plunging of
the fast-dying leviathan warned us to retreat. Up he went out of the
glittering foam into the upper darkness, while we held our breath at the
unique sight of a whale breaching at night. But when he fell again the
effect was marvellous. Green columns of water arose on either side
of the descending mass as if from the bowels of the deep, while
their ghostly glare lit up the encircling gloom with a strange, weird
radiance, which reflected in our anxious faces, made us look like an
expedition from the FLYING DUTCHMAN. A short spell of gradually quieting
struggle succeeded as the great beast succumbed, until all was still
again, except the strange, low surge made by the waves as they broke
over the bank of flesh passively obstructing their free sweep.

While the final touch was being given to our task--i.e. the hole-boring
through the tail-fin--all hands lay around in various picturesque
attitudes, enjoying a refreshing smoke, care forgetting. While thus
pleasantly employed, sudden death, like a bolt from the blue, leapt into
our midst in a terrible form. The skipper was labouring hard at his task
of cutting the hole for the tow-line, when without warning the great fin
swung back as if suddenly released from tremendous tension. Happily for
us, the force of the blow was broken by its direction, as it struck the
water before reaching the boat's side, but the upper lobe hurled the
boat-spade from the captain's hands back into our midst, where it struck
the tub oarsman, splitting his head in two halves. The horror of the
tragedy, the enveloping darkness, the inexplicable revivifying of the
monster, which we could not have doubted to be dead, all combined to
stupefy and paralyze us for the time. Not a sound was heard in our boat,
though the yells of inquiry from our companion craft arose in increasing
volume. It was but a brief accession of energy, only lasting two or
three minutes, when the whale collapsed finally. Having recovered from
our surprise, we took no further chances with so dangerous an opponent,
but bored him as full of holes as a colander.

Mournful and miserable were the remaining hours of our vigil. We sat
around poor Miguel's corpse with unutterable feelings, recalling all
the tragical events of the voyage, until we reached the nadir of
despondency. With the rosy light of morning came more cheerful feelings,
heightened by the close proximity of the ship, from which it is probable
we had never been mo