"It seems to me," replied Howik, "that the gudgeon suspects something.
It breathes less violently than it did just now!"

"Silence! silence!" repeated Captain Hull.

Five minutes later the whale-boat was at a cable's length from the
jubarte. A cable's length, a measure peculiar to the sea, comprises a
length of one hundred and twenty fathoms, that is to say, two hundred
meters.

The boatswain, standing aft, steered in such a manner as to approach
the left side of the mammal, but avoiding, with the greatest care,
passing within reach of the formidable tail, a single blow of which
would be enough to crush the boat.

At the prow Captain Hull, his legs a little apart to maintain his
equilibrium, held the weapon with which he was going to give the first
blow. They could count on his skill to fix that harpoon in the thick
mass which emerged from the waters.

Near the captain, in a pail, was coiled the first of the five lines,
firmly fastened to the harpoon, and to which they would successively
join the other four if the whale plunged to great depths.

"Are we ready, boys?" murmured Captain Hull.

"Yes," replied Howik, grasping his oar firmly in his large hands.

"Alongside! alongside!"