Two-thirds of our stay in the islands had passed away, when, for a wonder, the captain took it into his head to go up to the chief village one morning.  So he retained me on board, while the other three boats left for the day’s cruise as usual.  One of the mate’s crew was sick, and to replace him he took Abner out of my boat.  Away they went; and shortly after breakfast-time I lowered, received the captain on board, and we started for the capital.  Upon our arrival there we interviewed the chief, a stout, pleasant-looking man of about fifty, who was evidently held in great respect by the natives, and had a chat with the white Wesleyan missionary in charge of the station.  About two p.m., after the captain’s business was over, we were returning under sail, when we suddenly caught sight of two of our boats heading in towards one of the islands.  We helped her with the paddles to get up to them, seeing as we neared them the two long fins of a whale close ahead of one of them.  As we gazed breathlessly at the exciting scene, we saw the boat rush in between the two flippers, the harpooner at the same time darting an iron straight down.  There was a whirl in the waters, and quick as thought the vast flukes of the whale rose in the air, recurving with a sidelong sweep as of some gigantic scythe.  The blow shore off the bow of the attacking boat as if it had been an egg-shell.

At the same moment the mate stooped, picked up the tow-line from its turn round the logger-head, and threw it forward from him.  He must have unconsciously given a twist to his hand, for the line fell in a kink round Abner’s neck just as the whale went down with a rush.  Struggling, clutching at the fatal noose, the hapless man went flying out through the incoming sea, and in one second was lost to sight for ever.  Too late, the harpooner cut the line which attached the wreck to the retreating animal, leaving the boat free, but gunwale under.  We instantly hauled alongside of the wreck and transferred her crew, all dazed and horror-stricken at the awful death of their late comrade.

I saw the tears trickle down the rugged, mahogany-coloured face of the captain, and honoured him for it, but there was little time to waste in vain regrets.  It was necessary to save the boat, if possible, as we were getting short of boat-repairing material; certainly we should not have been able to build a new one.  So, drawing the two sound boats together, one on either side of the wreck, we placed the heavy steering oars across them from side to side.  We then lifted the battered fore part upon the first oar, and with a big effort actually succeeded in lifting the whole of the boat out of water upon this primitive pontoon.  Then, taking the jib, we “frapped” it round the opening where the bows had been, lashing it securely in that position.  Several hands were told off to jump into her stern on the word, and all being ready we launched her again.  The weight of the chaps in her stern-sheets cocked her bows right out of water, and in that position we towed her back to the ship, arriving safely before dusk.