nother moment, and the
great Tamerlane himself turned heavily about; pointing his black,
cannon-like nose directly toward our broadside. Meanwhile, the little
Pilot fish darted hither and thither; keeping up a mighty fidgeting,
like men of small minds in a state of nervous agitation.

Presently, Tamerlane swam nearer and nearer, all the while lazily
eyeing the Chamois, as a wild boar a kid. Suddenly making a rush for
it, in the foam he made away with the bait. But the next instant, the
uplifted lance sped at his skull; and thrashing his requiem with his
sinewy tail, he sunk slowly, through his own blood, out of sight.
Down with him swam the terrified Pilot fish; but soon after, three of
them were observed close to the boat, gliding along at a uniform
pace; one an each side, and one in advance; even as they had attended
their lord. Doubtless, one was under our keel.

"A good omen," said Jarl; "no harm will befall us so long as they stay."

But however that might be, follow us they did, for many days after:
until an event occurred, which necessitated their withdrawal.

CHAPTER XIX
Who Goes There?

Jarl's oar showed sixteen notches on the loom, when one evening, as
the expanded sun touched the horizon's rim, a ship's uppermost spars
were observed, traced like a spider's web against its crimson disk.
It looked like a far-off craft on fire.

In bright weather at sea, a sail, invisible in the full flood of
noon, becomes perceptible toward sunset. It is the reverse in the
morning. In sight at gray dawn, the distant vessel, though in reality
approaching, recedes from view, as the sun rises higher and higher.
This holds true, till its vicinity makes it readily fall within the
ordinary scope of vision. And thus, too, here and there, with other
distant things: the more light you throw on them, the more you
obscure. Some revelations show best in a twilight.

The sight of the stranger not a little surprised us. But brightening
up, as if the encounter were welcome, Jarl looked happy and
expectant. He quickly changed his demeanor, however, upon perceiving
that I was bent upon shunning a meeting.

Instantly our sails were struck; and calling upon Jarl, who was
somewhat backward to obey, I shipped the oars; and, both rowing, we
stood away obliquely from our former course.

I divined that the vessel was a whaler; and hence, that by help of
the glass, with which her look-outs must be momentarily sweeping the
horizon, the