of recurring hisses, as if a colony of snakes had been disturbed.

We paddled on into the interior of this vast cave, finding everywhere
the walls rising sheer from the silent, dark waters, not a ledge or a
crevice where one might gain foothold. Indeed, in some places there was
a considerable overhang from above, as if a great dome whose top was
invisible sprang from some level below the water. We pushed ahead until
the tiny semicircle of light through which we had entered was only
faintly visible; and then, finding there was nothing to be seen except
what we were already witnessing, unless we cared to go on into the thick
darkness, which extended apparently into the bowels of the mountain, we
turned and started to go back. Do what we would, we could not venture to
break the solemn hush that surrounded us as if we were shut within the
dome of some vast cathedral in the twilight, So we paddled noiselessly
along for the exit, till suddenly an awful, inexplicable roar set all
our hearts thumping fit to break our bosoms. Really, the sensation was
most painful, especially as we had not the faintest idea whence the
noise came or what had produced it. Again it filled that immense cave
with its thunderous reverberations; but this time all the sting
was taken out of it, as we caught sight of its author. A goodly
bull-humpback had found his way in after us, and the sound of his spout,
exaggerated a thousand times in the confinement of that mighty cavern,
had frightened us all so that we nearly lost our breath. So far, so
good; but, unlike the old nigger, though we were "doin' blame well," we
did not "let blame well alone." The next spout that intruder gave,
he was right alongside of us. This was too much for the semi-savage
instincts of my gallant harpooner, and before I had time to shout a
caution he had plunged his weapon deep into old Blowhard's broad back.

I should like to describe what followed, but, in the first place, I
hardly know; and, in the next, even had I been cool and collected, my
recollections would sound like the ravings of a fevered dream. For of
all the hideous uproars conceivable, that was, I should think, about the
worst. The big mammal seemed to have gone frantic with the pain of his
wound, the surprise of the attack, and the hampering confinement in
which he found himself. His tremendous struggles caused such a commotion
that our position could only be compared to that of men shooting Niagara
in a cylinder