me up with this fish, so the prize
belonged to them. We were well pleased at this, as we could afford to
let them have it, seeing that we could scarcely have found room to stow
away the oil in our hold. It was the Yankees' first fish, too, so they
were in great spirits about it, and towed it to their ship, singing
"Yankee-doodle" with all their might.

As they passed our boat the captain hailed them.

"I wish you joy of your first fish, sir," said he to the Yankee captain.

"Thank you, stranger. I guess we're in luck, though it ain't a big one.
I say, what sort o' brute was that, that had hold of him? Never seed
sich a crittur in all my life."

"He's a killer," said our captain.

"A killer! Guess he just is, and no mistake: if we hadn't helped him,
he'd have done the job for himself! What does he kill him for?"

"To eat him, but I'm told he only eats the tongue. You'll not forget
that you've promised to gam with us to-night," cried our captain, as
they were about to commence pulling again.

"All right, stranger, one half will come to-night, before sundown;
t'other half to-morrow, if the calm holds. Good-day. Give way, lads."

The men dipped their oars, and resumed their song, while we pulled back
to our ship. We did not offer to help them, because the fish was a
small one, and the distance they had to go not great.

It was near sunset when, according to promise, the Yankees came on
board, and spent a long evening with us. They were a free,
open-hearted, boastful, conceited, good-humoured set of fellows, and a
jolly night we had of it in the forecastle, while the mates and captains
were enjoying themselves and spinning their yarns in the cabin.

Of course, we began with demands for home news, and, when we had pumped
out of them every drop they had, we began to sing songs and to spin
yarns. And it was now that my friend Tom Lokins came out strong, and
went on at such a rate, that he quite won the hearts of our guests. Tom
was not noisy, and he was slow in his talk, but he had the knack of
telling a good story; he never used a wrong word, or a word too many,
and, having a great deal of humour, men could not help listening when he
began to talk.

After this we had a dance, and here I became useful, being able to play
Scotch reels and Irish jigs on the fiddle. Then we had songs and yarns
again. Some could tell of furious fights with whales that made our
blood boil; others could talk of the green fi