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Or, at least knows something about him," I added, as I remembered how very little Tom Anderly really knew about the man who had been picked up in the fog off Bolderhead Neck. "I'd like to see that feller," said Tugg. "And I'd like mightily to see your Professor," said I. Tugg looked at me thoughtfully. "Got a job?" he asked. "I'm not sure that I shall wait for the Scarboro," I replied.
Far out at the end of two miles of line the whale lashed about, and churned the sea, and blew blasts of vapor into the air. Then old Tom Anderly cried that it was spouting blood and we knew the end was near. But the captain gave the whale half an hour in which to die before ordering the line wound inboard. The rest of the school had gone on steadily into the south and was still several miles away.
"Was that letter addressed to Tom Anderly, at the office of Radnor & Blunt, in New York a firm of shipping merchants?" "You win!" ejaculated Captain Tugg. "I memorized that address. Have to admit I've always been cur'ous about the Professor. You know him?" "No, sir," I said. "But I believe there's a man here in town who does.
We couldn't find the harpoon Tom Anderly had thrown into it! The line was found jammed to the back of the whale's mouth and wound round its body whales will roll over and over when struck just as an old salmon will when hooked. That whale was drowned.
When we had got the baleen inboard, however, the more disagreeable work of "flensing" began. A number of the men, with old Tom Anderly at their head, got upon the whale in spiked shoes and with blubber spades attacked the main carcass of the beast.
Anyhow, you'll hit land if you keep on going. There are fine hospitals at Buenos Ayres. I'd feel more as though I'd done my duty by Ben if I got him there. I'll find you a man to go along. Two of you can work that sloop prettily." "Aye, aye, sir," I agreed. He bustled away and brought back old Tom Anderly. I couldn't have wished for anybody else.
It leaped after the bomb exploded and again we were almost overturned. "Cut loose! Let the beast go!" cried some of the men. But Tom Anderly would not lift the boat hatchet. To cut a whale free, unless it becomes absolutely necessary, is "against the religion" of any old whaler. As for myself, I was bending over the injured second mate, trying to revive him.
Then a bunch of the old Scarboro's fo'castle hands were about me. Tom Anderly pushed through the group and grabbed my hand. "Here ye be, ye blamed young scamp!" he roared. "Leavin' Mr. Gibson an' me in the lurch in Buenos Ayres." "And ye missed some of the greatest whalin' ye ever see," burst in the stroke oar of our old boat. "We got smashed up complete once and lost boat and every bit of gear.
To be adventuring about the world "on the loose" as old Tom Anderly called it, had seemed a mighty fine thing. But just at that moment, with the schooner shaking on the shoal, the fires flaring on the beach, and the savages dancing and yelling at us, I would have given a good deal to have been where I could call a policeman! But Adoniram Tugg showed no particular fear.
Anderly was a boat-steerer, an old sea dog who had sailed oft and again with the skipper, and who had lanced more whales than any other half dozen men aboard. Being in old Tom's watch I grew soon familiar with him; and from the beginning I saw that the old seaman took more than a common interest in me. The old man was full of stories of whale fishing and other experiences at sea.
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