Business was now carried on both day and night, or, more properly speaking, all the time, as there was no night. There was always some one in the crow’s nest. To increase the chances of seeing and capturing whales, the _Seabird_ would drop a boat at about seven A.M., and sail about twenty miles and then drop another boat. Then she would cruise between the two boats. There was little danger, where it was light all the time, of losing a craft. The boats were well provisioned, and the men wore their thickest clothing. On the third day a whale was announced just as the captain gave orders to lower. Our boat and Silva’s engaged in sharp competition. We took water first and got the lead, but the movements of the whale favored the other boat, and Silva’s man put two irons into him. We stood by to help if we were needed, and I eagerly watched the proceedings, for this was the first real live bowhead I had seen struck. He pounded the sea with his terrible flukes and then sounded just like a sperm whale. When the slack was taken in and the big fellow appeared on the surface, we followed Silva’s boat and watched with keen interest the last act in the tragedy. Silva handled the lance well, driving it into the body as if he had a sperm whale to deal with. When the bowhead was dead and the tow-line was attached to him, Lakeum said to me:
“I hope Silva won’t have trouble. You know what so often happens in the case of bowheads?”
“I didn’t know that, Mr. Lakeum. None of our men ever told me.”
“Yes, they sink, just as so many right whales do. That monster there is worth seven thousand dollars, good, and it would be a pity to lose him.”
The words were hardly uttered when Lakeum shouted, “Don’t look right, Silva; settling a little.” There was apprehension, indeed consternation, in the boats. It was true that the whale was settling. When men don’t know what to do, they often shout, and this is what the men in Silva’s boat did, and when the order came to cut the tow-line, they shouted still louder. Then, as the great whale disappeared, the noise subsided, and as both boats pulled for the vessel, Silva was the picture of despair. The captain had witnessed the unfortunate accident from the ship and was inclined to blame Silva.