satisfied with readin' about whalin' in those books of yours."

"Well, it got me the chance to see the fun!" responded Colin.

"That wouldn't have been enough to start this business a-goin' if it hadn't been that the Gull was an old whalin'-ship before they put steam into her. The little bits of whalin'-steamers they build now only carry a little pram or two, nothin' like this boat you're in now. The Gull's one of the old-timers."

"She hails from New Bedford, doesn't she?"

"She took the Indian Ocean whalin' in the sixties an' came round the Horn every season in the seventies," Hank replied; "an' there's not

many of her build left. Easy with that oar, Gloomy," he added, speaking to the melancholy sailor, who was splashing a good deal in his stroke, "an' avast talkin', all."

Swiftly, but with oars dipping almost noiselessly, the boat slipped up to where the two whales were floating whose spouts had been seen from the ship. The sea was tinged with pink from the masses of shrimp-food which had attracted the whales, and the great creatures were feeding quietly. The surface was not rough, but there was a long, slow roll which tossed the boat about like a cork. Presently Hank, who was in the stern, held up one hand.

"Hold your starboard oars," he said quietly; "we'll back up to this largest one."

This near approach to the whales was too much for Gloomy's nerves. Instead of merely holding his long sweep steady in the water so that the stroke of the port oars would bring the boat around, he tried to make a long backward drive. As he reached back, the boat mounted sidewise on a swell, leaving Gloomy clawing at the air with his oar; then, the boat as suddenly swooped down with a rush, burying the oar almost to the row-locks; it caught Gloomy under the chin and all

but knocked him overboard. The splash and the shout distracted Hank's attention for a second, and when he looked round a swirl of water was all that remained to show where the whales had been.

"I told you what it would be!" said Gloomy, picking himself up and speaking in an injured tone, as though he blamed everybody else for his own carelessness.

His protests, however, were silenced by a steady stream of descriptive epithet from Hank. The old gunner, without even raising his voice, withered any possible reply on the part of the clumsy sailor, whose inexpertness had caused their failure to get the whale.

"They were only humpbacks, however," added Hank, after Gloomy had been reduced to silence. Indeed, so shamefaced was the luckless sailor, that when he saw a spout a minute or two later he only pointed with his finger, without saying a word.

Noticing the gesture, Colin turned and saw with amazement a tall jet of vapor that had spouted from a whale close by. He looked at Hank expectantly, hoping to hear him spur the crew to a new venture, but the old whaler looked grave.

"Finback?" the boy queried.

"Gray whale, I reckon," answered the gunner.

"Devil-whale? Oh, Hank!" the boy cried, his eyes shining with excitement. "I hope it is!"

"That shows how little you know," the other replied.

"Are you going to harpoon him?"

Hank looked at the boy, smiling slightly at his utter fearlessness.

"I wish you were aboard the ship," he said, "an' I would. But I reckon it's wiser to keep out of trouble."

"But I don't want to be on the Gull," Colin protested; "at least not when there's anything going on out here. And," he added craftily, "I didn't think you were really afraid!"

"Wa'al," the old whaler said, his jaw setting firmly, "I don't want anybody to think I'm backin' down, just because I'm in a boat again. But I tell you straight, I don't like it. Gloomy," he continued, "an' the rest of you, stand by your oars. That's a gray whale an' I'm goin' after him."

"How do you know it's a California whale, Hank?" asked the boy, as they waited for the creature to reappear.

"By the spout," was the prompt reply. "It's

not as high an' thin as a finback's, it's not large enough for the low, bushy spout of a humpback, an' it goes straight up instead of at a forward angle so it can't be a sperm. Must be a gray whale, can't be anythin' else."

For a few minutes the men rested on their oars, and Colin grew restless.

"Why doesn't he come up again?" he said impatiently. "First thing we know he'll be out of sight!"

The old whaler smiled again at the lad's eagerness.

"While the gray is the fastest swimmer of all the whales," he said, "you needn't be afraid that we'll lose sight of him. Most whales swim very slow, not much faster than a man can walk."

"There he is," called another of the sailors, pointing to a spout three or four hundred yards away.

"All right, boys," Hank said, "he's makin' towards the shore."

The long oars bit into the water again and Colin was glad to feel the boat moving, for it rolled fearfully on the long heaving swell. But with six good oars and plenty of muscle behind

them, the little craft was not long in reaching the place where the 'slick' on the water showed that the whale had come up to breathe and then dived again. Acting under the gunner's orders the crew rested on their oars a short distance beyond the place where the whale had sounded. Presently, a couple of hundred yards from the boat, on the starboard side, the whale came up to spout, evidently having turned from the direction in which it had been slowly traveling, and the rowers made for the new objective. This time there was another long wait.

"How long do they stay down, Hank?" asked the boy.

"No reg'lar rule about it," the whaler answered; "sometimes for quite a while, but I reckon ten to fifteen minutes is about the usual. Some of 'em can stay down a long while sulkin' when they've got a harpoon or two in 'em, but I reckon three-quarters of an hour would be about the limit."

Again the boat sped onward, this time without any order from Hank, for all hands had seen the whale not more than fifty yards away, and Hank grasped the shoulder harpoon-gun. But before the boat could reach the whale and turn stern

on so as to give the gunner a good chance for a shot, the whale had 'sounded' or dived.

"Next time," said Hank quietly, and told Scotty, one of the sailors, to clear away the first few coils of the rope in the barrel and make sure that it was free from tangles.

Colin noticed that the three places where the whale had spouted formed a slight arc and that Hank was directing the boat along a projection of this curve, so he was quite ready when a command came to stop rowing. Then, at the whaler's orders, the boat was swung round and the men held their oars ready to back-water.

The place could not have been picked out with greater accuracy if the whaler had known the exact spot where the big cetacean was going to appear. Within thirty feet of the boat the water began to swirl and boil.

"He's right there!" said Colin with a thrill of expectation not wholly devoid of fear.

In obedience to a wave of the old whaler's hand, the boat went astern slowly and fifteen seconds later the great back appeared near the surface and the monster 'blew,' his pent-up breath escaping suddenly when he was still a foot below the surface, and driving up a column of mixed water

and air, the roar sounding like steam from a pipe of large size.

"Stand by the line, Scotty!" shouted Hank, as he raised the clumsy harpoon-gun to his shoulder.

The sailor who had been