island of ice floating about not far from them. It was their only
chance of escape, and the boys gave way with a will. But pull as they
would their enemy was faster than they. Just as the nose of their boat
scraped the floe the great "killer" charged.

Frank had just time to spring onto the floe and drag Harry after him
when the monster's head rammed the boat, splitting it to kindling wood
with a terrible crackling sound. The stout timbers might as well have
been a matchbox, so far as resistance to the terrific onslaught was
concerned.

Billy jumped just as the boat collapsed under him, and gained the
floe. But where was the professor?

For an instant the terrible thought that he had perished flashed
across the boys' minds, but just then a cry made them look round, and
they saw the unfortunate scientist, blue with cold and dripping with
icy water, come clambering over the other side of the little floe on
which they stood. He had been hurled out of the boat when the whale
charged and cast into the water. His teeth were chattering so that he
could hardly speak, but he still had his bucket, and insisted on
examining it to see if any creatures had been caught in it when he
took his involuntary plunge.

The whale, after its charge and the terrific bump with which it struck
the boat, seemed to be stunned and lay quietly on the water a few feet
from the floe, from which it had rebounded.

"I'll bet he's got a headache," exclaimed Billy.