We now, for a few days, turned our attention to fishing on a somewhat different scale than we had been. It is a peculiarity of the Japan sperm-whale fishing-ground that ships are surrounded nearly the whole season by albicore and bonita. These fish are easily caught in the following manner: the fisherman seats himself upon the weather rail, first provided with a line and hook, the _bait_ consisting of a small piece of white rag. This is fastened to the back of the hook in a peculiar manner, so as to resemble a pair of wings as much as possible. Then skimming the hook thus baited along the surface of the water as the ship goes through it, the foolish albicore or bonita sees it, and, thinking to make a meal off some unlucky flying-fish, makes a leap for it, and finds himself immediately landed upon deck. Often have we sat thus, and hauled them in as fast as we could drop the line and disengage the hook. As we before remarked, all hands, for two or three days, turned our attention to this kind of fishing, and we soon had about fifty barrels of them cleaned and salted for “liberty money” in the Sandwich Islands: they there command the highest price. [Illustration] As there must be a “_first time_ for every thing,” so, we suppose, there must be a “last time” also. We had had our “first lowering,” and the time had now arrived when, we hoped, we were to have our “last.” The captain had informed us that, “just as soon as we got one hundred and fifty barrels more, we could sing ‘Homeward Bound.’” No one was dull now at masthead; all eyes were open; and the mastheads were double manned with volunteers every day. Not long was it to be before our wishes were gratified. On the morning of Friday, September 2, at about 8 o’clock, the old cry—never before so welcome—“T-h-e-r-e s-h-e b-l-o-w-s!” broke forth. The excitement that ensued beggars description. The day was beautiful; the whales were to leeward; and a nice breeze was sending us slowly through the water. Every circumstance was in our favor. The men knew the conditions of our being able to soon point our ship’s head homeward. We were now nearly four years from home. Many of us had heard no word—not even a _word_—from the dear friends we left behind. Every man looked “whale” as he stepped into the boat, and our young fourth mate—a boy in years, but a _man_ in soul—said to his crew as he left the ship, “Boys, you need not expect to put foot upon the Emily’s decks again till we have drawn the claret from one of those fellows.” And they did not. In less than two hours after lowering, two more of the leviathans of the deep had ceased to live. They were brought alongside and secured. The captain now called all hands aft, and complimented them upon the day’s success, proposed three cheers, which were given, and which made the old ship ring again: “And now,” said he, “let us have their jackets in on deck as soon as possible.”