Hold it overside in the falls, or that damned fish'll smash it.

Just swing it out, ready and waiting, let the men get their bags, then stow food and water aboard of her." Lashings were cast off the boat and the falls attached, when the men fled to holding-vantage just ere the whale arrived.

She struck the _Mary Turner_ squarely amidships on the port beam, so that, from the poop, one saw, as well as heard, her long side bend and spring back like a limber fabric.

The starboard rail buried under the sea as the schooner heeled to the blow, and, as she righted with a violent lurch, the water swashed across the deck to the knees of the sailors about the boat and spouted out of the port scuppers.
"Heave away!" Captain Doane ordered from the poop.

"Up with her! Swing her out! Hold your turns! Make fast!" The boat was outboard, its gunwale resting against the _Mary Turner's_ rail.
"Ten inches, sir, and making fast," was the mate's information, as he gauged the sounding-rod.
"I'm going after my tools," Captain Doane announced, as he started for the cabin.