Jules Verne (9 page)

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.

Captain Hull, an experienced whaler, would leave nothing to chance. The
capture of a jubarte is a difficult thing. No precaution ought to be
neglected. None was in this case.

And, first of all, Captain Hull sailed so as to come up to the whale on
the leeward, so that no noise might disclose the boat's approach.

Howik then steered the whale-boat, following the rather elongated curve
of that reddish shoal, in the midst of which floated the jubarte. They
would thus turn the curve.

The boatswain, set over this work, was a seaman of great coolness, who
inspired Captain Hull with every confidence. He had not to fear either
hesitation or distraction from Howik.

"Attention to the steering, Howik," said Captain Hull. "We are going to
try to surprise the jubarte. We will only show ourselves when we are
near enough to harpoon it."

"That is understood, sir," replied the boatswain.

"I am going to follow the contour of these reddish waters, so as to
keep to the leeward."

"Good!" said Captain Hull. "Boys, as little noise as possible in
rowing."

The oars, carefully muffled with straw, worked silently. The boat,
skilfully steered by the boatswain, had reached the large shoal of
crustaceans. The starboard oars still sank in the green and limpid
water, while those to larboard, raising the reddish liquid, seemed to
rain drops of blood.

"Wine and water!" said one of the sailors.

"Yes," replied Captain Hull, "but water that we cannot drink, and wine
that we cannot swallow. Come, boys, let us not speak any more, and
heave closer!"

The whale-boat, steered by the boatswain, glided noiselessly on the
surface of those half-greased waters, as if it were floating on a bed
of oil.

The jubarte did not budge, and did not seem to have yet perceived the
boat, which described a circle around it.

Captain Hull, in making the circuit, necessarily went farther than the
"Pilgrim," which gradually grew smaller in the distance. This rapidity
with which objects diminish at sea has always an odd effect. It seems
as if we look at them shortened through the large end of a telescope.
This optical illusion evidently takes place because there are no points
of comparison on these large spaces. It was thus with the "Pilgrim,"
which decreased to the eye and seemed already much more distant than
she really was.

Half an hour after leaving her, Captain Hull and his companions found
themselves exactly to the leeward of the whale, so that the latter
occupied an intermediate point between the ship and the boat.

So the moment had come to approach, while making as little noise as
possible. It was not impossible for them to get beside the animal and
harpoon it at good range, before its attention would be attracted.

"Row more slowly, boys," said Captain Hull, in a low voice.

"It seems to me," replied Howik, "that the gudgeon suspects something.
It breathes less violently than it did just now!"

"Silence! silence!" repeated Captain Hull.

Five minutes later the whale-boat was at a cable's length from the
jubarte. A cable's length, a measure peculiar to the sea, comprises a
length of one hundred and twenty fathoms, that is to say, two hundred
meters.

The boatswain, standing aft, steered in such a manner as to approach
the left side of the mammal, but avoiding, with the greatest care,
passing within reach of the formidable tail, a single blow of which
would be enough to crush the boat.

At the prow Captain Hull, his legs a little apart to maintain his
equilibrium, held the weapon with which he was going to give the first
blow. They could count on his skill to fix that harpoon in the thick
mass which emerged from the waters.

Near the captain, in a pail, was coiled the first of the five lines,
firmly fastened to the harpoon, and to which they would successively
join the other four if the whale plunged to great depths.

"Are we ready, boys?" murmured Captain Hull.

"Yes," replied Howik, grasping his oar firmly in his large hands.

"Alongside! alongside!"

The boatswain obeyed the order, and the whale-boat came within less
than ten feet of the animal.

The latter no longer moved, and seemed asleep.

Whales thus surprised while asleep offer an easier prize, and it often
happens that the first blow which is given wounds them mortally.

"This immovableness is quite astonishing!" thought Captain Hull. "The
rascal ought not to be asleep, and nevertheless—there is something
there!"

The boatswain thought the same, and he tried to see the opposite side
of the animal.

But it was not the moment to reflect, but to attack.

Captain Hull, holding his harpoon by the middle of the handle, balanced
it several times, to make sure of good aim, while he examined the
jubarte's side. Then he threw it with all the strength of his arm.

"Back, back!" cried he at once.

And the sailors, pulling together, made the boat recoil rapidly, with
the intention of prudently putting it in safety from the blows of the
cetacean's tail.

But at that moment a cry from the boatswain made them understand why
the whale was so extraordinarily motionless for so long a time on the
surface of the sea.

"A young whale!" said he.

In fact, the jubarte, after having been struck by the harpoon, was
almost entirely overturned on the side, thus discovering a young whale,
which she was in process of suckling.

This circumstance, as Captain Hull well knew, would render the capture
of the jubarte much more difficult. The mother was evidently going to
defend herself with greater fury, as much for herself as to protect her
"little one "—if, indeed, we can apply that epithet to an animal which
did not measure less than twenty feet.

Meanwhile, the jubarte did not rush at the boat, as there was reason to
fear, and there was no necessity, before taking flight, to quickly cut
the line which connected the boat with the harpoon. On the contrary,
and as generally happens, the whale, followed by the young one, dived,
at first in a very oblique line; then rising again with an immense
bound, she commenced to cleave the waters with extreme rapidity.

But before she had made her first plunge, Captain Hull and the
boatswain, both standing, had had time to see her, and consequently to
estimate her at her true value.

This jubarte was, in reality, a whale of the largest size. From the
head to the tail, she measured at least eighty feet. Her skin, of a
yellowish brown, was much varied with numerous spots of a darker brown.

It would indeed be a pity, after an attack so happily begun, to be
under the necessity of abandoning so rich a prey.

The pursuit, or rather the towing, had commenced. The whale-boat, whose
oars had been raised, darted like an arrow while swinging on the tops
of the waves.

Howik kept it steady, notwithstanding those rapid and frightful
oscillations. Captain Hull, his eye on his prey, did not cease making
his eternal refrain:

"Be watchful, Howik, be watchful!"

And they could be sure that the boatswain's vigilance would not be at
fault for an instant.

Meanwhile, as the whale-boat did not fly nearly as fast as the whale,
the line of the harpoon spun out with such rapidity that it was to be
feared that it would take fire in rubbing against the edge of the
whale-boat. So Captain Hull took care to keep it damp, by filling with
water the pail at the bottom of which the line was coiled.

All this time the jubarte did not seem inclined to stop her flight, nor
willing to moderate it. The second line was then lashed to the end of
the first, and it was not long before it was played out with the same
velocity.

At the end of five minutes it was necessary to join on the third line,
which ran off under the water.

The jubarte did not stop. The harpoon had evidently not penetrated into
any vital part of the body. They could even observe, by the increased
obliquity of the line, that the animal, instead of returning to the
surface, was sinking into lower depths.

"The devil!" cried Captain Hull, "but that rascal will use up our five
lines!"

"And lead us to a good distance from the 'Pilgrim,'" replied the
boatswain.

"Nevertheless, she must return to the surface to breathe," replied
Captain Hull. "She is not a fish, and she must have the provision of
air like a common individual."

"She has held her breath to run better," said one of the sailors,
laughing.

In fact, the line was unrolling all the time with equal rapidity.