Stirling  and  Marr,  who  had  remained  as  ship
keepers,  with  the  cook  and  engineers,  watched  the
arena  like  spectators  at  a  battle.  The  Ice  Pilot  had
hastened  to  many  bowheads  and  realized  that  Cush-
ner had  taken  the  proper  direction  and  would  most
likely  intercept  the  whale  upon  its  next  appearance.
A  short  wait  followed,  and  Stirling  fastened  a
small  red  flag  to  a  signal  halyard  which  could  be
raised  from  the  crow's-nest.  This  was  in  the  event
that  the  whale  was  sighted  from  the  ship.  Two


90  THE  ICE  PILOT

jerks  would  be  the  signal  that  the  fleet  should  go  to
leeward;  one  jerk,  into  the  wind.
Across  the  whale  slick  the  mate's  boat  darted,
then  came  up  and  held  its  position  with  sail  flapping.
Cushner  drove  farther  to  the  south  where  he,  too,
brought  his  boat  in  the  wind  and  waited.
Marr  lowered  his  glass  and  stared  up  at  the  Ice
Pilot.  "  It's  time,  isn't  it?"  the  captain  asked.
"Almost,"  replied  Stirling.  "That  old  bull's
been  down  eighteen  minutes."

The  Ice  Pilot  replaced  his  watch  and  waited  like  a
hunter  in  a  jungle  tree.  His  were  the  highest  eyes
on  those  waters.  He  swept  them  across  the  sea  and
somewhat  ahead  of  Cushner's  boat,  then  he  stiffened
and  jerked  up  his  flag.  He  held  it  at  the  masthead,
then  jerked  again.  The  whale  had  showed  white
water  not  a  cable's  length  from  the  second  mate's
boat.
"He's  up!"  called  Stirling  in  his  excitement.
"Sam's  right  there!"

Cushner  caught  the  signal  from  above  the  crow's-
nest  of  the  Pole  Star.  He  swung  his  body  and
allowed  the  boat  to  run  before  the  wind,  peering  un-
der the  bulging  sail  with  its  lifted  boom.  He  pointed
and  pressed  the  tiller  handle.
