However foolhardy the proposition, the boys were determined, and then they were in the majority, so they overruled the captain. A chance like that was not to be permitted to slip. They had hunted bears, mountain lions, Indians, outlaws, ducks and much other game, but never had whales come within range before, and at least they were going to try to make their preliminary acquaintance.

“Well, boys, as I ain’t responsible to your parents, yer might jest as well end yer lives by the flap of a whale’s tail as go on to be hung, because that, in my opinion, will come to you sooner or later, being so reckless.” But down in his heart the old fellow was pleased with their enterprise and pluck.

“Better come along and take care of us, Captain,” urged Jim, “so these fellows won’t bite us.”

“All the fishing I’ll ever do now will be for minnows over the rail,” replied the captain. “My whaling days are over.”

“The only whaling I know about,” remarked Jo, “was what I used to get in school.”

“You would get some more of the same kind now,” remarked Jim briefly, “if I could spare the time.”

“Now, you have to spare the rod,” replied the irrepressible and irresponsible Jo. He ducked quickly as Jim hit at him, but there was no time for further discipline or discussion, so Jo escaped the merited punishment that was due him.

The boat was lowered, and the harpoon with its apparently endless coil of rope, was made ready. All this was done under the careful instruction of Captain Kerns, who knew the business of whaling thoroughly, and was determined that the venturesome boys should not be entirely helpless through ignorance. As for the harpoon, that was the property originally of the former owner of the Sea Eagle, Captain Bill Broom, of interesting memory. What pleasure he would have felt to see the Frontier Boys start out on their perilous expedition, sure that the whales would wreak vengeance upon the daring boys who had finally given him such a bitter defeat!

Everything was now ready, and the selected crew was prepared to pull away from the ship. They were delaying only for a few last words and instructions. Nor was the crew of the boat made up exactly as the reader might imagine, for Tom was left aboard and Jeems Howell was taken in his place.

There were two reasons for this. In the first place, Jeems, though lanky and thin, was really very strong and could do better work at the oars than Tom; the other reason had to do with an incident that happened in the attack the boys had made on a sand cone in the crater of Haleakala, the said cone being defended by a number of savages.

Tom had at that time failed to protect Jim when he was attacking the savages, due to nervousness, and Jeems had to come to the rescue. I do not know whether he appreciated the distinction of being chosen on this particular occasion or not, but he had to accept the honor thus thrust upon him.

“Good-bye, Tom,” cried Jim; “I’ll leave you my blessing, if the whale takes a chaw out of us.”

“I’d rather you would leave me something valuable like your gold watch,” replied the mercenary Tom.

“I’ll make you my sole heir, Tommy,” cried Jo. “I’ve got some debts back home that you can have.” Then the boat pulled away from the ship.

“Don’t forget, lads,” roared the captain in farewell, “that whales ain’t fools because they are big. Look out for ’em.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” came back the answer clear and strong.

“Good luck,” yelled the captain, and the boys waved their hands in reply.

But no sooner had they pulled away than he got the other boat ready to launch in case it should be needed and a couple of life preservers were gotten ready, with a line attached, for no one knew better than the old sailor the dangerous undertaking on which the boys had launched.

Meanwhile they were making good time over the slow, lazy swell towards the whales that could be seen floating easily along two miles distant. Jo was pulling the stroke oars, and Jeems was pulling the other pair directly behind him. Jo was a fair oarsman and Jeems was capable of keeping up with him.

They discovered that there was an excitement and interest in rowing on the ocean that was not present in the same form of exercise on a lake or river, for there was a vitality, breadth and power about the sea that was lacking in the others. I tell you, they felt rather small and puny as they pulled the boat steadily over the swells that played gently with their craft, as though the old ocean was in a lazy playful mood, just like a tiger when it rolls sinuously upon its back fondling some object.

Jim was in the bow of the boat, ready to use the harpoon when the time should come. Once or twice he stood up in the bow and plunged it down into the blue bosom of a rounded wave with all his force, the water slashing white from the track of the tearing weapon.

“Better save your strength,” warned Juarez, who was at the steering oar.

“Just getting warmed up, lad,” said Jim.

“Think you can fetch him, Jim?” inquired Jo anxiously.

“Sure,” replied his older brother confidently. “I reckon a whale is no tougher than a grizzly, and we’ve got them.”

“Not with a harpoon,” remarked Jeems Howell. “You won’t be more than able to tickle the leviathan with that weapon.”

But Jim scoffed at his prophecy, for there was this about James that helped him in a crisis like the present, that he had perfect confidence in himself which had been fortified by several narrow escapes. But here was an occasion where his good luck in danger was apt to be thoroughly tried out.

“Whales are something like elephants, it seems to me,” said Jeems Howell. “They are big, dangerous and very intelligent.”

“The elephant beats the whale when it comes to ears,” remarked Juarez.

“But makes it up with his tail,” laughed Jeems.

“Now, boys,” warned Jim, “be careful; no more talking. We will soon be within range.”

A strained, intense silence settled over the boat. All was expectation and suppressed excitement. I do not suppose that the gentle reader can realize the feeling of the boys at this moment, as he has probably never stalked a whale in the open ocean, but perhaps he can imagine something of what they felt.

One thing favored the young whale hunters, and that was the fact that the whales were taking things very softly and slowly, their big bodies barely moving through the water. They seemed to be enjoying the calm of the clear morning, and were taking an ocean stroll as it were.

The bull, some sixty feet in length, was in the lead; at some little distance to the east was the cow and a young whale near her side. It was a wonderful sight to see the big black fellow forging slowly in advance, his head a long, square promontory rising from the water, and his body a half-submerged island.

But what power and strength was there in that great body and what temerity it was for the boys to tackle him; they should have been glad to let him go on his way unmolested, if he would do the same for them. But the boys had no such thought. Under the silent direction of Jim’s hand the boat made a circle and swept around back of the great mammal coming up on the far side. As the chase came near its end the pulses of the boys quickened. There was a wonderful excitement in closing in with this king of all the oceans.

Jim crouched in the bow, the harpoon clutched in his right hand. Now the boat was within fifty feet of the whale, who was evidently not yet aware of their near proximity, as he could not see anything approaching along the side. It was indeed a thrilling moment. Jim rose to his full height in the bow, with the harpoon poised above his shoulder, a powerful and athletic figure.

The boat was now alongside the monster, and then with all his strength of body, arm and shoulder, he plunged the harpoon down deep into the great black body, following the instructions of the captain as near as he could; he was but an amateur, after all, and he missed a vital spot.

“Back up, boys!” he yelled.

Down dug the poised oars into the water, and the boat tried frantically to get out of the deadly circumference of the wounded whale’s wrath. Instead of sounding down, as he would have done if vitally wounded, he thrashed and pounded the ocean into foam. There was no escape for the boat apparently.

With an exclamation of horror, Captain Kerns turned his ship’s prow straight for the scene of the disaster, for he saw what had happened. It was enough to startle even a man so hardened to sights of danger as the captain. As for Tom, when he saw the beginning of the accident, he pressed his hand close against his eyes to shut out what promised to be terrible destruction for his two brothers, and his two tried comrades.

Pete was at the wheel, his old weathered face pale and intent upon the scene not so distant. He had grown fond of the boys and could scarcely bear to look upon their overwhelming danger.