like a white-winged phantom floating over a sea of
fire, now assumed the appearance of a maiden decked in her bridal robes.

A man of short, stout figure, a sort of compromise between an alderman
and a dwarf, with very short legs, a broad red face, wide mouth, crispy
grey hair that stood nearly erect on his head, a red, punky nose, and
keen, grey eyes, paced watchfully up and down the quarter-deck. He was
dressed in white pantaloons and jacket, both fitting tight to his skin,
and wore a Panama hat, with a long black ribbon streaming behind.

He would pause at the hand-rail every few minutes, scan eagerly along
the sky from north to south, as if studying the strange and sudden
changes that were going on in the heavens. Then he would exchange a few
words with the officer of the watch, and resume his walk. Eight bells
had just struck, the wind began to freshen and veer to the southwest,
and the sky became overcast and filled with white, fleecy clouds.

An order was given to take in studding-sails and get the ship "snug" for
the night, and quickly obeyed. Order and regularity prevailed on board
the good ship Pacific; and the promptness and cheerfulness with which
both officers and men performed their duties showed that they had a more
than ordinary interest in the ship and her voyage. Fashion had not then
made slaves and idlers of our young men of wealthy parents, and it was,
indeed, thought no disgrace for a gentleman of position to send his sons
on one of these voyages, to do duty before the mast. It taught them how
to face danger and endure hardships. It developed their manliness, and
made them more self-reliant. It gave them a knowledge of the world they
could not get elsewhere, and laid a good foundation for a fixed and
lasting character. Indeed, some of our richest and most enterprising
merchants have dated their prosperity from one of these voyages.

The short, bluff-looking man pacing the quarter-deck was Captain Price
Bottom; and a more honest-hearted old salt never sailed the sea. His
great skill in killing whales had made him famous among whalemen
throughout the Pacific. He had made three successful voyages, bringing
home cargoes that had enriched his owners, put money in his own pocket,
and secured him a reputation he esteemed of more value than a fortune.
In truth, he regarded whales just as a terrier does rats, and found his
highest enjoyment in killing them. And yet nothing pleased him better
than when a w