The thrust that would have gone clean through the calf, splitting its heart in two, went deep into her own side.
"Withdrawing his terrible weapon, the robber fish whirled about like lightning and made a second dash at the coveted prize.

But the mother, holding the little one tight under her flipper, wheeled again in time to intercept the attack, and again received the dreadful thrust in her own flank.

So swift was the swordfish (he was a kind of giant mackerel, with all the mackerel's grace and fire and nimbleness) that he seemed to be everywhere at once.

The whale was kept spinning around in a dizzy circle of foam, like a whirlpool, with the bewildered calf on the inside.

The mighty twisting thrusts of her tail, with its flukes twenty feet wide, set the whole surface boiling for hundreds of yards about.
"At last, grown suddenly frantic with rage, with terror for her little one, and with the pain of her wounds, the tormented mother broke into a deep booming bellow, as of a hundred bulls.