t manned by six experienced whalers. One of them was the
coxswain, another the harpooner, while the others sat at the oars. The
harpoon line, an inch thick, lay carefully coiled up, and ran out
through a brass eye in the bow. Every man knew from long experience what
he had to do at any particular minute, and therefore there was silence
on board, all working without orders.

When all is ready one of the boats rows towards the whale, and the
harpooner throws his sharp weapon with all his strength into the whale's
flank. Almost before the harpoon has struck the boat is backed swiftly.
Wild with pain, the whale may strike the boat from above with his
powerful horizontal caudal fin and crush it at a blow, or he may dive
below the boat and upset it, but usually he thinks only of making his
escape. He makes for the depths in fright, and the harpoon line runs
out, the strands producing a singing sound. Great care is necessary, for
if the line curls round a man's leg he is carried overboard and is lost.
The whale dives at once to a depth of a couple of hundred fathoms. There
it is dark and quiet, and he remains there half an hour or an hour, till
at length he is obliged to come up to breathe. The lie of the line in
the water shows approximately where he will come up again, and another
boat rows to the spot. As soon as he appears above the surface a second
harpoon whistles through the air.

The whale is now too breathless to dive. He swims along the surface and
lashes the waves with his tail to free himself from his tormentors. He
speeds along at a desperate pace, dashing the waves into spray around
him and drawing the boats after him. The crews have hauled in the lines,
and the boats are quite close to the whale, but they must be ready to
pay out the lines if the whale dives. The boats' prows are tilted high
up into the air and the water streams off them. They shoot forward like
mad things through the foaming sea, whether it be day or night, and
pitch up and down over the crests of the waves. With stretched muscles,
clenched teeth, and glaring eyes the whale-hunters follow the movements
of the whale and the boat.

They notice that the pace slackens. The whale begins to tire, and at
last is quite exhausted. Its movements become irregular, it stops and
throws itself about so that the water spurts up round it. Then a boat
rows up, and a long spear is thrust in three feet deep towards the
animal's heart, and perhaps an explosive b