"He's blowing hard!" exclaimed one of the sailors. "I guess he's
about done for!"
"Which one?" asked Tom.
"The whale," was the reply. "The killer has the best of the big
fellow," and the sailor quickly explained how the smaller killer
fish, by the peculiarity of its attack, and its great ferocity,
often bested its larger antagonist.
The battle was now at its height, and Tom and the others were
interested spectators. At times neither of the big creatures could
be seen, because of the smother of foam in which they rolled and
threshed about. The whale endeavored to sound, or go to the bottom,
but the killer stuck to him relentlessly.
Suddenly, however, as Tom looked, the whale, by a stroke of his
broad tail, momentarily stunned his antagonist. Instantly realizing
that he was free the great creature, which was about ninety feet
long, darted away, swimming on the surface of the water, for he
needed to get all the air possible.
Quickly acquiring momentum, the whale came on like a locomotive,
spouting at intervals, the vapor from the blowholes looking not
unlike steam from some submarine boat.
"He looks to be heading this way," remarked Mr. Durban to Tom.
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