way without any special precautions being taken.  A bright look-out, we always kept, of course—­none of your drowsy lolling about such as is all too common on the “fo’lk’sle head” of many a fine ship, when, with lights half trimmed or not shown at all, she is ploughing along blindly at twelve knots or so an hour.  No; while we were under way during daylight, four pairs of keen eyes kept incessant vigil a hundred feet above the deck, noting everything, even to a shoal of small fish, that crossed within the range of vision.  At night we scarcely moved, but still a vigilant lookout was always kept both fore and aft, so that it would have been difficult for us to drift upon a reef unknowingly.

Creeping steadily northward, we passed the Cosmoledo group of atolls without paying them a visit, which was strange, as, from their appearance, no better fishing-ground would be likely to come in our way.  They are little known, except to the wandering fishermen from Reunion and Rodriguez, who roam about these islets and reefs, seeking anything that may be turned into coin, from wrecks to turtle, and in nowise particular as to rights of ownership.  When between the Cosmoledos and Astove, the next island to the northward, we sighted a “solitary” cachalot one morning just as the day dawned.  It was the first for some time —­nearly three weeks—­and being all well seasoned to the work now, we obeyed the call to arms with great alacrity.  Our friend was making a passage, turning neither to the right hand nor the left as he went.  His risings and number of spouts while up, as well as the time he remained below, were as regular as the progress of a clock, and could be counted upon with quite as much certainty.

Bearing in mind, I suppose, the general character of the whales we had recently met with, only two boats were lowered to attack the new-comer, who, all unconscious of our coming, pursued his leisurely course unheeding.

We got a good weather gage of him, and came flying on as usual getting two irons planted in fine style.  But a surprise awaited us.  As we sheered up into the wind away from him, Louis shouted, “Fightin’ whale, sir; look out for de rush!” Look out, indeed?  Small use in looking out when, hampered as we always were at first with the unshipping of the mast, we could do next to nothing to avoid him.  Without any of the desperate flounderings generally indulged in on first feeling the iron, he turned upon us, and had it not been that he caught sight of the second mate’s boat, which had just arrived, and turned his attentions to her, there would have been scant chance of any escape for us.  Leaping half out of water, he made direct for our comrades with a vigour and ferocity marvellous to see, making it a no easy matter for them to avoid his tremendous rush.  Our actions, at no time slow, were considerably hastened by this display of valour, so that before he could turn his attentions in our direction we were