I, Pierre Arronax, assistant professor in the Paris Museum of
Natural History, was at this time in America, where I had been engaged
on a scientific expedition into the disagreeable region of Nebraska. I
had arrived at New York in company of my faithful attendant, Conseil,
and was devoting my attention to classifying the numerous specimens I
had gathered for the Paris Museum. As I had already some reputation in
the scientific world from my book on "The Mysteries of the Great
Submarine Grounds," a number of people did me the honour of consulting
me concerning the one subject then exercising the minds of all
interested in ocean travel.

An expedition was also being fitted out by the United States government,
the fastest frigate of the navy, the Abraham Lincoln, under command of
Captain Farragut, being in active preparation, with the object of
hunting out this wandering monster which had last been seen three weeks
before by a San Francisco steamer in the North Pacific Ocean. I was
invited to join this expedition as a representative of France, and
immediately decided to do so. The faithful Conseil said he would go with
me wherever I went, and thus it came about that my sturdy Flemish
companion, who had accompanied me on scientific expeditions for ten
years was with me again on the eventful cruise which began when we
sailed from Brooklyn for the Pacific and the unknown.

The crew of the frigate and the various scientists on board were all
eagerness to meet the great cetacean, or sea-unicorn. My own opinion was
that it would be found to be a narwhal of monstrous growth, for these
creatures are armed with a kind of ivory sword, or tusk, as hard as
steel, and sometimes nearly seven feet long by fifteen inches in
diameter at the base. Supposing one to exist ten times as large as any
that had ever been captured, with its tusk proportionately powerful, it
was conceivable that such a gigantic creature, moving at a great rate,
could do all the damage that had been reported.

There was among our crew one Ned Land, a gigantic Canadian of forty, who
was considered to be the prince of harpooners. Many a whale had received
its deathblow from him, and he was eager to flesh his harpoon in this
redoubtable cetacean which had terrified the marine world.

Week after week passed without any sign that our quest would be
successful. Indeed, after nearly four months had gone, and we had
explored the whole of the Japanese and Chinese coasts, t