“Awkward for secrets!”

“And how does sound operate with regard to solid bodies?” inquired Jack.

“According to the degree of elasticity possessed by their veins or fibres.”

“Explain yourself.”

“That is, solid bodies, whose structure is such that the vibration communicated to some of their atoms circulates through the mass, are susceptible of conveying sound.”

“Give us an instance.”

“Apply your ear to one end of a long beam, and you will hear distinctly the stroke of a pin’s head on the other; whilst the same stroke will scarcely be heard through the breadth of the wood.”

“So that, in the first case, the sound runs along the longitudinal fibres where the contiguity of parts is closer, than when the body is taken transversely?”

“Just so.”

“And across water?”

“It is heard, but more feebly.”

For some time Fritz had been closely observing with the telescope a particular part of the horizon, when all at once he cried, “This time I see him distinctly; he is bearing down upon us.”

“Who? the sloop?” cried Willis, starting up and letting fall the glass he had in his hand.

“What an extraordinary pace! he bounds into the air, then plumps into the water, then leaps up again, just like an India-rubber ball, that touches the ground only to take a fresh spring!”

“Impossible, Master Fritz; the Nelson tops the waves honestly and gallantly; but as to leaping into the air, she is a little too bulky for that.”

“Ah, poor Willis, it is not the Nelson that is under my glass at present, but an enormous fish, ten or twelve feet in length.”

“Oh, how you startled me!”

“Father!  Ernest! prepare to fire!  Jack, the harpoon! he is coming this way.”

Fritz stood at the stern of the pinnace, his rifle levelled, following with his eyes the movements of the monster; when within reach, he fired with so much success and address that he hit the creature on the head.  It then changed its course, leaving behind a train of blood.

“Let us after him, Willis; quick!”

The Pilot turned the head of the pinnace, and Jack immediately threw his harpoon.

“Struck!” cried he joyfully.

By the hissing of the line, and then the rapid impulsion of the pinnace, it was felt that the monster had more strength than the craft and its crew together.

Ernest and his father fired at the same time; the ball of the former was lost in the animal’s flesh, that of the latter rebounded off a horny protuberance that armed the monster’s upper lip.

Fritz had time to recharge his rifle; he levelled it a second time, and the ball went to join the former; but, for all that, the pinnace continued to cleave the water at a furious rate.

Becker seized an axe and cut the rope.

“Oh, father, what a pity! such a splendid capture for our museum of natural history!”