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Updated: June 5, 2025
Thas whale bad un. I show him." He went to Kreps. "I tell you, dam Dutchman," he says, meaning to be soothing and persuasive. "I tell you, we cutta bamboo, harpoon whale. Donnerblissen! Easy!" "Du animal!" says Kreps. "Mitout perception, mitout soul, mitout delicate!" "Oh!" says Kamelillo; "girl whale. All right, dam Dutchman, me fren. You break jam. Letta go."
But when we came to the piazza, where the bodyguard squatted, what was left of it, with reddened spears, ghastly to make you sick, Kamelillo grunted again and said, "He gone die," and passed in. The guard broke out wailing and chanting, and rocked to and fro, but only a moment, after which they held their spears up stiff, as the king had taught them, and sat still.
I vill go mit Kamelillo, my friend." Kamelillo spent the morning making a bamboo raft, and in the afternoon they put out. Liebchen was over by the harbour entrance, lying low in the water and maybe asleep. Kamelillo had a bamboo pole in his hand to pole the raft with, but he had shod it with his harpoon head. They drew alongside, and Kreps was facing front, with his back to Kamelillo.
Kamelillo disliked Veronica on account of her fussiness, and because she had lit on him and scratched him when he wanted to be let alone. He wanted to make Veronica into poi, but I didn't think there was any real nourishment in her; and he wanted to break the log jam and let the whale out, but I told him it was Kreps' jam. "Ain' harbour belong him," said Kamelillo. "Ain' him slap harbour on me.
He was making a kind of paste of ground roots, called "poi," which wasn't bad, if you rolled a fish in it, and baked it on the coals, and thought about something else. But at that time Liebchen came round the north shore in a roar of foam, bringing her flukes down now and then with a slap to make the harbour ache, and she slapped near a barrel of water over Kamelillo and his fire and his poi.
But there were two harpoons, more than the bamboo, sticking in her very deep, and the lines were hitched to a longboat, the longboat coming inshore now full of men. Veronica squatting on the thwart of the same, comfortable and dignified. Kamelillo says, "Whale ain't got sense, thas whale!" And Kreps says, "Ach, Liebchen!" She struck her last flurry, and filled the air with spray.
He lifted his oar to slap the water, and Kamelillo drew off, and cast the harpoon. Liebchen, she came out of her maiden fancies. She acted plain whale. That's a way of acting which calls for respect, but it's not romantic. She slapped the bamboo raft, and there was no such thing. She swallowed the harbour and spit it out. She whooped and danced and teetered. She let out all her primeval feelings.
Kamelillo says: "Why for? She not my whale. You keep her out a my suppa. Why for?" Kreps was disgusted because Kamelillo didn't like Liebchen. He went and stood on the bank, in the interest of science, and studied the habits of the cetacean, but he got no results. She had no habits, to speak uprightly, only notions. They weren't any use to science.
"How she get up them high?" Kamelillo says. "No! Maybe dam hen fly up. Not me. No!" We coasted by the east side a little way and came to a place where the water was quiet and black in a slip of maybe a hundred feet in width, where the bluff had broken in two. The channel appeared to curve, so that you could only see a little way up. We dropped sail and pulled through.
But Kreps took off his spectacles and wiped them, and he says: "Ach, Liebchen!" he says. "She iss too much." "Thas whale!" says Kamelillo. "Thas all right!" "Liebchen iss too much of her," says Kreps very dignified, and stalked to the camp. "Thas whale!" says Kamelillo. "Thas all right!" He chopped the jam that afternoon, and it floated out in the night or early morning with the ebb.
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