Never before or since has a ship looked like that, to me, nor can I ever forget the thankfulness, the delight, the reverence, with which I once more saw her approaching.  Straight down upon us she bore, rounding to within a cable’s length, and dropping a boat simultaneously with her windward sweep.  They had no whale—­well for us they had not.  In five minutes we were on board, while our late resting-place was being hauled alongside with great glee.

The captain shook hands with me cordially, pooh-poohing the loss of the boat as an unavoidable incident of the trade, but expressing his heart-felt delight at getting us all back safe.  The whale we had killed was ample compensation for the loss of several boats, though such was the vigour with which the sharks were going for him, that it was deemed advisable to cut in at once, working all night.  We who had been rescued, however, were summarily ordered below by the skipper, and forbidden, on pain of his severe displeasure, to reappear until the following morning.  This great privilege we gladly availed ourselves of, awaking at daylight quite well and fit, not a bit the worse for our queer experience of the previous day.

The whale proved a great acquisition, for although not nearly so large as many we had caught, he was so amazingly rich in blubber that he actually yielded twelve and a half tuns of oil, in spite of the heavy toll taken of him by the hungry multitudes of sharks.  In addition to the oil, we were fortunate enough to secure a lump of ambergris, dislodged perhaps by the explosion of my bomb in the animal’s bowels.  It was nearly black, wax-like to the touch, and weighed seven pounds and a half.  At the current price, it would be worth about L200, so that, taken altogether, the whale very nearly approached in value the largest one we had yet caught.  I had almost omitted to state that incorporated with the substance of the ambergris were several of the horny cuttle-fish beaks, which, incapable of being digested, had become in some manner part of this peculiar product.

*

CHAPTER XX

“HUMPBACKING” At Vau Vau

Another three weeks’ cruising brought us to the end of the season on the line, which had certainly not answered all our expectations, although we had perceptibly increased the old barky’s draught during our stay.  Whether from love of change or belief in the possibilities of a good haul, I can hardly say, but Captain Count decided to make the best of his way south, to the middle group of the “Friendly” Archipelago, known as Vau Vau, the other portions being called Hapai and Tongataboo respectively, for a season’s “humpbacking.”  From all I could gather, we were likely to have a good time there, so I looked forward to the visit with a great deal of pleasurable anticipation.