him to attempt the adventure. Besides, that sea, so fine, was marvelously conducive to the pursuit of a cetacean. Neither his crew nor he could resist such a temptation. The fishing cruise would be finally complete, and this last consideration touched Captain Hull's heart above everything.
Captain Hull went toward the ladder.
"I wish you success," said Mrs. Weldon to him.
"Thank you, Mrs. Weldon."
"I beg you, do not do too much harm to the poor whale," cried little
Jack.
"No, my boy," replied Captain Hull.
"Take it very gently, sir."
"Yes—with gloves, little Jack."
"Sometimes," observed Cousin Benedict, "we find rather curious insects on the back of these large mammals."
"Well, Mr. Benedict," replied Captain Hull, laughing, "you shall have the right to 'entomologize' when our jubarte will be alongside of the 'Pilgrim.'"
Then turning to Tom:
"Tom, I count on your companions and you," said he, "to assist us in cutting up the whale, when it is lashed to the ship's hull—which will not be long."
"At your disposal, sir," replied the old black.
"Good!" replied Captain Hull.
"Dick, these honest men will aid you in preparing the empty barrels. During our absence they will bring them on deck, and by this means the work will go fast on our return."
"That shall be done, captain."
For the benefit of those who do not know, it is necessary to say that the jubarte, once dead, must be towed as far as the "Pilgrim," and firmly lashed to her starboard side. Then the sailors, shod in boots, with cramp-hooks would take their places on the back of the enormous cetacean, and cut it up methodically in parallel bands marked off from the head to the tail. These bands would be then cut across in slices of a foot and a half, then divided into pieces, which, after being stowed in the barrels, would be sent to the bottom of the hold.
Generally the whaling ship, when the fishing is over, manages to land as soon as possible, so as to finish her manipulations. The crew lands, and then proceeds to melt the lard, which, under the action of the heat, gives up all its useful part—that is, the oil. In this operation, the whale's lard weighs about a third of its weight.
But, under present circumstances, Captain Hull could not dream of putting back to finish that operation. He only counted on melting this quantity of lard at Valparaiso. Besides, with winds which could not fail to hail from the west, he hoped to make the American coast before twenty days, and that lapse of time could not compromise the results of his fishing.
The moment for setting out had come. Before the "Pilgrim's" sails had been brought aback, she had drawn a little nearer to the place where the jubarte continued to signal its presence by jets of vapor and water.
The jubarte was all this time swimming in the middle of the vast red field of crustaceans, opening its large mouth automatically, and absorbing at each draught myriads of animalcules.
According to the experienced ones on board, there was no fear that the whale dreamt of escaping. It was, doubtless, what the whalers call a "fighting" whale.
Captain Hull strode over the netting, and, descending the rope ladder, he reached the prow of the whale-boat.
Mrs. Weldon, Jack, Cousin Benedict, Tom, and his companions, for a last time wished the captain success.
Dingo itself, rising on its paws and passing its head above the railing, seemed to wish to say good-by to the crew.
Then all returned to the prow, so as to lose none of the very attractive movements of such a fishing.
The whale-boat put off, and, under the impetus of its four oars, vigorously handled, it began to distance itself from the "Pilgrim."
"Watch well, Dick, watch well!" cried Captain Hull to the young novice for the last time.
"Count on me, sir."
"One eye for the ship, one eye for the whale-boat, my boy. Do not forget it."
"That shall be done, captain," replied Dick Sand, who went to take his place near the helm.
Already the light boat was several hundred feet from the ship. Captain Hull, standing at the prow, no longer able to make himself heard, renewed his injunctions by the most expressive gestures.
It was then that Dingo, its paws still resting on the railing, gave a sort of lamentable bark, which would have an unfavorable effect upon men somewhat given to superstition.
That bark even made Mrs. Weldon shudder.
"Dingo," said she, "Dingo, is that the way you encourage your friends?
Come, now, a fine bark, very clear, very sonorous, very joyful."
But the dog barked no more, and, letting itself fall back on its paws, it came slowly to Mrs. Weldon, whose hand it licked affectionately.
"It does not wag its tail," murmured Tom in a low tone. "Bad sign—bad sign."
But almost at once Dingo stood up, and a howl of anger escaped it.
Mrs. Weldon turned round.
Negoro had just left his quarters, and was going toward the forecastle, with the intention, no doubt, of looking for himself at the movements of the whale-boat.
Dingo rushed at the head cook, a prey to the strongest as well as to the most inexplicable fury.
Negoro seized a hand-spike and took an attitude of defense.
The dog was going to spring at his throat.
"Here, Dingo, here!" cried Dick Sand, who, leaving his post of observation for an instant, ran to the prow of the ship.
Mrs. Weldon on her side, sought to calm the dog.
Dingo obeyed, not without repugnance, and returned to the young novice, growling secretly.
Negoro had not pronounced a single word, but his face had grown pale for a moment. Letting go of his hand-spike, he regained his cabin.
"Hercules," then said Dick Sand, "I charge you especially to watch over that man."
"I shall watch," simply replied Hercules, clenching his two enormous fists in sign of assent.
Mrs. Weldon and Dick Sand then turned their eyes again on the whale-boat, which the four oarsmen bore rapidly away.
It was nothing but a speck on the sea.
* * * * *
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