Cooper.

“Tom,” cried Barnstable, starting, “there is the blow of a whale!”

“Ay, ay, sir!” returned the cockswain with undisturbed composure: “here is his spout, not half a mile to seaward. The easterly gale has driven the creature to leeward; and he begins to find himself in shoal water. He’s been sleeping while he should have been working to windward.”

“The fellow takes it coolly, too. He’s in no hurry to get an offing.”

“I rather conclude, sir,” said the cockswain, rolling over his tobacco in his mouth very composedly, while his little sunken eyes began to twinkle with pleasure at the sight, “the gentleman has lost his reckoning, and doesn’t know which way to head to take himself back into blue water.”

“’Tis a fin-back!” exclaimed the lieutenant. “He will soon make headway, and be off.”

“No, sir, ’tis a right whale,” answered Tom; “I saw his spout. He threw up a pair of as pretty rainbows as one could wish to see. He’s a real oil-butt, that fellow!”

Barnstable laughed, and exclaimed in joyous tones,—“Give strong way, my hearties! There seems nothing better to be done; let us have a stroke of a harpoon at that impudent rascal.” The men shouted spontaneously; and the old cockswain suffered his solemn visage to relax into a small laugh, while the whale-boat sprang forward like a courser for the goal.

During the few minutes they were pulling toward their game, Long Tom arose from his crouching attitude in the stern-sheets, and transferred his huge frame to the bows of the boat, where he made such preparations to strike the whale as the occasion required. The tub, containing about half a whale line, was placed at the feet of Barnstable, who had been preparing an oar to steer with in place of the rudder which was unshipped, in order that, if necessary, the boat might be whirled round when not advancing.

Their approach was utterly unnoticed by the monster of the deep, who continued to amuse himself with throwing the water in two circular spouts high into the air; occasionally flourishing the broad flukes of his tail with graceful but terrific force until the hardy seamen were within a few hundred feet of him, when he suddenly cast his head downward, and without apparent effort, reared his immense body for many feet above the water, waving his tail violently, and producing a whizzing noise that sounded like the rushing of winds.

The cockswain stood erect, poising his harpoon, ready for the blow; but, when he beheld the creature assuming this formidable attitude, he waved his hand to his commander, who instantly signed to his men to cease rowing. In this situation the sportsman rested a few minutes; while the whale struck several blows on the water in rapid succession, the noise of which re-echoed along the cliffs like the hollow reports of so many cannon. After this wanton exhibition of his terrible strength, the monster sank again into his native element and slowly disappeared.

“Which way did he head, Tom?” cried Barnstable, the moment the whale was out of sight.

“Pretty much up and down, sir,” returned the cockswain, his eye brightening with the excitement of the sport. “He’ll soon run his nose against the bottom if he stands long on that course, and will be glad to get another snuff of pure air. Send her a few fathoms to starboard, sir, and I promise we shall not be out of his track.”

The conjecture of the experienced old seaman proved true; for in a few minutes the water broke near them, and another spout was cast into the air, when the huge animal rushed for half his length in the same direction, and fell on the sea with a turbulence and foam equal to that which is produced by the launching of a vessel for the first time into its proper element. After this evolution, the whale rolled heavily, and seemed to rest from further efforts.

His slightest movements were closely watched by Barnstable and his cockswain; and when he was in a state of comparative rest, the former gave the signal to his crew to ply their oars once more. A few long and vigorous strokes sent the boat directly up to the broadside of the whale, with its bows pointing towards one of the fins, which was at times, as the animal yielded sluggishly to the action of the waves, exposed to view. The cockswain poised his harpoon with much precision, and then darted it from him with a violence that buried the iron in the body of their foe. The instant the blow was made, Long Tom shouted with singular earnestness:—

“Starn, all!”

“Stern, all!” echoed Barnstable; when the obedient seamen, by united efforts, forced the boat in a backward direction, beyond the reach of any blow from their formidable antagonist. The alarmed animal, however, meditated no such resistance. Ignorant of his own power, and of the insignificance of his enemies, he sought refuge in flight. One moment of stupid surprise succeeded the entrance of the iron; then casting his huge tail into the air with a violence that threw the sea around him into increased commotion, he disappeared with the quickness of lightning amid a cloud of foam.

“Snub him!” shouted Barnstable. “Hold on, Tom! he rises already.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” replied the composed cockswain, seizing the line, which was running out of the boat with a velocity that rendered such a manoeuvre rather hazardous, and causing it to yield more gradually round the large loggerhead that was placed in the bows of the boat for that purpose. Presently the line stretched forward; and, rising to the surface with tremulous vibrations, it indicated the direction in which the animal might be expected to reappear. Barnstable had cast the bows of the boat towards that point before the terrified and wounded victim rose to the surface. His time was, however, no longer wasted in his sports, but as he ploughed his way along the surface he forced the waters aside with prodigious energy. The boat was dragged violently in his wake, and it cut through the billows with a terrific rapidity, that at moments appeared to bury it in the ocean.

When Long Tom beheld his victim throwing his spouts on high again, he pointed with exultation to the jetting fluid, which was streaked with the deep red of blood, and cried,—“Ay, I’ve touched the fellow’s life! It must be more than two foot of blubber that stops my iron from reaching the life of any whale that ever sculled the ocean.”

“I believe you have saved yourself the trouble of using the bayonet you have rigged for a lance,” said his commander, who entered into the sport with all the ardor of one whose youth had been chiefly passed in such pursuits. “Feel your line, Master Coffin: can we haul alongside of our enemy? I like not the course he is steering, as he tows us from the schooner.”

“’Tis the creatur’s way, sir,” said the cockswain. “You know they need the air in their nostrils when they run, the same as a man. But lay hold, boys, and let us haul up to him.”

The seamen now seized their whale-line, and slowly drew their boat to within a few feet of the tail of the fish, whose progress became sensibly less rapid as he grew weak with the loss of blood. In a few minutes he stopped running, and appeared to roll uneasily on the water, as if suffering the agony of death.

“Shall we pull in and finish him, Tom?” cried Barnstable. “A few sets from your bayonet would do it.”

The cockswain stood examining his game with cool discretion, and replied to this interrogatory,—

“No, sir! no! He’s going into his flurry; there’s no occasion for using a soldier’s weapon in taking a whale. Starn off, sir! starn off! the creatur’s in his flurry.”

The warning of the prudent cockswain was promptly obeyed; and the boat cautiously drew off to a distance, leaving to the animal a clear space while under its dying agonies. From a state of perfect rest, the terrible monster threw its tail on high as when in sport; but its blows were trebled in rapidity and violence, till all was hid from view by a pyramid of foam that was deeply dyed with blood. The roarings of the fish were like the bellowings of a herd of bulls, and it seemed as if a thousand monsters were engaged in deadly combat behind the bloody mist that obstructed the view.

Gradually these efforts subsided; and, when the discolored water again settled down to the long and regular swell of the ocean, the fish was seen exhausted, and yielding passively to its fate. As life departed, the enormous black mass rolled to one side; and when the white and glistening skin of the belly became apparent, the seamen well knew that their victory was achieved.