re the whale had again risen, not much more
than a mile away from the boats. Again they were in rapid movement. We
doubted not that this time they would reach the monster. Through our
glasses we made him out to be a bull--an old greyhead, and probably a
cunning fellow, one likely to try every dodge which a whale can think of
to escape, and if failing to do that, and hard pressed, one who was
likely to turn on his pursuers, and attack them with his open jaws or
mighty flukes.

"Well, whatever freak he takes, our captain is the man to meet him,"
observed old Tom Knowles--a long-experienced hand in the South-Seas, but
who, having hurt his arm, was unable to go in the boats. "As long as
daylight lasts, he'll not give up the chase."

I had thought that when a whale was seen, it was merely necessary to
pull after him, dig the harpoons into him, and allow him to drag the
boats along till he died; but I found it was often a far more difficult
task than this to kill a whale.

"There again--there again!" shouted the look-outs from aloft; and the
cry was repeated by all on deck, while the whale continued spouting.
Fast as at first, if not faster, the boats flew after him--the captain's
again leading.

"This time we'll have him, surely," exclaimed Newman, who was as eager
as any of us.

"Not quite so sure of that, Ned," observed old Knowles. "I've seen one
of these old chaps go down half-a-dozen times before a harpoon was
struck in him, and, after all, with three or four in his side, break
away, and carry them off just as the sun was setting, and there was no
chance of getting another sight of him. I say, never be certain that
you've got him, till he's safe in the casks. I've seen one, after he
has been killed, go down like a shot, for no reason that anyone on board
could tell, except to spite us for having caught him."

While old Tom was speaking, the boats had approached close to the whale.
For my own part, after what I had heard, I fully expected to see him
lift his flukes, and go down as he had done before. The captain's boat
was up to him--the rest hung back, not to run the risk of alarming the
wary monster. The captain stood up in the bows--a fine bold figure he
looked, as he poised his glittering harpoon in his right hand, high
above his head. "There!--peak your oars," cried old Tom, as the crew
raised them with a flourish to a perpendicular position, having given
the boat sufficient impetus to take her alon