very noise, sir, but this one’s way louder. So there can be no mistake. There’s definitely a whale lurking in our waters. With your permission, sir,” the harpooner added, “tomorrow at daybreak we’ll have words with it.”
“If it’s in a mood to listen to you, Mr. Land,” I replied in a tone far from convinced.
Near two o’clock in the morning, the core of light reappeared, no less intense, five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln. Despite the distance, despite the noise of wind and sea, we could distinctly hear the animal’s panting breath. Seemingly, the moment this enormous narwhale came up to breathe at the surface of the ocean, air was sucked into its lungs like steam into the huge cylinders.
“Hmm!” I said to myself. “Now that’s a whale of a whale!”
We stayed on the alert until daylight, getting ready for action. Our chief officer loaded the blunderbusses. Ned Land sharpened his harpoon, a dreadful weapon in his hands.
At six o’clock day began to break, and with the dawn’s early light, the narwhale’s electric glow disappeared. At seven o’clock a very dense morning mist shrank the horizon, and our best spyglasses were unable to pierce it. The outcome: disappointment and anger.
At eight o’clock the horizon grew wider and clearer all at once. Suddenly, just as on the previous evening, Ned Land’s voice was audible.
“There’s the thing, astern to port!” the harpooner shouted.
Every eye looked toward the point indicated.
There, a mile and a half from the frigate, a long blackish body emerged a meter above the waves. Its tail was creating a considerable eddy.
Our frigate drew nearer to the cetacean. I put its length at only 250 feet. Its girth was more difficult to judge, but the animal seemed to be wonderfully proportioned in all three dimensions.
While I was observing this phenomenal creature, two jets of steam and water sprang from its blowholes and rose to an altitude of forty meters.
The crew were waiting impatiently for orders from their leader. The latter, after carefully observing the animal, called for his engineer.
“Clap on full steam![19]” the commander said.
“Aye, sir,” the engineer replied.
Three cheers greeted this order. The hour of battle had sounded. A few moments later, the frigate’s two funnels vomited torrents of black smoke.
Driven forward by its powerful propeller, the Abraham Lincoln headed straight for the animal. Unconcerned, the latter let us come within half a cable length; then it got up a little speed, retreated, and kept its distance.
This chase dragged on for about three-quarters of an hour, but it was useless. At this rate, it was obvious that we would never catch up with it.
“Ned Land!” Commander Farragut called.
The Canadian reported at once.
“Well, Mr. Land,” the commander asked, “do you still advise putting my longboats to sea?”
“No, sir,” Ned Land replied, “because that beast won’t be caught against its will.”
“Then what should we do?”
“If we can get within a harpoon length, I’ll harpoon the brute.”
“Go to it, Ned,” Commander Farragut replied.
Ned Land made his way to his post. We verified that our ship was going at the rate of 18.5 miles per hour. But that damned animal also did a speed of 18.5. This was humiliating for one of the fastest ships in the American navy.
What a chase! No, I can’t describe the excitement that shook my very being. Ned Land stayed at his post, harpoon in hand. Several times the animal let us approach. But by noon we were no farther along than at eight o’clock in the morning.
Commander Farragut then decided to use more direct methods.
“Bah!” he said. “So that animal is faster than us. All right, we’ll see if it can outrun our conical shells[20]!
The cannoneer fired a shot, but his shell passed some feet above the cetacean, which stayed half a mile off.
“$500 to the man who can pierce that infernal beast!” the Commander shouted
An old gray-bearded gunner approached the cannon, put it in position, and took aim. There was a mighty explosion, mingled with cheers from the crew.
The shell reached its target; it hit the animal, but not in the usual fashion—it bounced off that rounded surface and vanished into the sea two miles out.
“Oh!” said the old gunner in his anger. “That rascal must be covered with six-inch armor plate!”
“Curse the beast!” Commander Farragut shouted.
The hunt was on again, and Commander Farragut leaned over to me, saying:
“I’ll chase that animal till my frigate explodes!”
“Yes,” I replied, “and nobody would blame you!”
We could still hope that the animal would tire out. But no such luck. Hour after hour went by without it showing the least sign of weariness.
Night fell and wrapped the surging ocean in its shadows. By then I thought our expedition had come to an end, that we would never see this fantastic animal again. I was mistaken.
At 10:50 in the evening, that electric light reappeared, just as clear and intense as the night before. The narwhale seemed motionless. Was it asleep perhaps, weary from its workday, just riding with the waves? This was our chance, and Commander Farragut was determined to take full advantage of it. He gave his orders.
Ned Land went to resume his post. The frigate approached without making a sound, stopped two cable lengths from the animal. Not a soul breathed on board. A profound silence reigned over the deck.
Just then I saw Ned Land below me, one hand grasping the martingale, the other brandishing his dreadful harpoon. Barely twenty feet separated him from the motionless animal.
All at once his arm shot forward and the harpoon was launched. I heard the weapon collide resonantly, as if it had hit some hard substance.
The electric light suddenly went out, and two enormous waterspouts crashed onto the deck of the frigate, racing like a torrent, toppling crewmen, breaking masts.
A hideous collision occurred, and thrown over the rail, I was hurled into the sea.
Chapter 7
Although I was startled by this unexpected descent, I have a very clear recollection of my sensations during it.
At first I was dragged about twenty feet under. I’m a good swimmer, and I didn’t lose my head [21]on the way down. With two vigorous kicks, I came back to the surface of the sea.
My
Clap on full steam! – Дать полный ход!
conical shells – конические бомбы
I didn’t lose my head – я не растерялся
