R. M. Ballantyne

R. M. Ballantyne

Summary

Portrait of R. M. Ballantyne R. M. Ballantyne Fighting the Whales

Whales appeared in great numbers around us. The old cry of “There she blows!” ran out frequently from the mast-head, and the answering cry from the captain, “Where away?” was followed by the “Stand by to lower!—lower away.” Then came the chase, with all its dangers and excitement—the driving of the harpoon, the sudden rush of the struck fish, the smoke and sparks of fire from the logger-head, the plunging of the lance, the spouting blood, the “flurry” at the end, and the wild cheer as we beheld our prize floating calmly on the sea.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of R. M. Ballantyne R. M. Ballantyne Fighting the Whales

Sending two thick spouts of frothy water out of his blow-holes forty feet into the air with tremendous noise, he fell flat upon the sea with a clap like thunder, tossed his flukes, or tail, high into the air, and disappeared.
I was so amazed at this sight that I could not speak. I could only stare at the place where the huge monster had gone down.
“Stand by to lower,” shouted the captain.
“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the men, leaping to their appointed stations; for every man in a whale-ship has his post of duty appointed to him, and knows what to do when an order is given.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of R. M. Ballantyne R. M. Ballantyne Fighting the Whales

Sometimes, when I sit in the chimney-corner of a winter evening, smoking my pipe with my old messmate Tom Lokins, I stare into the fire and think of the days gone by till I forget where I am, and go on thinking so hard that the flames seem to turn into melting fires, and the bars of the grate into dead fish, and the smoke into sails and rigging, and I go to work cutting up the blubber and stirring the oil-pots, or pulling the bow-oar and driving the harpoon at such a rate that I can’t help giving a shout, which causes Tom to start and cry:—
“Hallo! Bob,” (my name is Bob Ledbury, you see) .
Source: Gutenberg

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