Tommo & Hawk by Bryce Courtenay Page A

lard.

    Numbly, I follow suit. I am astonished at the ease with which the blade runs through the whale flesh. Hammerhead Jack twists and probes, churning the malevolent knife to find the blood pipe he seeks, grunting with the effort. I do the same, though I feel sick as my blade buries into the great beast's body, not knowing what it is I seek to find.

    Suddenly a great arc of crimson, ten inches wide, sprays out from where I have made my cut, and both Hammerhead Jack and I are deluged in the sanguineous gush.

    'Push away and stand off!' Nestbyte yells.

    I am not certain how, in my bloody state, I find my oar, nor do I recall pushing away from the whale. But we are a full twenty feet away when the bull begins to roll towards us and his great flukes come up and smash down in a mighty explosion which rings my ears almost to deafness. He barely misses us as he prepares to dive. It is as though a mountain is falling on us and I am certain we shall be crushed to death.

    Somehow the bull's huge bulk misses and we escape his crushing weight upon us. But with a roar of rushing water, a tidal wave overtakes us, and the boat goes over. I am under water yet can hear the scream of the line as it pays out. I struggle to free myself, knowing I have only moments to reach the surface before I must tangle in the line and be cut in half.

    I come clear of the boat at last, gasping and taking great gulps of air. The water about me is stained red. A paddle floats past and I grab it. It sinks beneath my grasp and then I see that I am clutching a man's severed arm. I drop it from my frantic grasp and swim the few strokes towards the whaleboat, which has by some miracle righted itself. It is not yet moving, though the line is still paying out with a high-pitched whistle.

    My terror spurring me on, I lift myself into the half-submerged boat. I rest a moment, sucking in the wondrous air, before looking about me. In the water around me other heads have surfaced and they swim towards the boat where I pull each aboard as best I can, three of the Maori and Nestbyte, but Hammerhead Jack is missing.

    Then I see him twenty feet away. He is threshing the water with one arm, his head coming up and going down again in a foam of scarlet.

    A moment more and I am sure my courage would have failed, but I am in the water before I know it and stroking out towards the wounded man.

    'Leave him! Damn thee, nigger! Leave the bastard!' I hear Nestbyte gasp from the boat, but I continue to swim. Tommo and I have been strong swimmers since childhood and in a few strokes I am upon Hammerhead Jack. I grab him about the chest and he has the good sense not to struggle or perhaps he has passed out, and I am able to pull him towards the boat.

    As I reach the side, which is half-submerged in the water, a strong hand encircles my wrist and I grab back to make a better purchase. But at that very moment the line zings and stiffens, and the boat begins to move away. The whale, which has dived straight down, is now levelling off and pulling away again.

    'Cut the rope! Cut the rope!' I am shouting, though only in my head of course.

    'Leave him, nigger!' Nestbyte screams at me. 'Let go the damned cannibal!' Then he brings his boot up and, aiming it at Hammerhead Jack's head, kicks viciously downwards to separate him from me, or both of us from the boat, in order to chase his whale.

    'Damn thee! The lance is perfect set, the whale is ours!' he screams.

    I have my hand about the wrist of one of the Maori whalemen on board and my arm hooked through Hammerhead Jack's good arm and about his chest, my chin clasped to his neck. I will not let go, nor will the young Maori who is holding onto me. Blood drips onto my shoulder where Nestbyte has crushed Jack's right eye and nose with the heel of his boot. The water around us is stained crimson with the whale's blood, as well as that from the harpooner's severed arm socket.

    I am hanging on for dear life as the whaleboat gains speed.