h above his head, and darted it
deep into its fat side just behind the left fin, and next moment the
boat ran aground on the whale's back.

"Stern all, for your lives!" roared the captain, who, before his order
was obeyed, managed to give the creature two deep wounds with his lance.
The lance has no barbs to its point, and is used only for wounding
after the harpoon is fixed.

The boat was backed off at once, but it had scarcely got a few yards
away when the astonished fish whirled its huge body half out of the
water, and, coming down with a tremendous clap, made off like lightning.

The line was passed round a strong piece of wood called the
"logger-head," and, in running out, it began to smoke, and nearly set
the wood on fire. Indeed, it would have done so, if a man had not kept
constantly pouring water upon it. It was needful to be very cautious in
managing the line, for the duty is attended with great danger. If any
hitch should take place, the line is apt to catch the boat and drag it
down bodily under the waves. Sometimes a coil of it gets round a leg or
an arm of the man who attends to it, in which case his destruction is
almost certain. Many a poor fellow has lost his life in this way.

The order was now given to "hold on line." This was done, and in a
moment our boat was cleaving the blue water like an arrow, while the
white foam curled from her bows. I thought every moment we should be
dragged under; but whenever this seemed likely to happen, the line was
let run a bit, and the strain eased. At last the fish grew tired of
dragging us, the line ceased to run out, and Tom hauled in the slack,
which another man coiled away in its tub. Presently the fish rose to
the surface, a short distance off our weather-bow.

"Give way, boys! spring your oars," cried the captain; "another touch or
two with the lance, and that fish is ours."

The boat shot ahead, and we were about to dart a second harpoon into the
whale's side, when it took to "sounding,"--which means, that it went
straight down, head foremost, into the depths of the sea. At that
moment Tom Lokins uttered a cry of mingled anger and disappointment. We
all turned round and saw our shipmate standing with the slack line in
his hand, and such an expression on his weather-beaten face, that I
could scarce help laughing. The harpoon had not been well fixed; it had
lost its hold, and the fish was now free!

"Gone!" exclaimed the captain, with a groan.