The dog’s manners repeatedly formed a subject of conversation between Mrs. Weldon, the captain, and Dick. The young apprentice does not trust Negoro, although the man’s conduct in general gave no grounds for suspicion.
Dingo soon gained the reputation of the cleverest dog in the world.
“Perhaps Dingo can,” suggested Bolton, the helmsman, “some fine day predict which way the wind lies.”
“Ah! why not?” assented another sailor; “parrots talk, and magpies talk; why can’t a dog? I think it is easier to speak with a mouth than with a beak.”
“Of course it is,” said Howick, the boatswain; “but who knows a talking dog?”
Thus Dingo became a hero. On several occasions Captain Hull repeated the experiment with the blocks, invariably with the same result; the dog never failed.
But Cousin Benedict took no interest in that.
“You cannot suppose,” he said to Captain Hull, after various repetitions of the trick, “that dogs are the only animals endowed with intelligence. Rats, you know, always leave a sinking ship, and beavers invariably raise their dams before the approach of a flood. And insects! Are not the structures of ants the very models for the architects of a city? And cannot fleas go through a drill and fire a gun as well as the artillerymen? This Dingo is not very interesting. Perhaps one day or other it may be identified as the ‘canis alphabeticus[16]’ of New Zealand.”
Anyway, Dingo was regarded as a phenomenon. This feeling was not shared by Negoro. He studiously avoided the animal, and Dick Sand was quite convinced that the cook’s hatred of the dog became still more intense.
This portion of the Pacific is almost always deserted. It is out of the line of the American and Australian steamers.
Sometimes white petrels congregated near the schooner; and sometimes petrels with brown borders on their wings came in sight.
On the day the wind shifted, Mrs. Weldon was walking up and down on the “Pilgrim’s” stern, when her attention was attracted by a strange phenomenon. Both Dick and Jack were standing close behind her, and she cried, -
“Look, Dick, look! The sea is all red. Is a seaweed making the water so strange?”
“No,” answered Dick, “it is not a weed; it is what the sailors call whales’ food. These are innumerable myriads of minute crustacea.”
“Crustacea,” replied Mrs. Weldon, “but they must be so small that they are mere insects. Cousin Benedict no doubt will like to see them.”
She called aloud, -
“Benedict! Benedict! Come here! We have here something interesting for you.”
The amateur naturalist slowly emerged from his cabin followed by Captain Hull.
“Ah! Yes, I see!” said the captain; “whales’ food; just the opportunity for you, Mr. Benedict, to study one of the most curious of the crustacea.”
“Nonsense!” ejaculated Benedict contemptuously; “utter nonsense!”
“Why? What do you mean, Mr. Benedict?” retorted the captain.
“Are you not aware, sir, that I am an entomologist?”
Captain Hull was unable to repress a smile, and turning to Mrs. Weldon, he continued, -
“When a whale gets into the middle of them it just opens its jaws, and, in a minute, hundreds of thousands of these minute creatures are inside the fringe or whalebone around its palate.”
Then they heard a shout from one of the sailors,”A whale!”
“There’s the whale!” repeated the captain. He hurried to the bow, followed by all the passengers. Even Cousin Benedict took a share in the general interest.
There was no doubt about the matter. An unusual commotion in the water showed the presence of a whale. Captain Hull and his crew gazed at the animal.
The captain’s eye soon enabled him to observe a column of water and vapour from the nostrils. “It isn’t a real whale,” he said; “the whale’s spout is small and rises high in the air. Dick, tell me, what do you think about it?”
With a critical eye Dick Sand looked long and steadily at the spout.
“I think it is a finback, sir,” said the apprentice, “But it is a very large finback.”
“Seventy feet, at least!” rejoined the captain.
“What a big fellow!” said Jack.
“Yes,” said the boatswain; “this one, if only we can get him, will fill our empty barrels.”
“Rather rough work, you know,” said Dick, “to attack a finback!”
“You are right, Dick,” answered the captain.
“But the profit is worth the risk, captain, isn’t it?”
“You are right again, Dick,” replied Captain Hull, and as he spoke, he clambered on to the bowsprit in order to get a better view of the whale.
The crew were as eager as their captain. They scanned the movements of their prey in the distance.
“Mamma!” cried little Jack, “I want to see a whale close, quite close, you know.”
“And so you will, my boy,” replied the captain, who was standing by. He turned to his crew,
“My men! What do you think? Remember, we are all alone; we have no whalemen to help us; we must rely upon ourselves. I can throw a harpoon; what do you say?”
The crew responded with a ringing cheer,
“Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay!”
Great was the excitement, and the question of an attempt to capture the sea-monster became the theme of conversation. The captain lost no time. He knew that the pursuit of a finback was always a matter of some peril.
The weather was excellent for the enterprise. The sea was calm, and the wind was moderate. The captain said,”Now, Dick, I am going to leave you for a few hours: while I am away, I hope that it will not be necessary for you to make any movement whatever. However, you must be on the watch. It is not very likely, but it is possible that this finback may carry us out to some distance. If so, you will follow us; and in that case, I am sure you may rely upon Tom and his friends for assistance.”
The negroes assured the captain of their willingness to obey Dick’s instructions, they were ready for immediate action.
The captain went on, “The weather is beautifully fine, Dick; but you must not leave the ship. If I want you to follow us, I will hoist a flag on the boat-hook.”
“You may trust me, sir,” answered Dick.
“All right, my lad; keep a cool head and a good heart. You are second captain now, you know!”
Dick blushed, and the bright flush spoke more than words.
“I can trust the lad,” murmured the captain to himself; “he is as modest as he is courageous.”
The captain was aware of the danger to which he was exposing himself, but his fisherman’s instinct was very keen. And so he finally prepared to start.
“I wish you all success!” said Mrs. Weldon.
“Many thanks!” he replied.
“Sometimes,” said Cousin Benedict, “sometimes there are strange insects on the backs of these great mammifers.”
“You will soon see them yourself,” was the captain’s reply.
As Captain Hull descended the rope-ladder[17] and took his place in the front of the boat, Mrs. Weldon and all on board renewed their good wishes.
The captain’s voice came from the retreating boat,
“Dick, one eye on us, one on the ship!”
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the apprentice.
Dingo broke out into a piteous howl. The dog was standing erect. To the superstitious sailors, the howling was not reassuring. Even Mrs. Weldon was startled.
The animal walked slowly up to Mrs. Weldon, and began to lick her hand.
“Ah!” muttered old Tom, shaking his head solemnly, “a bad omen.”
And the dog gave a savage growl.
Negoro appeared and saw the ferocious attitude of the dog. The lady was quite unable to pacify the animal, which wanted to fly upon the throat of the cook, but Dick Sand called out loudly,
“Down, Dingo, down!”
The dog obeyed. Negoro turned very pale, and made his way cautiously back to his own quarters.
“Hercules,” said Dick, “keep your eye[18] upon that man.”
“Yes, I will,” he answered.
The whale-boat became a speck upon the water.
Captain Hull knew the difficulty of the task. He wanted to approach to the whale from the leeward. He had perfect confidence in his boatswain.
“We mustn’t show ourselves too soon,” he said. “Now, my lads, as quietly as you can.”
The sailors were avoiding the least unnecessary noise.
The boat now glided stealthily on to the greasy surface of the reddened waters. The whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it, and allowed the boat to come nearer.
Another half-hour elapsed, and the huge body of the whale was between the boat and the “Pilgrim.”
“Slowly, my men,” said the captain, in a low voice; “slowly and softly!”
The captain took the harpoon. He stood prepared to plunge his weapon into the mass that rose above the surface of the sea.
“Are you ready, my lads?” whispered he.
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied Howick, speaking as gently as his master.
“Then, alongside at once,” was the captain’s order.
In a few minutes the boat was only about ten feet from the body of the whale. The animal did not move. Was it asleep? In that case there was hope that the first stroke might be fatal. But it was no time for speculation; the moment for action arrived.
Captain Hull seized his weapon, and hurled it against the side of the finback.
“Backwater![19]” he shouted.
The sailors pushed back with all their might, and the boat in an instant was beyond the range of the creature’s tail.
“See; there’s a youngster!” exclaimed Howick.
Captain Hull knew that the whale would defend “her little one.”
The whale was diving downwards almost perpendicularly. Its calf followed it; very soon, it began to swim along under water with great rapidity.
Captain Hull and Howick had sufficient opportunity to see the whale. It was at least eighty feet from head to tail, its colour was yellowish-brown, with numerous spots of a darker shade.
The pursuit commenced. The whale-boat darted like an arrow along the surface of the waves.
But the boat could not keep pace with the whale. The whale did not moderate its speed.
“Confound it![20]” exclaimed the captain; “the animal is dragging us away from the ‘Pilgrim’. But sooner or later, however, it must come to the surface; the whale is not a fish, you know.”
He and his companions began to look serious. Then they observed a slight slackening in the tension.
“Thank Heaven!” cried the captain; “the beast is tired at last.”
He cast his eye towards the “Pilgrim”. It was a long distance, but when he hoisted the flag on the boat-hook, he saw that Dick Sand and the negroes at once began to get as near as possible to the wind.
Meantime, the whale rose to the surface of the water. It remained motionless, waiting for its calf. Captain Hull ordered his men to pull towards the whale as rapidly as they could.
“Now, my lads!” shouted the captain. “Look out! No false shots! Are you ready, Howick?”
“Quite ready, captain,” answered the boatswain.
“It looks suspicious,” said the captain; “but go on! straight ahead!”
Captain Hull was becoming more excited every moment.
The whale only turned round a little in the water. It was evidently still looking for its calf. All of a sudden it gave a jerk with its tail which carried it some few yards away.
The men were all excited. Was the beast going to escape again?
But no: the whale merely turned, and now was rapidly beating the water with its enormous fins.
“Look out, Howick, it’s coming!” shouted Captain Hull.
The boat swerved to avoid the blow. There was a sudden pause. The whale spouted up two gigantic columns of blood and water, lashed its tail, and renewed its angry attack upon the boat.
“Bale away, men!” cried the captain.
The sailors set to work, they were baling with all their might. Captain Hull cut the harpoon-line, because the whale made no further attempt to escape. It was going to fight desperately to the very end.
There was no alternative but to face the encounter. The whale caught the boat with a violent blow from its dorsal fin.
“Where’s Howick?” screamed the captain in alarm.
“Here I am, captain; all right!” replied the boatswain.
“The rudder’s smashed,” he said.
“Take another, Howick; quick!” cried the captain.
The young whale made its appearance on the surface of the sea. The mother made a fresh dash in its direction.
Captain Hull looked towards the “Pilgrim,” and waved his signal frantically above his head. But no human efforts could effectually hasten the arrival of the ship. The wind was filling the sails, but the progress was slow.
The whale demanded attention.
“Sheer off, Howick!” bellowed the captain.
But the order was useless. The sailors saw the failure, and uttered one long, despairing cry. From beneath there came a tremendous blow from the monster’s tail. It sent the boat into the air. In fragments it fell back again into a sea.
There was no hope. The whale returns once again to the attack; the waters around the struggling sailors seethe and foam.
In a quarter of an hour afterwards, Dick Sand, with the negroes, reaches the scene of the catastrophe. All is still and desolate. Nothing is visible except a few fragments of the whale-boat floating on the water.
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