In which a Great Hunt is Described, a War Expedition Frustrated, and a Hero Ennobled.  
Now, in a fit of unwise ambition, Anders the interpreter resolved to signalise himself, and display his valour on the occasion of this hunt. He borrowed a kayak of one of the natives, and went as an independent hunter. Leo, being quite able to row his boat alone, with Oblooria to steer, did not object.
 
The whale which had been selected was a thorough-going Arctic monster of the largest size, nearly a hundred feet long, which, while on his passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific through Behring Straits, had paused for a nap off the isles of Flatland.
 
The fleet of kayaks converged towards the fish like a flock of locusts. Despite his utmost efforts, Leo could not do more than keep up in rear of the hunters, for the sharp shuttle-like kayaks shot like arrows over the smooth sea, while his clumsier boat required greater force to propel it.
 
In a few minutes those Eskimos who were best paddlers crept ahead of the rest. Grabantak and his son took the lead, whether because of right or because of superior strength it was hard to say. Anders, who was a powerful fellow, and an expert canoeman, kept close alongside of them. Not content with this, he attempted to pass them; but they saw his intention, put on what sporting men call a “spurt,” and in a few seconds left him several yards behind.
 
On nearing their victim, Grabantak and Koyatuk checked their speed and got their spears ready. A few minutes later and a dozen of the followers were up and prepared to act, but they all held back—all except the excitable Anders—while the chief and his son glided cautiously towards the fish, one on either side. Suddenly each grasped a spear and drove it with all the force of both arms deep into the whale’s flesh. It was a rude awaking! Of course the fish dived instantly. In doing so it flung its tail on high with a superb sweep, sending tons of water, and the impatient Anders, into the air.
 
The interpreter came down in a cataract of spray, with his kayak doubled up but himself uninjured, while the Eskimos greeted the event with a shout of alarm. This changed into laughter when it was found that the ambitious man was none the worse for his toss; and the women in one of the oomiak; paddling quickly up, hauled the drenched and crestfallen man out of the sea. They also picked up his spear with the sealskin buoy attached. Giving him the place of honour in the bow, they put the spear in his hand, and bade him keep up heart and do better next time.
 
Meanwhile the whale, having got over its first surprise, and feeling the two large sealskin-floats a somewhat heavy as well as unusual drag, soon came again to the surface, not far from the spot where Leo lay on his oars, an amused as well as interested spectator of the scene.
 
“Ho!” shrieked Oblooria, whose eager little heart was easily excited. She pointed to the fish, and gazed at Leo with blazing eyes.
 
You may be sure our hero did not lose time. The india-rubber boat leaped over the water as if it had suddenly been endowed with life. The smart little woman carefully arranged the spear and buoy ready to hand. Several of the kayaks which chanced to be nearest to the whale rushed towards it like sword-fish; but they had no chance, Leo being so near. He did not check his speed on reaching the fish, but allowed the boat to run tilt on its back. The smooth india-rubber glided up on the slippery surface till more than half its length was on the creature’s back. It was thus checked without a shock—probably unfelt by the whale.
 
Leo seized the spear, leaped up, and, with both hands, drove it deep into the flesh, just as the chief and his son had done. The force with which he drove it was so great that it thrust the boat back into the water. This was fortunate, for it enabled them narrowly to escape the vortex that was instantly made by the diving of the now enraged monster; a few back-strokes of the oars took them out of the sea of foam left behind.
 
The masterly manner in which this was done called forth shouts of admiration from the entire fleet, and it greatly surprised Leo himself, for it was the first time he had attempted to use the harpoon.
 
“It must have been chance,” he muttered to himself as he again lay on his oars awaiting the whale’s reappearance, “a sort of happy accident. I feel convinced I could not do it so well a second time.”
 
The fish took a longer dive on this occasion, and when he retained to the surface for another breath of air, was at a considerable distance from all parts of the fleet. The instant he was seen, however, every paddle flashed into the sea, and the kayaks darted away in pursuit. They soon came up with their victim, and another spear, with its accompanying sealskin buoy, was fixed in its side. Down it went a third time, and reappeared in quite an opposite direction from that in which it had been looked for.
 
This uncertainty in the movements of the whale was a matter of small moment to the occupiers of the light kayaks, but it told rather heavily on Leo in his clumsier boat. He therefore resolved to paddle gently about, take things easy, watch the progress of the chase, and trust to the chapter of accidents giving him another chance.
 
“You see, Oblooria,” he said in the Eskimo tongue, which he was picking up rapidly, “it’s of no use my pulling wildly about in all directions, blowing myself for nothing; so we’ll just hang off-and-on here and watch them.”
 
As this remark called for no direct reply, Oblooria merely smiled—indeed she more than smiled—but said nothing. It is just possible that Leo’s rendering of the phrase “off-and-on” into Eskimo may have sounded ridiculous.
 
However this may be, the two sat there for some time, absorbed and silent spectators of the chase.
 
“How long will they take to kill it?” asked Leo when he saw Grabantak thrust somewhere about the thirty-fifth spear into the victim.
 
“All day,” answered Oblooria.
 
“All day!” repeated Leo in surprise.
 
“If they could lance him far in,” said the girl, “he would die soon, but his flesh is thick and his life is deep down.”
 
Leo relapsed into silence. The idea of remaining a mere spectator all day was distasteful to his active mind and body. He had almost made up his mind to ask one of the natives to lend him a kayak and change places, when a puff of wind sent a few cats-paws over the hitherto glassy sea.
 
He looked quickly in the direction whence it came, and observed a blue line on the horizon. It was a coming breeze. Ere long it touched them, blowing gently, indeed, but steadily. A glance upwards showed that it was steadier and stronger in the upper regions, and blew towards the south-east, in which direction the chase was being prosecuted with unflagging activity.
 
“If there was only enough,” muttered Leo, “to take the kite up, I’d soon be alongside of the whale; come, I’ll try. Lend a hand, Oblooria.”
 
The Eskimo girl had, during her voyage to Flatland, become so well acquainted with the operation of extending and setting up the kite, that she was able to lend effective assistance. In less than ten minutes it was expanded, and although Leo was nearly pulled into the water before he got fair hold of the regulator, while Oblooria was thrown down by an eccentric whisk of the tail, they managed at last to get it fairly over their heads, and soon sent it shooting upwards into the stronger air current above. Of course they began to rush over the sea at a pace that would have quickly left the best kayak in the fleet far astern, but Leo did not wish to act precipitately. He ............