t began to
tear through the water, still requiring the paying out of the rope. For
an instant it slackened and the winch reeled in a little line. There was
a sudden jerk and then the line fell slack. Working like demons, the men
made the winch handles fairly fly as the line came in, and within
another minute the whale spouted, blowing strongly and sounding again.
He sulked at the bottom for over twenty minutes, coming up suddenly
quite near the boat. Scotty had lost no time, and not more than
thirty-five fathom of line was out when the monster rose.

"He's a big un, Hank!" called Scotty. "Want the other line?"

"Got it!" was the brief reply, and Colin saw that the harpoon-gun had
been reloaded.

"Sounding again!" called Scotty as the rope fell slack.

"No!" yelled Hank. "Stand by, all!"

Then suddenly:

"Back oars! Back, you lubbers! Hard as you know how!"

The oars bent like yew-staves.

"Back starboard! Hard!"

With the blood rushing to his brain, Colin, who was on the starboard
side of the boat, threw his whole energy into the back stroke, and the
boat spun round like a top into what seemed to be the seething center of
a submarine volcano, for, with a roar that made the timbers of the boat
vibrate, the gray whale spouted not six feet from where the boy was
sitting. Dimly he saw the harpoon hurtle through the spray and the sharp
crack of the explosion sounded in his ear.

Catching his breath chokingly, Colin was only conscious of the fact that
he was expected to pull and he leapt into the stroke as the six oars
shot the boat ahead.

Not soon enough, though! For, as the boat plunged from the crest of a
wave the whale swirled, making a suction like a whirlpool into which the
craft lurched drunkenly. Then the great creature, turning with a speed
that seemed incredible, brought down the flukes of his tail in the
direction of the boat, snapping off the stroke oar like a pipe-stem.
Avidsen, the oarsman, a burly Norwegian, though his wrist was sharply
and painfully wrenched by the blow, made no complaint, but reached out
for one of the spare oars the boat always carried.

Colin was not so calm. Despite his courage, the shock of that tremendous
tail striking the water within arm's-length of the boat had shaken his
nerve, and the sudden drenching with the icy waters of Behring Sea had
taken his breath away. But he was game and stuck to his oar. Looking at
Hank, he saw that the old fighter of the seas had dropped