Chapter 11. The White Whale Shoal

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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE WHITE WHALE SHOAL

"_What_ a horrid smell, Hamish! What is it?" cried Steve, going forward.

"Bear's grease, sir. They're chust cooking the fat we got yesterday. Like to ha'e some in a pot for your hair?"

"What? Nonsense!"

"Mak' your whiskers grow, sir," said the man, grinning. "Look yonder; Watty Links has been for some. Leuk at his head."

Steve did look, to see that the boy's red hair was streaky, gummy, and shining, as he had been applying the grease wholesale--that is, with more liberality than care.

For the bear's fat--some three hundred and fifty pounds' weight--was in the great caldron surrounded by steam, which hissed beneath it from the engine-boiler as the _Hvalross_ glided slowly along about half a mile from the low, regular ice cliff, which stretched away apparently without end, glittering and displaying its lovely delicate tints of pale blue wherever it was shattered or riven at the edge.

"It does seem rum," said Steve to himself, "for the sun to be always up--let's see, what do you call it?--above the horizon."

As he reached the caldron he found Jakobsen, with his sleeves rolled above his brawny elbows, busily at work superintending the rendering down, and he looked up and gave the boy a friendly nod.

"Well, opposition cook!" cried Steve, laughing; "breakfast ready? What is it, bear-soup?"

"No, sir," said the man seriously, "only the fat."

"Ah, well, I won't taste that," said Steve; and he went on to where his comrades Andersen and Petersen were busy over the great outstretched bear's skin, which they were cleaning and dressing so that it should be perfectly preserved. Johannes was seated on a stool with a keg between his legs, the little tub being turned up to form a table, on which rested the great grinning head of the slain animal, whose skull he was carefully cleaning from every particle of flesh and fat, throwing the scraps overboard to the great cloud of sea-birds which wheeled and darted and pounced down upon every morsel thrown into the sea.

"Ugh! what a disgusting job!" said Steve.

"Think so, sir? Oh no, it's clean enough--quite fresh." And he threw over a handful of bear-flesh, after cutting it in small pieces.

"Why did you do that?" asked Steve.

"To give all the birds a chance."

"Oh! I say, how hungry they seem!"

"Yes, they do, sir. I often wonder how they live at all in the stormy times."

Steve watched till the last scrap had been snatched from the crystal clear water, and then looked round as the Norseman flung in some more fragments which he had scraped from the massive skull.

"Seems only fair, sir, eh? The bears get fat on the young birds when they can reach them on the cliffs, and now the birds can get fat on the bear."

"Why, it's like making cannibals of them," said Steve, "eating their own children second-hand."

"Yes, sir," said Johannes, pausing to whet his curious knife; "but that's how things are. One lives upon another. Birds, beasts, and fishes, they're all alike. But this will make a noble head when the skin's dressed, and a pair of glass eyes put in, and the whole stuffed out a little. It will make you think about killing it when you get home."

"I don't want to think about killing the poor brute," said Steve shortly. "Here, where's my dog? Skeny!"

There was a sharp bark in answer, but no dog appeared.

"Where is he? Here, Skeny, Skeny!"

The dog answered with another sharp bark, and, directed by the sound, the boy advanced to find the collie curled up on a tarpaulin right forward under the bowsprit.

"Hullo, old chap! why don't you come out?" cried Steve; but the dog only gave his tail a few short raps on the tarpaulin without moving his head, his eyes twinkling up from the furry hair in which his nose was buried.

"Not ill, are you?" continued Steve, bending down to pat his companion, but eliciting a whine, as if the caress had given pain.

"He's only trying to sleep it off, sir," said Johannes, scattering some more food to the gulls, which dashed at it screaming. "I felt him over this morning. He's a good bit bruised, but no bones broken."

"Did he let you--didn't he try to bite?"

"Oh no," said the man with quiet confidence; "a dog won't bite you when he's hurt, if he knows you want to do him good. We're friends, aren't we, Skene?"

The dog rapped the tarpaulin with his tail, and then lay curled up a little closer, perfectly still.

"It's wonderful, sir, how soon animals mend up again without doctoring. A few licks, a little going on short food, and plenty of sleep, and they soon come round. One may do worse than imitate them sometimes."

Steve made no reply, for the simple reason that he had nothing to say; but he could not help wondering what Mr Handscombe would think, as he got up on the bowsprit just where it passed out over the vessel's prow, held on by the rigging, and had a good look round. But on his left there was nothing but the long, low ice cliff; on his right the glittering sea, flecked with grey sea-birds floating above or calmly sitting on the blue water.

He leaped down, gave Skene a pat, promised him some breakfast, and was going aft toward the galley, but just then Johannes had turned the skin back over the bare skull, pretty well restoring the shape of the head, and he held it up.

"Make a grand ornament, sir, when it's done. Fine ivory teeth, hasn't it?"

"Yes. Lend it to me a moment."

He took hold of the head, and at that moment became conscious of the fact that Watty's greasy shock head was thrust outside of the galley, and that the lad was watching him with a sneering grin upon his countenance. There was not the slightest occasion to take any notice, but these derisive grins made Steve feel hot, and as if he must punch that head as hard as ever he could, for if he did not he told himself that the annoyance would grow worse. He paid no further heed to the boy then, but carried the heavy head to where Skene lay curled up to try the effect upon the dog. That was visible directly in the ruffling up of the thick frill and a low, deep growl; but the next minute Skene gave a short bark, and curled his tail over his nose again, as if quite satisfied that he was only being played with, and Steve bore back the trophy.

"Knows better," said Johannes, smiling in his grave way; "dogs have got more sense than we think for."

"Cooks' boys haven't," said Steve shortly, as he heard a low, jeering chuckle, and saw that Watty had been watching him all the time, and now drew in his head for a few moments, but thrust it out again to indulge in another grin, which made Steve writhe and show his annoyance so plainly that the Norseman said quietly:

"Don't take any notice of his sauce."

"No, I won't," said Steve shortly, as the head was withdrawn. But the next moment--the cook being apparently too much engaged to notice the conduct of his help--Watty thrust out his head again, and, seeing the annoyance he gave, uttered another low, derisive chuckle.

Steve, unable to control himself, made an angry gesture, and the boy withdrew his grinning face.

"He'll do it again directly," thought Steve; and, acting on the impulse of the moment, he caught up the bear's head, ran sharply the few steps to the galley door, stood ready close up to the side waiting; and as Watty thrust out his face again grinning, it was into another so fierce and horrible-looking that he stood for a moment petrified, and then uttered a loud yell, darted back, and slammed to the door.

Steve felt better after that, and hurriedly returned the bear's head prior to seeing about breakfast, for another odour saluted his nostrils, that of frizzling bacon--so suggestive a smell to a hungry lad that he made for the cabin at once, to find the captain, Mr Lowe, and Mr Handscombe just gathered for their morning meal.

The breakfast was hardly over when there was a hail from aloft, where Andrew McByle was occupying the crow's-nest.

"There she spouts!" he cried; and Steve was the first on deck to see the whale, for he knew the meaning of the sailor's cry.

Running to the main-mast he mounted the shrouds for some twenty feet, and then, with his arm thrust through the ratlines and embracing one of the taut stays of the mast, he stood gazing in astonishment at the sight before him. For he had hurried on deck fully expecting to see one of the great dark Greenland whales diving down after food, coming to the surface again to blow, and then throw its flukes high in the air with a flourish as it dived once more. But, instead of a single whale, the sea appeared to be alive with them, playing about in the water, gambolling on the surface or diving under. Then they were up again, making the sea foam as they flourished their tails, uttered a strange, faint, snorting sound as they blew and whistled, and dived down once more. But it was not playing, for they were in chase of an enormous shoal of small fish, upon which they were feasting.

There was quite an excitement amongst the men, who, without waiting for orders, saw to the tackle in the boats, Johannes and Petersen hastening to add white whale harpoons to the rest of the implements.

"Well, Steve, my lad," cried the doctor, "what do you think of the shoal? You ought to have brought your fishing-rod and line."

"Nonsense!" said the lad shortly; "but I say, Mr Handscombe, you don't call these whales?"

"What, then, my lad? They're white whales."

"Young ones? Then that's why they are white."

"No, my lad, old ones. Look; plenty of them have got their two young ones with them."

"Oh, but surely these are not full-grown whales! Why, the biggest can't be sixteen feet long."

"Quite right; about fourteen, I should say. Come down; you'll want to go in one of the boats. Look; they've got in the lines."

Steve looked down, and saw that the men were carefully stowing two tubs in the fore part of the boats, each tub containing, in carefully laid-down rings, about a hundred and fifty yards of strong line.

"But surely they're not going to harpoon those baby whales like they do the big ones?"

"Yes, just the same, lad. Come down if you want to have some of the sport."

The captain stepped into one boat, and Steve followed, the doctor going off in the other with Jakobsen and the crew.

The next minute the word was given to sit fast and be silent, and the boats were rowed rapidly toward the great shoal, which must have numbered a thousand or fifteen hundred, while the water was one mass of foam.

"Are these good, these white whales?" said Steve to the captain, as the boat cut through the water, and Johannes stood ready with his harpoon, a very different implement from that provided for the walrus, being barbed so as to form a kind of hook, and, once through, could not be withdrawn from the gutta-percha-like side, of which it would take up a loop tough enough to hold the stoutest sea-horse they could strike. The harpoon used for the white whale was lighter, and had a head which somewhat resembled a half-moon, fitted to work at the end of the shaft, and slight, so that one point of the half-moon would stand in a line with the pole, while the other was secured by a band to the shaft. When the harpoon was driven into the whale, the band which held the second point of the head down to the pole was pushed off in passing through the skin and flesh, while at the first tug upon the line attached to the harpoon the loose head would be drawn crosswise, forming instead of a spear a double barb, which was strong enough to hold in the flesh without being drawn out.

The captain was too intent upon the shoal to answer Steve's question, which he repeated.

"Good, my lad? Yes. The oil is the purest and best to be had, and very valuable; but of course not to be obtained in such quantities as are procured from the larger whales. I hope we shall get three or four, though. They will help to fill up our tanks."

"I wish he'd think more of finding the _Ice Blink_ than of filling the tanks," thought Steve; but the next moment he, too, was thinking of nothing but the shoal of fish, as the men called them, though they were air-breathing animals instead; for now the chase became exciting. The belugas seemed to take no notice of the boats, but they were going rapidly through the water in chase of their prey, and when a fine one was selected it dived and went away swiftly beneath the water, so that it was difficult to tell where the creature would rise again.

Johannes gave his orders to the men, so that they might row toward the spot where the whale was likely to rise, and so give him a chance to hurl his harpoon before the animal had time to dive again. But this was not easy. Whether the curious blunt-nosed, white-skinned, active creature, with its back clear of all fish-like fin, was on the alert for the coming harpoon or for the meal it was seeking it is impossible to say, but certainly it showed a remarkable activity in keeping just out of reach. It would rise just exactly where not expected, and the whole business of the chase had to be gone through again and again.

Steve was too much occupied with the efforts of their own harpooner to pay any heed to what was going on aboard the other boat, and divided his time between watching the tall, active Norseman and the spot where it was anticipated that the whale would rise.

At last, after hard pulling, fortune favoured the men's efforts. They had had a long tug, and there being no sign of the quarry they sought Johannes bade the rowers rest, while he stood with one foot resting upon the gunwale expectant.

"It's of no use," said the captain; "it must have gone right on. Look, Steve, how plentiful they are yonder. That's where we ought to have the boat."

He pointed to where pretty well a hundred of the great creatures were flapping in and out of the water; but Steve shook his head.

"Be too dangerous," he said. "Ah, look!"

He started to one side, for at that moment something of a creamy-white suddenly shot out of the water close to the bows of the boat, rose high with a graceful bend, and was curving over to make a plunge down into the depths, when--_whish_! _thud_!--the harpoon was thrown; it stuck a short distance behind the creature's head, and then with one blow the water was sent flying over the occupants of the boat, while the line was running rapidly out of the tub as the white whale disappeared from sight.

Like its relative the leviathan, of fifty or sixty feet in length, which boasts of a mouth big enough to hold a jollyboat and crew, who would doubtless find their quarters exceedingly uncomfortable on account of the forest of whalebone hanging down from the roof, the white whale cannot keep under water long without coming up to breathe; but the one Johannes had so cleverly struck nearly carried out the whole of the line, which Steve watched darting out ring by ring over the bows, till, in spite of the riskiness of the proceeding, the second Norseman seized the end which lay outside the tub, and gave it a hitch round a block in the bows left for the purpose.

"Be ready for a ride, Steve," said the captain, "if he does not pull us under before they can cut the rope; in that case be ready for a swim."

"The first for preference," thought Steve; but neither event occurred, for the rope suddenly ceased running, and as Johannes armed himself with one of the great lances which lay along the thwarts, his companion rapidly hauled in the slack line and laid it in rings once more.

Practice had made the man wonderfully perfect in this duty, and fathom after fathom was laid in, while the whale remained under so long that the captain shouted to Johannes:

"Has the harpoon come out?"

"I don't know yet, sir; I'm afraid so," was the reply. "These fish are so tender; they are often lost in this way."

And all the time the second man kept on hauling in the line, and the others lay on their oars, for the rope came up straight out of the deep water.

"Yes, sir, he has gone, I fear," said Johannes.

"No!" cried the other, for the slack line suddenly tightened and was jerked out of his hand; then the water parted about a dozen yards from the boat, the head of the whale appeared, and then the whole of the creature, as it rose higher, curved right over, and descended head first again, its tail giving a peculiar wave in the air before it disappeared, while all had a glimpse of the harpoon shaft, which directly after was seen floating on the surface of the water.

"Gone this time!" cried Steve in disappointed tones.

"Yes, he has gone almost straight down."

"And we have lost him?"

"I hope not, sir," said Johannes, leaning over the side, as the boat glided on, and picking up the long shaft of the harpoon.

"And you've lost the head of the harpoon, too."

"Oh no, that's fast to the line," replied the man; "the shaft is meant to come out, so that it shall not be broken."

"I did not understand that," muttered the boy, as the line that had been recovered now began to run out again as rapidly as before, hissing over the gunwale, and judging from the speed looking as if the last ring would soon be out and the whale dragging at the boat.

The captain was evidently of the same opinion, for he spoke to Johannes, who was standing like a statue with his lance ready.

"Will he snap the line, do you think?"

"No, sir. If he runs all out, we shall have a sharp tug; but the rope will hold."

"He won't pull us under water, will he?" cried Steve.

"Oh no, sir; no fear of that. He'll swim near to the top after this run, and keep on coming up to breathe. He may give us a ride. Here he comes again."

For the rope ceased running once more, showing how accurately the length of line was calculated for giving the creatures the full extent of their rush and no more.

Once more it was rapidly hauled in, and laid down in rings in the tub; but before half was recovered there was a movement, which was seized upon as a signal how to act, for the whale was not to have more line, the latter being rapidly twisted round the block, after which there was a tremendous jerk, and the boat's head was dragged down till it seemed as if it must admit the water, but the next minute it was rushing rapidly along sending a line of foam on either side. This lasted for a time, and then ceased, the whale rising and curving over once more, flourishing its tail in the air, and then apparently diving straight down.

More line was gained and ringed this time, when the tension ceased, and again the whale appeared, curved over, and dived down again. Then once more there was the shock, and the boat was dragged along again. But this was by no means so sturdy a tugging as the last, and before long the rope slackened, the whale came up for breath, and dived slowly.

In a few minutes more there ceased to be any idea of danger, for the captive was nearly exhausted, and the end was coming; for each dive was shorter in depth as well as time. The whale then tried fresh tactics, rising to the surface and rolling over and beating the water heavily with its tail; but all in vain: it could not rid itself of the deeply plunged harpoon, and lay for a few moments perfectly quiet.

All at once it seemed to become aware of the fact that the boat which was approaching it rapidly had something to do with its trouble, and diving suddenly it made a rush for it; but the oars were cleverly managed, and its aim frustrated, while as it passed close by the bows Johannes' great lance struck it full, penetrating deeply before it was snatched out, and the next minute the whale was a dozen yards astern lashing the water with its tail.

An order or two rapidly executed, and the boat was pulled to within safe distance; Johannes made two tremendous lunges with his lance, and the whale turned slowly over and lay quivering for a few minutes; then it was still, and the men gave a cheer.

"Poor whale," thought Steve, who was far from being hardened over such matters; but he tried to think that this capture meant so many gallons of beautifully clear oil, and money for defraying the expenses of their search, and he now stood up to have a good long look at their prize, which was fully fifteen feet long and proportionately heavy.

And now, the excitement of the chase being over, the question arose where was the _Hvalross_, and where was the other boat? These questions were answered by the two vessels, which formed with them a triangle, whose sides were about a mile in length; while, to add to the satisfaction of the adventure, the other boat was showing a signal, and they could see that it was towing something astern.

Meanwhile Johannes and his fellow-harpooners were busily securing a rope to their prize and drawing in and laying up their line. Next the harpoon was carefully cut out from where it was deeply imbedded in the animal's back; and then the boat's head was turned for the ship, which was steaming slowly towards them as they rowed on towing their carefully secured prize astern.

"I'm glad they've had good luck, too," said Steve; "but, I say, what has become of the shoal?"

"Gone right away, sir," replied Johannes. "We startled them, and they smelt danger. We may catch up to them by-and-by."

"Not to-day," said Captain Marsham quietly. "Pull, my lads;" and he steered so that they might get nearer to their companions' boat and the _Hvalross_ be reached by them both at once.

"You are right, sir," said Johannes in his quiet, independent, but respectful manner; "we shall not see the whales again to-day, and we must make haste if we are to reach the ship before it comes."

"Before what comes?" said Steve, wondering at the man's manner.

"Look," he said, pointing to the north-west.

"What at?" replied Steve; "the long line of ice?"

"No," said Captain Marsham. "Look right beyond the ire. Another of those pests--troubles of arctic voyaging, my boy," he continued, correcting himself.

"What, that silvery-looking cloud over the ice? Does that mean wind?"

"I wish it did, Steve, so as to save our coal. No, boy; it means another of those dense mists. I hope only a passing one; but you have had a taste of what an arctic fog can be like. We must make haste; these mists creep on so swiftly. Make a signal, Johannes. The _Hvalross_ must come on and pick us up, or we shall have to cast off our fish."

The next minute a little flag was hoisted in the bows to the end of one of the lance-poles, with the result that there was soon after a cloud of black smoke rolling out of the steamer's funnel and an increase in the white water at her stern; but the boat went no faster, for the white whale was heavy, although the men pulled with a will.

"They ought to see the fog coming on in the other boat," said the captain impatiently. "Of course if we are shut in we shall be able to reach the _Hvalross_. We could do that by listening for their signals, which they would be sure to make; but I hate unnecessary anxiety, Steve, and it is very awkward to be caught by one of these dense mists-- everything is so puzzling."

He ceased speaking, and sat watching the other boat making, like themselves, slowly for the same point. And now, seeing the urgency, Johannes and his brother Norsemen seated themselves and put out spare oars to help on the speed. But the whale they were towing seemed to anchor them in one place; and at last, just as the steamer was still quite half a mile away, a peculiar change came over the sea. The sun was still shining brightly, but the other boat grew dim and enlarged-looking, as if it were magnified and set in a bluish opal. There was the long range of ice cliff, but it was curiously blue and undefined.

"I say," cried Steve suddenly, "what's the matter with the _Hvalross_?"

He started from his seat as he spoke, for the steamer was no longer upon the blue water,--there was no blue water,--but apparently twenty feet up in the air, and gradually rising higher till it was double the height, while the funnel, masts, and hull looked soft and swollen out of all proportion.

"An optical illusion, my boy," said the captain quietly. "Sit down. You have heard of refraction. It is a peculiar state of the air. I daresay we look the same to them. Pull, my lads. I'm afraid the mist will be down upon us before we can reach the ship. Look at that."

Steve was already looking at the peculiar way in which their companion boat was dying out of sight, till it was perfectly invisible; and yet it was clear about where they were, only for a few minutes, though. Then there was a faint, gauzy film close by, into which they rowed, and as they passed completely in, the _Hvalross_ was almost hidden; five minutes later it was not to be seen.

The mist was upon them, thickening each moment, and a curiously depressing chill came over the boy. It was as if the cold were attacking his mind as well as his body, and he quite started as the deep voice of Johannes said, the words sounding muffled:

"Keep your helm fast, sir. We mustn't miss the ship."

"Mustn't miss the ship," thought Steve, with a strange sense of dread creeping over him now like another and darker mist. "If we did miss her, what then?" _

Read next: Chapter 12. A Strange Peril

Read previous: Chapter 10. Ursa Major At Home

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