ext loss was of a kind that could not be made up for by oil or
money, for it was the loss of a human life. In the whale-fishery men
must, like soldiers, expect to risk their lives frequently, and they
have too often, alas! to mourn over the loss of a shipmate or friend.
Up to this time our voyage had gone prosperously. We had caught so
many fish that nearly half our cargo was already completed, and if we
should be as lucky the remainder of the voyage, we should be able to
return home to Old England much sooner than we had expected.

Of course, during all this time we had met with some disappointments,
for I am not describing everything that happened on that voyage. It
would require a much thicker volume than this to tell the half of our
adventures. We lost five or six fish by their sinking before we could
get them made fast to the ship, and one or two bolted so fast that they
broke loose and carried away a number of harpoons and many a fathom of
line. But such misfortunes were what we had to look for. Every whaler
meets with similar changes of luck, and we did not expect to fare
differently from our neighbours. These things did not cause us much
regret beyond the time of their occurrence. But it was far otherwise
with the loss that now befell us.

It happened on a Sunday forenoon. I was standing close to the
starboard gangway early that morning, looking over the side into the
calm water, for there was not a breath of wind, and talking to the
first mate, who was a gruff, surly man, but a good officer, and kind
enough in his way when everything went smooth with him. But things
don't go very smooth generally in whaling life, so the mate was oftener
gruff than sweet.

"Bob Ledbury," said he, "have you got your cutting-in gear in order?
I've got a notion that we'll 'raise the oil' this day."

"All right, sir," said I; "you might shave yourself with the
blubber-spades. That was a good fish we got last, sir, wasn't it?"

"Pretty good, though I've seen bigger."

"He gave us a deal of trouble too," said I.

"Not so much as I've seen others give," said he. "When I was fishing
in the Greenland Seas we made fast to a whale that cost us I don't know
how many hundred dollars." (You must know the first mate was a Yankee,
and he reckoned everything in dollars.)

"How was that, sir?" asked I.

"Well, it was something in this fashion. We were floating about in the
North Atlantic one calm, hot day, just something l