CHAPTER IV
A NARROW ESCAPE
No sooner had the whale been sighted than all was bustle and hurry. Orders rang out sharply and rapidly; the men sprang to their tasks; the great yards swung and the bark was hove-to; and, in an incredibly short space of time, two boats had been lowered and were fairly racing across the waves, propelled by the five huge oars in each.
The two boys were woefully disappointed at not being allowed in the boats; but they realized that they would only be in the way, and that in the serious and dangerous attack on the whale, they had no place. From their perch on the crosstrees, however, they had a splendid view of all that was going on, and watched, fascinated, as the boats rapidly drew near the whale which was now swimming lazily along the surface of the sea. Presently, the boys saw the Portuguese boat steerer in Cap’n Pem’s boat, draw in his oar and step to the bow of the boat where, with hair tossing in the wind and naked to the waist, he stood with the heavy harpoon, or “iron,” poised and ready to strike. To the waiting boys it seemed as if the boat was about to bump into the immense, black bulk of the whale which rose, like the bottom of a capsized ship, far above the tiny boat. Closer and closer drew the little craft, the boys with bated breath watching every move and expecting each instant to see the iron dart forward and bury itself in the monster, when, without warning, the enormous flukes rose high in air, the whale disappeared in a boil of green and white foam, and with a crash that reached the boys’ ears, the mighty flukes struck the sea and hid the boat in a shower of spray.
“Sounded, by gum!” shouted Captain Edwards from the poop.
“Yah, he bane sound!” echoed the cooper. “But aye tank Mr. Potter bane get him yust da same.”
The two boats now rested motionless, waiting for the reappearance of the whale, every man with bent back ready to give way the instant their quarry “breached”; the boat steerers in the bows standing like bronze statues, and old Cap’n Pem in one boat and the second mate in the other grasping their enormous steering oars and peering intently ahead. Even before the boys saw the faint column of vapor that marked the rising whale, they saw the mate’s boat leap forward, and as the bulk of the creature’s body broke through the water, the iron flashed forward and buried itself in the whale’s side.
“Fast!” yelled the captain.
Instantly, the boat steerer sprang back, Cap’n Pem dropped his oar and scrambled nimbly forward, the boat steerer seized the oar and took the mate’s place and old Cap’n Pem crouched in the bow.
Then commenced such an exciting scene as the boys had never dreamed of. Hardly had the two men changed places in the boat when the whale threw himself bodily from the sea, a veritable giant of a creature, snapping his enormous jaws together as he did so, and the next second he was off like an express train, while behind him, the frail boat tore through the sea in a cloud of foam as it was hurtled by the terrified mountain of flesh to which it was fast. Straight away the huge creature sped, until the boat was a mere speck upon the horizon.
“Keep ’em in sight, lads! Keep ’em in sight!” yelled Captain Edwards, and leaping to the shrouds, he climbed quickly aloft and stood beside them on the crosstrees.
“Sounded again!” he exclaimed presently, and then, “headin’ this way!” Rapidly now the boat increased in size with the threshing flukes of the cetacean now and then visible, and headed apparently directly for the Hector.
As he approached the other whaleboat, the men bent to their oars, the craft leaped towards the stricken whale and as he rushed by, within a score of feet another iron was hurled and with both boats fast the whale sped on. But the second iron from Mr. Kemp’s boat had turned him in his mad course and he tore past the stern of the Hector within fifty feet—so close, in fact, that the boys could see the expressions on the men’s faces, could see the gear within the boats and caught the sound of Cap’n Pem’s shout as the gallant old whaleman waved a hand and yelled up to them.
“Derned near rammed us!” exclaimed the skipper. “Would have if Kemp hadn’t struck and turned him!”
Scarcely had he spoken when, so suddenly that the two boats overran the spot where he had been an instant before, the whale sounded and as the line rushed out through the bow-chock until it smoked, the tub-oarsmen doused it with water and Cap’n Pem and the second mate seized the ever-ready hatchets and held them poised to cut the lines in case of need. Everything now was taking place close to the ship and the watchers on the crosstrees seemed to look directly down into the two boats. Fathom after fathom of the line whirred over the boat’s bows as the whale dived straight for the ocean bottom and it seemed as if the whole three hundred fathoms in each boat would be exhausted ere the creature ceased sounding.
Then, to the watchers’ ears, came Cap’n Pem’s shout of “haul line!” and rapidly as hands could work, the dripping hemp was drawn in and coiled in its tub, and the boys, realizing the whale was coming up, watched breathlessly for his appearance. Suddenly he breached so close to the ship that, as he spouted, the spray drifted across the bark’s decks and the vessel rolled to the wave he created as he reared his gigantic head far above the sea and brought it crashing down. Then for a space, he lay quiet, and silently and cautiously the mate’s boat drew closer and closer to the monster and the boys held their breath as they saw Cap’n Pem grasp the long, keen lance and they realized that the old whaleman, disdaining new-fangled methods, planned to kill the whale by the old-fashioned lance which must actually be shoved into the animal’s side.
“Dern him!” whispered the captain. “Why don’t the old fool use the bomb lance? Does he want to be stove?”
Now the frail boat was within a few feet of the wounded whale. Cap’n Pem straightened up, grasped the lance firmly, braced himself, leaned slightly forward and, with a sudden lurch and a grunt which was audible to those on the bark, he drove the long-bladed lance deep into the creature’s side. Instantly, with a sweep of the oars, the boat darted back, and not a second too soon. Lashing the waves into a churning, boiling, seething mass of froth and foam, spouting blood which reddened the sea, lifting his great flukes and smashing them down in thunderous crashes, rearing his stupendous head and dropping it like a falling house, snapping, biting, sweeping to right and left with his immense jaw with its row of gleaming teeth, the whale went into his death flurry. Dodging the sweeps of his flukes, escaping by a hair’s breadth the terrible jaws, tossed about like chips on the crimson waves raised by the writhing titan beside them, the boats’ crews strove like madmen to preserve their lives and boats, while the skipper shouted and screamed from the crosstrees. The boys’ hearts beat like trip-hammers and the men on deck yelled in excitement. Then, with a final, convulsive shudder, the gigantic creature rolled over and lay still. From the boat came the glad, triumphant cry of “Fin out!” the whale was dead. Grabbing his old cap from his head, Cap’n Pem looked up and waved it towards the captain and the boys in the crosstrees, his features flushed with excitement and victory, a broad grin on his face.
“Reckon I ain’t fergot how ter kill a whale, eh, boys!” he shouted. “Ain’t had so much sport fer twenty year!”
The excitement was now over, and climbing down from their lofty perch, the boys went to the bark’s starboard rail and watched the process of getting the dead whale alongside. Quickly and deftly the two boats’ crews worked, getting a chain around the dead whale’s flukes, while, aboard the bark, spades and blubber hooks, hoisting tackle, cutting tackle and the other appliances for cutting in the whale were being made ready. The carpenter and his assistants were busy rigging the cutting stage to be slung under the ship’s gangway. The huge kettles for boiling the blubber were brought out, shavings and wood were placed in the try works ready for firing, and by the time the carcass of the whale was alongside, everything was in readiness for cutting in the blubber. Leaping onto the whale, one of the boat steerers quickly cut a hole in the blubber between the whale’s eye and his fin and in this, inserted a huge, iron hook attached to a tackle which led up to the mast. Then, standing upon the cutting stage, the men, armed with their long-handled spades, prepared to start the work. At this moment, the deaf mute, who had been sent aloft to clear the tackle, came down the shrouds with a rush, and unceremoniously yanking the busy Swanson from his work, whirled him about and began gesticulating wildly.
“Hi there!” yelled Cap’n Pem. “Get that dumb fool outer here. What’s he a thinkin’ on?”
“Yaas, sir,” replied the big Swede. “He say dere bane whale yust off der quvarter.”
“He does!” exclaimed the mate. “Run aloft, Mr. Kemp, an’ see if he knows what he’s a-talkin’ erbout.”
Reaching the crosstrees, the second officer glanced rapidly around and the next instant his startled shout caused every one to drop work and tools and scramble to the decks.
“Whale!” screamed Mr. Kemp. “It’s a German sub!”
With anxious faces the crew scrambled up the rigging, striving to get a glimpse of the U-boat while the boys and Cap’n Pem rushed to the after deck where Captain Edwards already stood, searching the sea with his glasses.
For a space the boys could see nothing and then Jim’s sharp eyes caught the slender periscope of the underseas boat and the tiny trail of white behind it.
“There ’tis, Tom! Look! Just beside that big patch of weed!” he cried.
“Dern their dirty hides!” exclaimed old Pem. “Fetch me a bomb lance, boys. I’ll show ’em!”
“No!” commanded the captain, “we can do nothing. Possibly they may spare us if they see we are a whaleship and have no oil aboard. Get the other boats over, Mr. Potter. If we’re sunk we have enough boats to save all hands, thank Heaven.”
Turning, the mate bawled the orders to the crew, and, badly frightened as they were, and realizing their helplessness, the men flew about the work of getting more boats in the water. Meanwhile, the submarine had gradually emerged from the water and now floated with her deck awash, and her conning tower and superstructure well above the sea. Presently, from a hatchway, a uniformed figure appeared, stared at the Hector through his glasses for a space and raised a megaphone to his lips. Then, thin but clear across the intervening sea, the anxious watchers on the bark heard the fateful words, “Take to your poats! We’re apout to sink dot shib!”
Panic-stricken, the crew rushed to the waiting whaleboats and commenced to pile into them, the Portuguese and negroes leading, and all fighting and striking in a mad attempt to be first to reach a place of safety, for, while fearless in attacking the giants of the seas and cheerfully facing death a dozen times a day in the pursuit of their calling, yet these men were terrified out of all reason at the thought of being blown to atoms by a torpedo. There were more than enough boats for all, but like frightened sheep, the men all dashed for one boat. Hurrying to the deck, the captain and mates strove to restore order, shouting, and threatening, but all to no avail. The men were insane with terror. And then, suddenly, a wild figure sprang among them, gray hair flying, eyes blazing, a boarding-knife in one hand, a heavy iron bar in the other.
It was the one-legged Irishman, and before his impetuous onslaught the crowd fell back.
“Wan at a toime, ye spalpeens!” he screeched. “Take it aisy now! B’gorra ye’re a foine bunch! Shure there’s enough boats an’ to sphare! Tumble into thim in order now—six in aich, mind ye, an’ Oi’ll shtick the furst thot rushes! Howly St. Pathrick, but it’s foine cowards, yez arre! Shure ’tis no sinse ye have, at all, at all!”
Presently the boats were manned, the doughty little Irishman clambered into one with the two boys and Cap’n Pem at his heels. Mr. Kemp took his place in another and Captain Edwards, last to leave the bark, leaped into the third as painters were cast loose and the men bent to their oars. Scarcely had they taken a dozen strokes from the doomed ship when there was a deafening explosion. An upleaping mountain of water enveloped the Hector, and the next moment the boats were almost swamped in a descending avalanche of water, blood, flesh and blubber.
Frightened, dazed, choking and spluttering the boys looked about. Rocking to the force of the explosion, with water pouring in cataracts from her scuppers, but apparently unhurt, the bark towered above the sea.
“Well I’ll be—,” began Cap’n Pem, but his words were cut in twain by a shout from Mr. Kemp.
“Destroyer a-comin’!” he yelled.
Instantly, all eyes were turned from the bark to where, half-hidden by the great bow-wave thrown up by her passage, and with black smoke belching from her four funnels, a lean, gray destroyer came tearing through the sea. Leaping to their feet, tossing hats in air, waving their ponderous oars, the men cheered wildly and then, realizing that the Hector was still afloat and that all danger from the submarine was over, they swung their craft about and pulled madly back to their ship. Even before they had gained the bark’s side they were tossing on the wake of the rushing destroyer, and, in rapid succession, came the heavy detonations of her depth-bombs.
Clambering over the Hector’s side, the boys and men gazed about in amazement, for the moment utterly at a loss to understand by what miracle the ship was still afloat. Then, rushing to the gangway, old Cap’n Pem gave one glance over the side and let out a lusty shout. “Well, I’ll be blowed!” he yelled. “I’ll everlastin’ly be keelhauled! Derned if that critter didn’t save the ship! They jes’ blowed the whale to smithereens!”
Every one hurried to his side and peered over. It was perfectly true. The torpedo had struck the whale, blowing it into a thousand fragments, scattering blubber, flesh and blood over decks, sails and sea, but leaving the bark uninjured. The mountain of meat and bone had saved the ship! As they stood speechless, awed into silence by the miraculous escape of the bark, no one noticed the destroyer, which had drawn near, until a hail from her bridge reached their ears.
“Bark ahoy!” shouted an officer. “Shall we stand by? Are you badly injured?”
Captain Edwards cupped his hands and was about to reply, but before he could speak old Pem sprang onto the rail, and grasping a backstay with one hand shook his fist at the spot where he had last seen the submarine. “No!” he roared. “No, by heck! We ain’t hurt none, but them sneakin’ thieves jes’ robbed us out o’ a hund’ed bar’ls o’ ’ile!”
The tension was broken, every one roared with laughter and even the destroyer’s officers shook with mirth at the old whaleman’s words.
“Did you get the sub?” shouted Captain Edwards when the merriment subsided.
“Can’t be sure,” came back the answer. “There’s so darned much whale oil on the water, there’s no way to tell. The sea’s slicked with grease for half a mile round. Want us to convoy you to Fayal?”
“Guess not,” yelled back the skipper. “Reckon you scared ’em off if you didn’t get ’em. Guess we’ll risk it.”
“All right, then,” replied the other. “Better not loaf about after whales, though. Two or three subs about and you’re easy game hove-to. Good luck!”
A moment later, the destroyer was tearing towards the west, and by the time the Hector’s yards were squared and she was once more on her course, a mere smudge on the horizon was all that marked the little craft which had arrived on the scene in the nick of time.