of the gig were beginning to
breathe freely; when they perceived the largest of the lot--the old
bull--astern of the rest and coming right towards them. His head, with
several fathoms of his back, protruded above the surface, which at
intervals he "fluked" with his tail,--as if giving a signal to those
preceding him, either to direct their onward course, or warn them of
some threatened danger.

He had a vicious look about him,--notwithstanding his patriarchal
appearance,--and the ex-whalesman uttered an exclamation of warning as
he approached.

The utterance was merely mechanical, since nothing could be done to ward
off the threatened encounter.

Nothing was done. There was no time to act, nor even to think. Almost
on the same instant in which the warning cry was heard the whale was
upon them. He who had uttered it, along with his companions, felt
themselves suddenly projected into the air, as if they had been tossed
from a catapult, and their next sensation was that of taking "a
tremendous header" into the depths of the fathomless ocean!

All four soon came to the surface again; and the two who had best
retained their senses,--the sailor and Snowball,--looked around for the
gig. There was no gig in sight, nor boat of any kind! Only some
floating fragments; among which could be distinguished a cask or two,
with a scattering of loose boards, oars, handspikes, and articles of
apparel. Among these were struggling two youthful forms,--recognisable
as little William and Lilly Lalee.

A quick transformation took place in the tableau.

A cry arose, "Back to the _Catamaran_!" and in a score of seconds the
boy-sailor was swimming alongside the A.B. for the raft; while the
Coromantee, with Lilly Lalee hoisted upon his left shoulder, was
cleaving the water in the same direction.

Another minute and all four were aboard the embarkation they had so
lately abandoned,--once more saved from the perils of the deep!

CHAPTER NINETY FIVE.

WORSE OFF THAN EVER.

There was no mystery about the incident that had occurred. It had
scarce created surprise; for the moment that the old whalesman felt the
shock, he knew what had caused it, as well as if he had been a simple
spectator.

The others, warned by him that danger might be expected in the passage
of the whales--though then unapprised of its exact nature--were fully
aware of it now. It had come and passed,--at least, after mounting once
more upon the raft, they