by Harry Bates
and he stumbled his way there,followed by the other.
It was then that a most peculiar feeling came over him, a feeling thatwas instantly a surge of panic. Something else was in the trap! Hisflash arced around and up, and what lay revealed in its ray caused coldshivers to run down the backs of the two men.
Above them, just over the three-toothed outer entrance, hung a black,sleek body, white-striped. Head-on it was, and motionless, eyeing them.A killer whale--alive!--and poised for a lunge!
It barred the way to the outer entrance. They could not retrace theirsteps; already the round brown head of a blubber-men showed in the innerentrance. They were trapped, front and rear, and confronted by thedeadliest animal in the sea.
A second they watched it, frozen immobile; then the whale's great bodycurved and its flukes went up, and by purest instinct the men dove forthe niche at their feet. Head to head, they arrived in it, and just intime, for the great jaws of the killer barely missed their snap.
As the monster curved past, the swirling water of its passage nearlydislodged the torpooners, and they made haste to jam themselves into thecrevice as tightly as they dared for the safety of their suits.
The whale whipped around in a narrow circle and returned. Its pointedteeth gleamed as it snapped shut its jaws and muzzled its hard, wickedsnout into Ken's ribs. Again it circled and streaked for the niche; and,helpless, Kenneth Torrance lay there as the beast tried to slide itshead into it. He felt more of the terrifying nuzzling of the snout. Butthe creature could not dislodge him.
"Can't bring his teeth to bear," he muttered with a certain relief."Niche isn't high enough. We're safe, I guess, for a couple of minutes.Unless the blubber-men come in and kill him like they did the one Chanfollowed last week."
* * * * *
For several minutes the sea-beast continued its frantic attempt to reachthe two humans, and then its attacks became desultory. During onerespite Ken managed to get up his flashlight and send its beam out overthe floor--and what he discovered was the essence of irony. Directlyopposite, on the floor by the wall, lay a familiar long slim shape, itsstern tipped by rudder-planes and propeller, its metal flanks gleamingin the white ray. The torpoon. And utterly useless--a heartbreakingjest--unless they could reach it.
But a slight hope grew in the men at its discovery. They had come to theright trap, after all. Probably the whale had dislodged the shell fromthe wall with fluke-blows--possibly, too, the blows had sprung its seamsand opened the engine-compartment to water....
Ken occupied himself with the problem of how to get to it. It held theironly hope. But with all his racking his brains he could think of no waybut to make a rush for it. If he could get inside, the torp, lying flaton the ground, would be reasonably safe from the killer until he couldget it running.
Through the face-shields, he met his companion's eyes. The same decisionhad come to both.
There was a tiny space of muddy floor between them. Kent doused it withlight from the flash. In the mud, with a forefinger he slowly tracedthese words one at a time, rubbing each one out to make room for thenext:
"I get torp. Kill whale with gun. Only way. I go. I senior. If fail, youtry."
He looked at the other inquiringly. Vigorously, Chanley Beddoes shookhis head.
He smoothed over the last word Ken had marked and in its place, in thesame fashion, began:
"No. Draw lots. Only fair."
Yes, it was fair, and Ken knew it. He wrote:
"How?"
The second torpooner scrabbled around with his fingers. Presently heunearthed something, and apparently satisfied showed them to Ken. Theywere two pebbles, of different sizes. Beddoes pointed to the larger. Hewrote:
"Large makes attempt."
Again Ken nodded. He marked:
"Other try keep killer's attention."
From time to time a long sleek body slid down to them and edged back andforth, striving its best to dislodge them with its blunt shout. Aftereach failure it would return to a position just over the outer entrance.At the proper moment Chanley Beddoes jumbled the pebbles in his cuppedhands and laid two fists down on the pad.
Unhesitatingly, Ken placed a finger on the left one.
Beddoes turned and opened it. It was the smaller pebble.
* * * * *
Close as was his face-shield to Beddoes', Ken could not see what hisreaction was. Ken stretched forth his hand and clumsily touched hiscompanion's shoulder.
"Good hunting!" he said; but Chan never heard that....
The marked man peered out into the trap. The killer was circling slowly.In the escape hole, the faces of three or four blubber-men were dimlyvisible. They seemed to be watching with interest.
There came a good moment when the killer paused at the three bars of itscell, its head turned in exactly the opposite direction from the twotorpooners. Beddoes seized the opportunity at once. Almost before Kenknew it, he had rolled out of the niche.
Quickly he worked to his feet and started pushing for his goal. Thewhale had not seen him. Arms and legs straining, he floundered slowlyahead. He nearly made it.
But the killer, restlessly turning, saw him--and Kenneth Torrance wincedand cried out.
The black monster struck. With horrible, beautiful grace it curved down.Its snout caught Chanley Beddoes square in the side and butted him upand around, and both disappeared in a swirl of water into the inkyshadows of the trap's ceiling.
Ken closed his eyes. He knew what was happening. He could not move. Butit came to him, as he lay there sick with horror, that he would neverhave a better chance than now, while the killer was occupied.
Recklessly he forced himself out of the niche. Up above there wascommotion, a whirlpool of churning water. The current helped him: he gotcaught in it and was swept sprawling right over to the torpoon's side.
He clutched at the port, expecting each instant the tear of monsterfangs; but he made the interior and clicked shut the port. No matter thewater that had come into the main compartment with his entrance. Hepulled the starter over, and heard the familiar drone of electricengines, safe inside their water-tight division. He felt no relief atthis. There was only the same sick horror.
He raised the torpoon a little. There was one thing to do. Perhaps itwas mad to try to destroy that killer whale in so narrow a space, but hewas going to attempt it. It would not be so bad to join Chan, if hefailed....
A terrific blow struck the stern of the torpoon and spun it arounddizzily. Ken made out the killer lifting its flukes for a second blow.Quickly he sped the torp ahead, and turned as best he could. Flashing onhis powerful bow-beam, he found the killer to his left, slightly above.Carefully he maneuvered into firing position: then coldly, with deadlyaccuracy, he centered the sights of his nitro-shell gun on the vitalspot behind the eyes. He pressed the trigger: again, and yet again. Theprojectiles hurtled out.
The monster started; its beady eyes settled on the torpoon; with a lungeit darted forward, jaws gaping wide. And as it came another shell spedtrue into the tooth-rimmed mouth.
It halted then, and doubled in the water. Shock after shock shook thetorpoon as the shells exploded in the whale. For a little while thesea-beast flurried, and once or twice the torp shivered from chancefluke-blows. But then at last came peace. The body rolled over, showingits white belly, and drifted towards the trap's ceiling....
The brown-skinned heads had disappeared from the inner entrance. KennethTorrance glanced in that direction for a last time, then looked sadlyaround.
"So long, Chan," he murmured. "So long."
The torpoon squeezed through the bars of the outer entrance and spedforth into the open sea.
* * * * *
So it was that, perhaps an hour later, the light-beams of the whalingsubmarine _Narwhal_, doggedly scouring the region where last her firsttorpooner had been heard from, fell across a slim shape of steel thatwas beating its way at full speed through the foggy murk of the Arcticsea.<
br />
Right up to the _Narwhal_ she came, swerving at the last moment andhovering outside the starboard torpoon catapult; while, aboard thesubmarine, an officer whose voice quivered with excitement rousedCaptain Henry Streight from his bunk, and the men off duty gatheredaround the inner catapult entrance-port.
Quickly the outer port swung open. And the lone torpoon slid in--slidhome.
