CHAPTER XVIII
ON BOARD THE WHALER
It did not take long for the excited party to learn that the ship, which now offered them a comfortable temporary home, was the Arctic, Captain John Smith, of Bedford.
The rescued party was immediately taken into the captain’s cabin, and for over an hour questioned as to their past adventures.
Jack Marcy concealed the fact of Captain Morris’ plot to sink the Golden Moose with a grim resolution that, when he once more reached Portland, the truth should be made known.
Inquiry from Captain Smith revealed the fact that the Arctic was a whaler fully rigged for a cruise to the far North.
The castaways were cared for and treated with kindly consideration, and the next morning the Captain said to Jack Marcy:
“We cannot change our course to get you ashore, boatswain.”
“We could not expect that, sir.”
“But should we meet a returning vessel?”
“’Taint likely at this season of the year.”
“No, not so early. Still, we make a landing five days ahead, with favorable weather, and you can go ashore and wait for a ship going back.”
“All right, Captain.”
“Or, if you and Hugo want to ship with us? We’re short-handed.”
Jack considered deeply.
“There’s the lads, sir.”
“We might make them useful, and, with a successful voyage, they might get home almost as soon as waiting for a ship at our last landing station.”
“I’ll think it over, sir,” said Jack. “Meantime, make us useful around the ship.”
The boys were delighted with the Arctic, and the arrangements made for the capture of whales and the securing of oil fairly fascinated them.
Were it not for thoughts of anxious friends at home Will Bertram would have been glad to accompany the Arctic on her voyage.
Circumstances prevented their stopping at the landing place Captain Smith had spoken of. A storm drove the ship out of its course, and without passing a single ship, two weeks after picking up the sailors and the boys the captain assigned them to duties on the ship.
“You’ll have to stay with the Arctic till she returns, now,” he said, “and you might find less comfortable quarters.”
Jack and Hugo were easily provided for, and the boys were given light duties to perform. The variety and excitement of the voyage made time pass pleasantly, and they resigned themselves to the inevitable when they learned that their return home was a matter of the far future.
“We’ve crossed the line of the whale hunting grounds, and you may expect to see some sport,” said old Jack one day.
His prediction was verified soon afterwards. The Arctic had been sailing into lower temperatures, and one morning, after passing several large masses of ice, was put in order for a whale catch.
The boats and harpoons were got ready, and about noon the man on watch sang out the cry so familiar to old whalers,
“Ahoy! There she blows!”
Immediately the deck was a scene of action. Two boats were lowered, and the men piled into them indiscriminately.
Old Jack had arranged with the Captain to take part in the capture, and, to Will’s delight, found a place for him by his side in one of the boats.
A mile or more to the south every eye had noticed a volume of water spurted into the air, the signal of the location of the whale.
There was a brisk rivalry between the two boats to reach the whale first. The monster they were in pursuit of had disappeared beneath the surface of the water but became visible at times again, and the boats were rapidly nearing its vicinity.
The boat Jack and Will were in was commanded by the mate of the Arctic and soon gained a lead on the other boat.
At last, they came so near to the whale that one of the sailors stood, with harpoon poised, ready to strike at the proper moment.
Will, watching with profound interest, saw the harpoon fly forward. It became lodged in the body of the whale. Then there was a quick jerk, and the monster disappeared beneath the waves, the blood from its wound dyeing the water a bright red.
The rope attached to the harpoon that had struck the whale was wound around a stout reel in the boat, and this began to go out so rapidly that it seemed as if it would saw itself in two whenever it touched the edge of the boat.
The whale after diving deep came up again to the surface of the water and began running at a terrible rate of speed.
“The reel’s out,” cried a sailor.
The oars were drawn in now and the boat was abandoned entirely to the caprice of the whale.
It was a novel experience for Will—a ride, with the marine monster as a horse.
One of the sailors stood by the reel with a hatchet in his hand, uplifted as if ready to sever the rope at a moment’s notice.
“What is he waiting for?” Will inquired of Jack.
“You see the rope is all played out?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if the whale should dive the boat would follow. See there!”
“Cut loose!”
This cry came from the mate, who had been watching the whale’s maneuvers.
At the same moment, the whale disappeared again.
The hatchet descended and cut the rope in two.
The men resumed their oars and rowed rapidly towards the spot where the whale had last been seen.
A second harpoon, with a smaller reel of rope, was hastily got ready.
Suddenly there was a commotion directly by the side of the boat. The practiced harpooner flung the harpoon as the whale came up, and then a scene of indescribable confusion ensued.
The whale had struck the boat with its tail, crushing the boat in which Will sat and flinging its occupants high in the air.
Old Jack seized Will as they fell into the water, and then caught at a floating piece of the boat.
The other sailors swam towards the companion boat, which hurried to the scene of the disaster and picked up all who were in the water.
Half an hour later the Arctic was signaled and came to where the whale lay floating on the water, dead from the wounds it had received.
The cutting up of the monster and the securing of the oil was an active and interesting scene for the boys.
For nearly two weeks the Arctic cruised in the vicinity. Several other whales were sighted, but evaded capture.
A terrible storm drove them northwards soon afterwards. During its prevalence, the boys were ordered to remain below.
At last one morning, the tempest subsided, and the boys came on deck.
A cry of amazement and delight broke from their lips.
The Arctic was sailing onward amid fields of floating icebergs.
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