FIRST PART
CHAPTER 6: At Full Steam
(continued)
Infuriated, Commander Farragut kept twisting the thick tuft of hair
that flourished below his chin.
"Ned Land!" he called.
The Canadian reported at once.
"Well, Mr. Land," the commander asked, "do you still advise putting
my longboats to sea?"
"No, sir," Ned Land replied, "because that beast won't be caught
against its will."
"Then what should we do?"
"Stoke up more steam, sir, if you can. As for me, with your
permission I'll go perch on the bobstays under the bowsprit,
and if we can get within a harpoon length, I'll harpoon the brute."
"Go to it, Ned," Commander Farragut replied. "Engineer," he called,
"keep the pressure mounting!"
Ned Land made his way to his post. The furnaces were urged
into greater activity; our propeller did forty-three revolutions
per minute, and steam shot from the valves. Heaving the log,
we verified that the Abraham Lincoln was going at the rate of 18.5
miles per hour.
But that damned animal also did a speed of 18.5.
For the next hour our frigate kept up this pace without gaining a fathom!
This was humiliating for one of the fastest racers in the American navy.
The crew were working up into a blind rage. Sailor after sailor heaved
insults at the monster, which couldn't be bothered with answering back.
Commander Farragut was no longer content simply to twist his goatee;
he chewed on it.
The engineer was summoned once again.
"You're up to maximum pressure?" the commander asked him.
"Aye, sir," the engineer replied.
"And your valves are charged to . . . ?"
"To six and a half atmospheres."
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