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Updated: July 31, 2024
Its upper jaw and head was covered with lumps and scars of old wounds. Along the flank was a half-healed, jagged gash, too. "That old boy's collided with something," grumbled Tom Anderly in my ear. "I believe he's a rogue."
"Hi, lad!" cried Tom Anderly, when I looked over the rail, "now you've got a taste of real whaler's souse everything you put in your potato-trap for the rest of the v'y'ge will be flavored with whale-oil."
Between Tom Anderly and Ben Gibson I learned a lot about whaling statistics famous voyages, wonderful accidents to whaling crews "lucky strikes," and the like. And these facts, both curious and exciting, I stowed away in my mind for future reference.
The other close friend that I made aboard the Scarboro during the first few days of the voyage, was old Tom Anderly. He was the bewhiskered old barnacle who had welcomed the possibility of getting oil in the bark's tanks from the dead whale, when I had first come aboard.
Spectre though the man was will-o'-the-wisp as he seemed I desired above all else to see and speak with this man whom Tom Anderly called "Carver" and Captain Tugg knew as "Professor Vose." If my father, Dr. Webb, was alive he would be a man with a mysterious past! I wanted to come face to face with this man whom Tugg said was so much like me.
To attack them is far more perilous than to attack a herd of their normal fellows. This old bull whale, however, had not deserted the society of his fellows; but he proved to be as ugly a customer as we could have found in all that school of three hundred or more sperms! "He looks bad to me," whispered Tom Anderly. "He's a fighter.
Our canvas filled and the sloop got a bone in her teeth and walked away with it just as prettily as ever she had sailed in Bolderhead Harbor. "She's a beauty boat, lad," growled old Tom Anderly. "And she's taking us out o' range o' them carcasses Whew! they sartainly do begin to stink. I don't begredge the boys their job of cutting them whales up when they git at it."
We were snatched after the whale at racing speed and saw the fellows aboard hanging over the rail grinning at us like spectators at a horse race. "Them sculpins wouldn't grin so broad if the critter had bumped the Scarboro," declared Tom Anderly. The beast lay quiet for a bit and we pulled up on him. Before Gibson could get him with the lance gun again, he sounded.
I s'pose he might never have told me his real name," said Tugg. The whole story took hold of me as it had when Tom Anderly told me of the man that had been picked up by the coaster, Sally Smith, off Bolderhead Neck some fourteen or fifteen years before. Tom had said nothing about the man looking like me; but of course, Tom didn't know the man long only until the coaster reached New York City.
"He's going to bunt the old hooker." "That's what he's up to," agreed Tom Anderly; "he's after revenge. And if he hits the Scarboro right, we're likely to have a nice time rowing ashore, boys you can take my word for that!" That old bull was sure a fighting whale.
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