There was not the slightest effort made to get Silver back. Indeed, there was no chance unless the ship had been delayed for some days, for that was our last sight of the Seychelles. We stood away to the northward for the Arabian Sea, to cruise around there for some weeks, mostly in the northern part. One thing that Silver’s desertion {242} did for me was to restore me to Mr. Brown’s boat. Smith was given Silver’s oar in Mr. Snow’s boat, whether at Mr. Brown’s request or not I did not know, but I thought not. It was not like Mr. Brown to make such a request, although he must have been glad of the change, even if Smith did pull a better oar than I. The vacancy in Mr. Macy’s boat ever since Silvia’s desertion at Cape Town had been filled by the sailmaker, who continued to fill it without much grumbling. It was hot up there in the Arabian Sea, with the wind mostly from the northward—from the land—and many days of calm weather. There was no bad weather to speak of. We sighted spouts some half-dozen times, chased without result every time but two, hard pulling in a temperature that made the sweat pour off the men in rivers—except Smith. He seemed to be immune to any temperature that could be raised, and laughed at the men for sweating so. Mr. Snow’s opinion of him could only be guessed, but he seemed to have a great and growing respect for him, and he did not so much as bat an eyelid at him. This may have been due in part to his reputation as a thrower of a knife; a reputation which clung to him and which could not be ignored. You thought of it at once whenever you thought of Smith; could not dissociate the man from his reputation. He rapidly became a favorite, and there was no reason why he should not. He was a superlatively good man in a boat, especially in that climate; he was always respectful, and while he was no boot-licker, he never forgot the deference which Snow liked. Snow was a little man, little in nature as in stature; and I have found little men to be generally more rigidly insistent upon the outward observance of forms than bigger men. There seems to be something in mere size which tends to a greater serenity, and to a scorn for such forms. So Snow was quite satisfied with outward observance. {243} We got three whales there, of moderate size. There was nothing remarkable about their capture, and they were put fin out with no more trouble than shooting a steer in a stall at Brighton. Two of them were alongside at one time, and sharks were so plentiful and so voracious—they are always that—that it was all we could do to save any of the blubber from the second whale. They had it almost stripped before we could get at it, in spite of our best efforts.