ifted a yard or more. Nor
was this unintentional, gentle impact all. The instant after her
shoulder had touched, startled by the contact, she flailed out with her
tail. The blow smote the rail just for'ard of the fore-shrouds,
splintering a gap through it as if it were no more than a cigar-box and
cracking the covering board.

That was all, and an entire ship's company stared down in silence and
fear at a sea-monster grief-stricken over its dying progeny.

Several times, in the course of an hour, during which the schooner and
the two whales drifted farther and farther apart, the calf strove vainly
to swim. Then it set up a great quivering, which culminated in a wild
wallowing and lashing about of its tail.

"It is the death-flurry," said the Ancient Mariner softly.

"By damn, it's dead," was Captain Doane's comment five minutes later.
"Who'd believe it? A rifle bullet! I wish to heaven we could get half
an hour's breeze of wind to get us out of this neighbourhood."

"A close squeak," said Grimshaw,

Captain Doane shook his head, as his anxious eyes cast aloft to the empty
canvas and quested on over the sea in the hope of wind-ruffles on the
water. But all was glassy calm, each great sea, of all the orderly
procession of great seas, heaving up, round-topped and mountainous, like
so much quicksilver.

"It's all right," Grimahaw encouraged. "There she goes now, beating it
away from us."

"Of course it's all right, always was all right," Nishikanta bragged, as
he wiped the sweat from his face and neck and looked with the others
after the departing whale. "You're a fine brave lot, you are, losing
your goat to a fish."

"I noticed your face was less yellow than usual," Grimshaw sneered. "It
must have gone to your heart."

Captain Doane breathed a great sigh. His relief was too strong to permit
him to join in the squabbling.

"You're yellow," Grimshaw went on, "yellow clean through." He nodded his
head toward the Ancient Mariner. "Now there's the real thing as a man.
No yellow in him. He never batted an eye, and I reckon he knew more
about the danger than you did. If I was to choose being wrecked on a
desert island with him or you, I'd take him a thousand times first. If--"

But a cry from the sailors interrupted him.

"Merciful God!" Captain Doane breathed aloud.

The great cow whale had turned about, and, on the surface, was charging
straight back at them. Such was her speed that a bore was