"Are we keeping right for her?" asked the captain.

"Keep her away a bit; steady!" replied the lookout.

"Steady it is!" answered the man at the wheel.

"Call all hands and get the boats out, Mr. Bolton," said the captain.

"All hands ahoy!" shouted the mate in a tempestuous voice, while the men
rushed to their respective stations.

"Boat-steerers, get your boats ready."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"There go flukes," cried the look-out, as the whale dived and tossed its
flukes--that is, its tail--in the air, not more than a mile on the
lee-bow; "she's heading right for the ship."

"Down with the helm!" roared the captain. "Mr. Bolton, brace up the
mizzen-top-sail! Hoist and swing the boats! Lower away!"

In another moment three boats struck the water, and their respective
crews tumbled tumultuously into them. Fred and Singleton sprang into the
stern-sheets of the captain's boat just as it pushed off, and, in less
than five minutes, the three boats were bounding over the sea in the
direction of the whale like race-horses. Every man did his best, and the
tough oars bent like hoops as each boat's crew strove to outstrip the
others.