n for the resolute determination on the part
of Captain Farragut, the frigate would have headed due southward. This
useless search could not last much longer. The Abraham Lincoln had
nothing to reproach herself with, she had done her best to succeed.
Never had an American ship's crew shown more zeal or patience; its
failure could not be placed to their charge--there remained nothing but
to return.

This was represented to the commander. The sailors could not hide
their discontent, and the service suffered. I will not say there was a
mutiny on board, but after a reasonable period of obstinacy, Captain
Farragut (as Columbus did) asked for three days' patience. If in three
days the monster did not appear, the man at the helm should give three
turns of the wheel, and the Abraham Lincoln would make for the European
seas.

This promise was made on the 2nd of November. It had the effect of
rallying the ship's crew. The ocean was watched with renewed
attention. Each one wished for a last glance in which to sum up his
remembrance. Glasses were used with feverish activity. It was a grand
defiance given to the giant narwhal, and he could scarcely fail to
answer the summons and "appear."

Two days passed, the steam was at half pressure; a thousand schemes
were tried to attract the attention and stimulate the apathy of the
animal in case it should be met in those parts. Large quantities of
bacon were trailed in the wake of the ship, to the great satisfaction
(I must say) of the sharks. Small craft radiated in all directions
round the Abraham Lincoln as she lay to, and did not leave a spot of
the sea unexplored. But the night of the 4th of November arrived
without the unveiling of this submarine mystery.

The next day, the 5th of November, at twelve, the delay would (morally
speaking) expire; after that time, Commander Farragut, faithful to his
promise, was to turn the course to the south-east and abandon for ever
the northern regions of the Pacific.

The frigate was then in 31 deg. 15' N. lat. and 136 deg. 42' E. long.
The coast of Japan still remained less than two hundred miles to
leeward. Night was approaching. They had just struck eight bells;
large clouds veiled the face of the moon, then in its first quarter.
The sea undulated peaceably under the stern of the vessel.

At that moment I was leaning forward on the starboard netting.
Conseil, standing near me, was looking straight before him. The crew,
perc