we were hard upon the
whale. The harpooner, with unerring aim, let fly his irons, and
buried them to the sockets in his huge carcass. "Stern all!"
thundered the mate. "Stern all!" echoed the crew, but it was too
late. Our bows were high and dry on the whale's head! Infuriated
with the pain produced by the harpoons, and, doubtless, much
astonished to find his head so roughly used, he rolled half over,
lashing the sea with his flukes (tail), and in his struggles dashing
in two of the upper planks. "Boat stove! boat stove!" was the
general cry. "Silence," thundered the mate as he sprang to the bow,
and exchanged places with the harpooner; "all safe, my hearties!
stern hard! stern! stern! before he gets his flukes to bear upon
us." "Stern all!" shouted we, and in a moment more we were out of
danger. The whale now "turned flukes," and dashed off to windward
with the speed of a locomotive, towing us after him at a tremendous
rate. We occasionally slacked line in order to give him plenty of
play. A stiff breeze had sprung up, causing a rough, chopping sea;
and we leaked badly in the bow-planks; but, notwithstanding the
roughness of the sea, we went with incredible swiftness. "Hoorah!"
burst from every lip. We exultingly took off our hats, and gave
three hearty cheers; but while we were skimming along so gallantly,
the whale suddenly turned, and pitched the boat on her beam-ends.
Every one who could grasp a thwart hung on to it, and we were all
fortunate enough to keep our seats. For as much as a ship's length
the boat flew through the water on her gunwale, foaming and whizzing
as she dashed onward. It was a matter of doubt as to which side
would turn uppermost, until we slacked out the line, when she
righted. To have a boat, with all her iron, lances, gear, and oars,
piled on one's head in such a sea, was rather a startling prospect
to the best swimmer. Meantime, the whale rose to the surface to
spout. The change in his course enabled another boat to come up, and
we lay on our oars, in order that Mr. D----, (the other mate) might
lance him.--He struck him in a vital part the first dart, as was
evident from the whale's furious dying struggles; but in order to
make sure, we hauled up and lanced the back of his head. Foaming and
breaching, he plunged from wave to wave, flinging high in the air
torrents of blood and spray. The sea around was literally a sea of
blood. At one moment his head was poised in the air; the next, he
bur