Away we went, however, in our wild-goose, whale chase, without any precise idea as to what we were to do if we should come up with the game. When we got near the great leviathan, his aspect became more and more formidable; and it was necessary to think of some regular plan of attack, if any were to be made. As to defence, it may easily be imagined that was out of the question; for one whisk of his tail would have sent the cutter and her crew, boat-hooks and all, spinning over the fore and yard arm of the flag-ship. All eyes were now upon us, and, after a pause, it was agreed unanimously, that we should run right on board of him, and take our chance. So we rowed forward; but the whale, whose back was then shewing just above the water, like a ship keel upwards, perhaps not approving of our looks, or possibly not seeing us, slipped down, clean out of sight, leaving only a monstrous whirlpool of oily-looking water, in the vortex of which we continued whirling round for some time, like great ninnies as we were, and gaping about us. At this time, we were not above half a ship’s length from the Leander; so that our disappointment caused considerable amusement on board, and the people came laughing down from the rigging, where they had been perched, to see the grand fight between the whale and the young gentlemen! As we were lying on our oars, and somewhat puzzled what to do next, we beheld one of the most extraordinary sights in the world;—at least I do not remember to have seen many things which have surprised me so much, or made a deeper impression on my memory. Our friend the whale, probably finding the water disagreeably shallow—for, as I have said, it was not above fifty or sixty feet deep—or perhaps provoked at not being able to disentangle himself from the sharp coral reefs, or for some other reason of pleasure or of pain,—suddenly made a spring out of the water.