We were not always to have that kind of luck. A week later we raised whales again. Mr. Baker and Mr. Brown lowered at once, and after about half an hour, when more whales had come to the surface, Mr. Tilton and Mr. Wallet. Mr. Baker struck almost immediately. His whale was rather a small one which happened to rise just ahead {149} of the boat, and Macy got both irons fast. The whale then started to run under water, coming to the surface now and then to spout. He ran so hard that it was impossible to pull up for lancing, and they were unable even to hold all they had, and had to give him line. He was heading for Montevideo, and passed out of sight with Mr. Baker in the bow, holding a useless lance, and swearing volubly, I have no doubt; and with Macy holding hard at the steering oar, and the boat throwing a small cataract of spray from either side. Meanwhile a second whale had risen some distance ahead of Mr. Brown. They pulled hard for it, a much longer pull than Mr. Baker’s. When Mr. Baker was well on his way to the coast of South America, and I turned my glass on Mr. Brown’s boat, he had succeeded in getting near the unsuspecting whale, approaching from behind. The whale had just become aware of it—he had not seen it, but probably he had heard it—and was preparing to see about having something done about it. What that would have been I was never to find out, for the boatsteerer was just taking in his oar. The boatsteerer was Starbuck, an energetic Nantucketer from Mr. Tilton’s boat, who had been given Wright’s place over the head of Black Tony—the Prince—to my disappointment. I think most of the men would have been glad to see the Prince get it. The officers would have been glad, too; but the Prince was as black as the ace of spades. That fact stuck in their crops. It always does, whatever may be said; and, although there was no serious objection to a black boatsteerer, that would be the end of promotion for him, while Starbuck was one of themselves, and would go as high as his natural ability would take him. Well, Starbuck was just taking in his oar. They were very close, and he had no time to get his breath after his hard pull, but must throw the harpoon at once; and it was his first whale, and he was undoubtedly nervous. The {150} consequence was that he did not make a good dart, and although the harpoon struck, it was not thrown hard enough, and only the barb penetrated. His second iron missed altogether.