Their efforts realized twenty-four tuns of clear oil and spermaceti, of which, according to bargain, we took twelve, the captain buying the other twelve for L480, as previously arranged.  This latter portion, however, was his private venture, and not on ship’s account, as he proposed selling it at the Bluff, when we should call there on our way home.  So that we were still two whales short of our quantity.  What a little space it did seem to fill up!  Our patience was sorely tested, when, during a whole week following our last haul, we were unable to put to sea.  In vain we tried all the old amusements of fishing, rambling, bathing, etc.; they had lost their “bite;” we wanted to get home.  At last the longed-for shift of wind came and set us free.  We had hardly got well clear of the heads before we saw a school of cachalots away on the horizon, some twelve miles off the land to the southward.  We made all possible sail in chase, but found, to our dismay, that they were “making a passage,” going at such a rate that unless the wind freshened we could hardly hope to come up with them.  Fortunately, we had all day before us, having quitted our moorings soon after daylight; and unless some unforeseen occurrence prevented us from keeping up our rate of speed, the chances were that some time before dark they would ease up and allow us to approach them.  They were heading to the westward, perhaps somewhat to the northward withal, to all appearance making for the Solander.  Hour after hour crawled by, while we still seemed to preserve our relative distance, until we had skirted the southern shore of the island and entered the area, of our old fishing ground.  Two vessels were cruising thereon, well to the northward, and we thought with glee of the excitement that would seize them did they but gain an inkling of our chase.

To our great delight, what we had hoped, but hardly dared expect, came to pass.  The school, as if with one impulse, hauled up on their course four points, which made them head direct for the western verge of the Solander ground, and—­what was more important to us—­made our coming up with them a matter of a short time.  We made the customary signals with the upper sails to our friends to the northward, who recognized them immediately, and bore down towards us.  Not only had the school shifted their course, but they had slackened speed; so that by four o’clock we were able to lower for them at less than a mile distance.

It was an ideal whaling day—­smooth water, a brisk breeze, a brilliant sun, and plenty of whales.  I was, as became my position, in the rear when we went into action, and hardly hoped for an opportunity of doing much but dance attendance upon my seniors.  But fortune favoured me.  Before I had any idea whether the chief was fast or not, all other considerations were driven clean out of my head by the unexpected apparition of a colossal head, not a ship’s length away, coming straight for us, throwing up a