into port. We bowled along at a fine rate, towing our prize, that
plunged and rolled by our side in eccentric style, almost as if still
alive. Along about midnight we reached Saddle Point, where there was
some shelter from the sea which rolled up the wide open strait, and
there we anchored.

Leaving me and a couple of Kanakas on watch, the captain, and all hands
besides, went below for a little sleep. My instructions were to call the
captain if the weather got at all ugly-looking, so that we might run
in to Port William at once, but he did not wish to do so if our present
position proved sufficiently sheltered. He had not been below an hour
before there was a change for the worse. That greasy, filmy haze was
again drawn over the clear blue of the sky, and the light scud began to
fly overhead at an alarmingly rapid rate. So at four bells I called him
again. He came on deck at once, and after one look round ordered
the hands up to man the windlass. By eight bells (four a.m.) we were
rounding the frowning rocks at the entrance of Port William, and
threading our way between the closely-set, kelp-hidden dangers as if it
were broadest, dearest daylight. At 4.30 we let go the anchor again,
and all hands, except the regular "anchor-watch," bolted below to their
bunks again like so many rabbits.

It was very comfortable, cutting-in a sperm whale in harbour, after
the dire difficulty of performing the same operation in a seaway. And,
although it may seem strange, this was the first occasion that voyage
that I had had a really good opportunity of closely studying the whale's
anatomy. Consequently the work was exceedingly interesting, and, in
spite of the labour involved, I was almost sorry when the job was done.
Under the present favourable circumstances we were ready to cut the
carcass adrift shortly after midday, the head, of course, having
been taken off first. Just after we started to cut-in a boat appeared
alongside with six Maories and half-breeds on board. Their leader came
up and civilly asked the skipper whether he intended doing anything with
the carcass. Upon being promptly answered in the negative, he said that
he and his companions proposed hooking on to the great mass when we cut
it adrift, towing it ashore, and getting out of it what oil we had been
unable to extract, which at sea is always lost to the ship. He also
suggested that he would be prepared to take reasonable terms for such
oil, which we should be able