It came on afternoon. The tide was out, and we lay about. There was
not enough wind to flutter the signal on the bluffs, which was Kreps'
red shirt, and hung there to entertain any one that might come by.
Kamelillo suddenly sat up. "Hear im?" he says.
There was a great noise over in the channel out of sight, a kind of
splashing, thumping, and blowing, and the waves rolled into the
harbour. We ran along the shore and came to the bluffs. There was
Liebchen! She appeared to have grounded in the channel, trying to get
in quick at low tide. But there were two harpoons, more than the
bamboo, sticking in her very deep, and the lines were hitched to a
longboat, the longboat coming inshore now full of men. Veronica
squatting on the thwart of the same, comfortable and dignified.
Kamelillo says, "Whale ain't got sense, thas whale!" And Kreps says,
"Ach, Liebchen!"
She struck her last flurry, and filled the air with spray. The
longboat held off, seeing she was likely to stay there and needed all
the room. After a while she grew quiet. A few motions of her flukes,
and that was all. The longboat came in, and we slid down the bluffs.
The man in the stern says, "That your hen?"
I said I was acquainted with her.
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