fiery-looking eyes. He was an immense man, the largest in the ship,
probably, if we except the Scotch second mate Saunders, to whom he was
about equal in all respects--except argument. Like most big men, he was
peaceable and good-humoured.

"Look alive now, lads," said Grim, as the men pulled towards the whale;
"we'll get a chance yet, we shall, if you give way like tigers. Split
your sides, boys--do--that's it. Ah! there she goes right down. Pull
away now, and be ready when she rises."

As he spoke the whale suddenly _sounded_--that is, went perpendicularly
down, as it had done when first struck--and continued to descend until
most of the line in the captain's boat was run out.

"Hoist an oar!" cried Amos Parr, as he saw the coil diminishing. Grim
observed the signal of distress, and encouraged his men to use their
utmost exertions. "Another oar!--another!" shouted Parr, as the whale
continued its headlong descent.

"Stand by to cut the line," said Captain Guy with compressed lips. "No!
hold on, hold on!"

At this moment, having drawn down more than a thousand fathoms of rope,
the whale slackened its speed, and Parr, taking another coil round the
loggerhead, held on until the boat was almost dragged under water. Then
the line became loose, and the slack was hauled in rapidly. Meanwhile
Grim's boat had reached the spot, and the men now lay on their oars at
some distance ahead, ready to pull the instant the whale should show
itself. Up it came, not twenty yards ahead. One short, energetic pull,
and the second boat sent a harpoon deep into it, while Grim sprang to