s breath, so excited was
he.

But we had expected the order and were ready for it. The oars went in
with unanimity and the boat shot back, for a whaleboat is as sharp at
one end as it is at the other.

The whale made no flurry, however. It was as though he lay stunned for
half a minute--perhaps longer. Then he made up his mind what to do, and
he did it with a promptness and speed that was amazing.

Like a spurred horse the whale started ahead. I declare, it seemed as
though half his length came out of the sea at the first jump. The line
whizzed over the bow as though it were tackled to a fast express.

"Pull!" yelled Ben and we laid to the oars so that when the line ran out
the shock would not be so great. When the first line was all out and Tom
bent on another we were rushing through the water like mad. We passed
the captain's boat just after he had struck on himself and his kill had
sounded.

"Go it, young man!" yelled Captain Rogers, standing up and waving his
hat to his nephew, "you're going out of town faster than you'll come
back."

All we could do in that double-ended boat was to sit still and hold
tight. I candidly believe that we traveled at a speed of a mile minute.
I had once been aboard of a turbine launch, and the black water was
thrown up on either side of that whaleboat in a wave just as it had
flowed away from the nose of the launch!

This wave seemed to be three feet higher than the gunwale of the boat
and as black as ebony. Even Tom Anderly cast a glance at the
boat-hatchet as though he contemplated cutting the taut line. Our eyes
were blinded by the wind which seemed to be blowing a hurricane.
Actually there was scarcely a breath stirring over the surface of the
placid ocean.

Our locomotive went directly through the school. Its mates rolled
placidly and eyed us as we shot by with wicked glance. But none of them
followed the boat which continued to tear through the water with
undiminished speed.

But after a time we found that we had company, and mighty unpleasant
company, too. In the boiling wake of the whaleboat I could see a dozen
triangular fins--the fins of the real tiger shark of the tropics. Not a
nice spectacle to men in such a situation as ours. Secretly I was
frightened, and I reckon even the oldest in the boat's crew felt
serious.

The mad whale was taking us farther and farther away from the bark and
our friends. Indeed, the Scarboro was wiped out of sight, it seemed,
within