line out her bows rose. Still the hope of obtainingthe whale made him hold on. We might also recover the body of ourshipmate; that he should be alive we knew was impossible. The line ranout, it was near the bitter end. I sprang to the after-part of the boatto assist in counter-balancing the pressure forward. But this did notavail, already the water was rushing over the bows. Two sharp blowswere given. The whale was loose. We might yet, however, recover thelines, as the wounds the monster had received must ultimately provemortal.
Again we took to our oars to keep the boat's head to the sea, while wewatched for the reappearance of the whale which we knew must soon riseto the surface. We had been too eagerly engaged to pay attention to theappearance of the weather. It had now, we found, become very much worsethan before. Even should we kill the whale we could not hope to tow itto the ship. With bitter disappointment we had to acknowledge that ourshipmate's life had been uselessly lost and our own labour thrown away,while we could only hope against hope that the weather would againmoderate and that we should fall in with the whale we had before killed.
We had now to consider our own safety, and to try to get back to theship. We knew that she would have beat up to the boats which had thewhale in tow. We had the wind in our favour, but to run before the fastrising seas would soon be perilous in the extreme. It must be done,however, for we had come away without food or water, and hunger andthirst made us doubly anxious to get on board.
Already the sun had set. We had been a far longer time away than we hadsupposed. Night came down upon us. The boat's compass feebly lightedby the lantern would, however, enable us to steer a proper course. Webent to our oars, but, unaccustomed to pull in so heavy a sea, I hadgreat difficulty in keeping mine moving. Every instant it seemed as ifwe must be overwhelmed by the foaming billows which rolled up astern.
Sandy had taken his place at the steering oar, and with cheering wordsurged us to continue our exertions; but all hands by this time werepretty well knocked up with what we had previously gone through.
We tugged and tugged away; now a sea roared up on one side, now on theother; now we plunged down into a deep gulf from which it seemed as ifwe should never rise. I had supposed it impossible that a boat couldlive in such tumultuous waters. Not a star could be discovered overhead, while around we could only dimly discern dark liquid masses cappedwith hissing foam. How earnestly I longed for daylight and quiet, andto be once more on the deck of our ship! I knew too how anxious mybrother would be. Though tumbled and tossed, the boat still continuedto float. Hour after hour passed by, they seemed to be days or weeks.We had been pulling I fancied all night, and expected daylight everymoment to appear, when Sandy exclaimed--
"Hurrah boys, there's the ship's light. We shall get safe on boardnow."
Although we could see the ship's light, we could not be seen from herdeck, and she might be standing away from us. Sandy anxiously
watchedthe light, then altered our course more to the eastward, whereby the seabeing brought on our beam rendered our condition even more dangerousthan before. Sandy assured us, however, that we were getting nearer;and at last, believing that we might be heard, we all shouted togetherat the top of our voices, forgetting that the rattling of the blocks anddash of the sea against the sides of the ship would have rendered ourcries inaudible. I had for long been pulling on mechanically, scarcelyknowing what I was about, when I heard Sandy again shout out, "Heavelad, heave," and looking round I saw the bowman standing up with a ropein his hand. It had been hove to him, but the end must have been slack.We had now to regain the ship which was flying from us, but could thatbe done, I asked myself.
Again Sandy cheered us up by exclaiming, "She'll heave to, lads; neverdoubt it, she'll heave to."
Of that I feared there was but