the rest hauled with all their might upon the line, hoping to get a little closer to the flying monster.  Inch by inch we gained on him, encouraged by the hoarse objurgations of the mate, whose excitement was intense.  After what seemed a terribly long chase, we found his speed slackening, and we redoubled our efforts.  Now we were close upon him; now, in obedience to the steersman, the boat sheered out a bit, and we were abreast of his labouring flukes; now the mate hurls his quivering lance with such hearty good-will that every inch of its slender shaft disappears within the huge body.  “Layoff!  Off with her, Louey!” screamed the mate; and she gave a wide sheer away from the whale, not a second too soon.  Up flew that awful tail, descending with a crash upon the water not two feet from us.  “Out oars!  Pull, two! starn, three!” shouted the mate; and as we obeyed our foe turned to fight.  Then might one see how courage and skill were such mighty factors in the apparently unequal contest.  The whale’s great length made it no easy job for him to turn, while our boat, with two oars a-side, and the great leverage at the stern supplied by the nineteen-foot steer-oar circled, backed, and darted ahead like a living thing animated by the mind of our commander.  When the leviathan settled, we gave a wide berth to his probable place of ascent; when he rushed at us, we dodged him; when he paused, if only momentarily, in we flew, and got home a fearful thrust of the deadly lance.

All fear was forgotten now—­I panted, thirsted for his life.  Once, indeed, in a sort of frenzy, when for an instant we lay side by side with him, I drew my sheath-knife, and plunged it repeatedly into the blubber, as if I were assisting is his destruction.  Suddenly the mate gave a howl:  “Starn all—­starn all! oh, starn!” and the oars bent like canes as we obeyed.  There was an upheaval of the sea just ahead; then slowly, majestically, the vast body of our foe rose into the air.  Up, up it went, while my heart stood still, until the whole of that immense creature hung on high, apparently motionless, and then fell—­a hundred tons of solid flesh—­back into the sea.  On either side of that mountainous mass the waters rose in shining towers of snowy foam, which fell in their turn, whirling and eddying around us as we tossed and fell like a chip in a whirlpool.  Blinded by the flying spray, baling for very life to free the boat from the water with which she was nearly full, it was some minutes before I was able to decide whether we were still uninjured or not.  Then I saw, at a little distance, the whale lying quietly.  As I looked he spouted, and the vapour was red with his blood.  “Starn all!” again cried our chief, and we retreated to a considerable distance.  The old warrior’s practised eye had detected the coming climax of our efforts, the dying agony or “furry” of the great mammal.  Turning upon his side, he began to move in a circular direction, slowly at first, then faster