For fully five minutes the man stood in this attitude. Then suddenly he lunged forward and hurled the shaft. Instantly there was a mighty splash just under the yawl’s bow and the next moment the craft shot forward with a rush.
The fight was on! This way and that the little ship zigzagged, jerked about like a nut shell by the powerful fish it was hitched to. It was a terrible struggle! Now and then the monster would come more than half out of the water in a frenzied effort to tear the harpoon loose! Jack could see its long tusk cut the waves and he shuddered when he thought of the damage the sword would do to a dory or any other small craft in its way. But these tremendous rushes soon began to tell on the captive and the struggle settled down to a steady pulling match, in which the fish towed the yawl at least three miles out of the tender’s course. At this point Mr. Warner and the rest put down their glasses. Jack, however, watched longer than the rest for he was extremely interested.
But before he saw the finish, his attention was diverted by a shout from the bow:
“Hood Island—Ho!” came the cry of the lookout.
There was something in the call that thrilled the lad and instantly he turned his glasses toward the north. In the dim distance he could make out a long wooded island, the seaward end of which was a high promontory. On this was perched the black and white tower of the old Hood Island light; the structure which was soon to be replaced by a more modern building, providing Mr. Warner and his men were able to conquer the breakers that swept the head of Cobra Reef.
“Well, Jack, there’s the scene of our future triumphs,” said Mr. Warner, clapping the boy on the shoulder.
“Fine; it certainly does look interesting from here,” said the lad enthusiastically.
“In about an hour you’ll have a chance to see the place at close range. Then perhaps you won’t be so keen about it, my boy.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” insisted the lad from Drueryville, as he took another look at the island through his glasses.