The crew were impatiently awaiting orders. The commodore, having attentively observed the animal, called the engineer. He came at once.
“Have you plenty of steam?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the engineer.
“Good. Fire-up; and go a-head full speed.”
Three cheers accompanied this order. The struggle had come. In a few moments after the frigate’s chimneys poured forth their black smoke, and the deck shook with the action of the engines.
The Abraham Lincoln, impelled by her powerful screw, “went for” the strange animal direct. It permitted the frigate to approach to within half a cable’s length, then, disdaining to dive, went on a little, and contented itself by keeping its distance. This manner of pursuit continued for about three-quarters of an hour, without the frigate having gained upon the cetacean. It became evident that if we kept thus we should never reach it.
Commodore Farragut got very angry. “Ned Land!” he cried.
The Canadian approached him.
“Well, Master Land, do you still advise me to launch a boat?”
“No, sir,” replied Ned Land; “for this beast will not let you take him unless he please.”
“What are we to do, then?”
“Keep up the highest possible pressure, and, if you will permit it, I will get under the bowsprit, and if I come within casting distance I will harpoon him.”
“Go, Ned,” replied the commodore. “Go a-head faster,” he cried to the engineer.
