Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 3Sylvester, Charles Herbert
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Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 3
Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Children's literature; Literature -- Collections
Five days passed, but Fritz still remained absent. I could not conceal
my anxiety, and at length determined to follow him. All were delighted
at the proposal, and even the mother, when she heard that we were to
sail in the pinnace, agreed to accompany us.
The boat was stored, and on a bright morning, with a favorable breeze,
we five, with the dogs, stepped aboard, and ran for Cape Minster.
Our beautiful little yacht bounded over the water gaily, and the
bright sunshine and delicious sea breeze put us all in the highest
spirits. The entrance of the archway was in sight, and thither I was
directing the boat's course. Suddenly, right ahead, I saw a dark and
shadowy mass just below the surface of the water. "A sunken rock!" I
thought to myself, "and yet it is strange that I never before noticed
it." I put down the helm in a moment, but a catastrophe seemed
inevitable.
We surged ahead! A slight shock, and all was over! The danger was
passed!
I glanced astern, to look again at the dangerous spot; but the rock
was gone, and, where but a moment before I had distinctly seen its
great green shadow, I could now see nothing. Before we had recovered
from our amazement, a shout from Jack surprised me.
"There is another," he exclaimed, "to starboard, father!"
Sure enough, there lay, apparently, another sunken rock.
"The rock is moving!" shouted Franz; and a great black body emerged
from the sea, while from the upper extremity rushed a column of water,
which, with a mighty noise, rose upward and then fell like rain all
around. The mystery was explained; for, as the great beast emerged yet
further from the water, I recognized, from its enormous size and great
length of head, the cachalot whale.
The monster was apparently enraged at the way we had scratched his
back; for, retreating to a short distance, he evidently meditated a
rush upon us. Fearful stories occurred to me of the savage temper of
this whale, how he has been known to destroy boat after boat, and even
ships, and with a feeling of desperation I sprang to one of the guns.
Jack leaped to the other, and almost simultaneously we fired. Both
shots apparently took effect; for the whale, after lashing the water
violently for a few seconds, plunged beneath the surface, and
disappeared. We kept a sharp lookout for him, for I was unwilling to
lose such a valuable prize, and, reloading, stood toward the shore, in
which direction he was apparently making. Presently we again sighted
him in shallow water, lashing fearfully with his tail, and dyeing the
waves around him with blood. Approaching the infuriated animal as
nearly as I dared, we again fired.
The struggles of the whale seemed for a few moments to become even
more frantic, and then, with a quiver from head to tail, he lay
motionless--dead!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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