"Lordy me, rest on your oars an' watch." Delivered squarely amidships, it was the hardest blow the _Mary Turner_ had received.

Stays and splinters of rail flew in the air as she rolled so far over as to expose half her copper wet-glistening in the sun.

As she righted sluggishly, the mainmast swayed drunkenly in the air but did not fall.
"A knock-out!" Daughtry cried, at sight of the whale flurrying the water with aimless, gigantic splashings.

"It must a-smashed both of 'em." "Schooner he finish close up altogether," Kwaque observed, as the _Mary Turner's_ rail disappeared.
Swiftly she sank, and no more than a matter of moments was it when the stump of her mainmast was gone.

Remained only the whale, floating and floundering, on the surface of the sea.
"It's nothing to brag about," Daughtry delivered himself of the _Mary Turner's_ epitaph.