He did not go deep enough to take out all our line, although he came near it; but we held him there, with the bow of the boat pulled down within a foot of the water, the stern raised a little, and every other sea breaking into the boat, which kept Kane and me bailing. Mr. Tilton came up, and he and Mr. Brown thought the whale done for; virtually dead. The whale did not rise, and at last Mr. Tilton pulled for the ship, which was coming up pretty fast, to get a new line. Still we waited. The whale did not move. Mr. Tilton had boarded the ship, got his line, and shoved off again. We began to wonder if it was a dead whale that we had at the end of that line, and we all relaxed. The whale had been down an hour, and Mr. Tilton was not halfway to us, when the bow was suddenly released, and the stern fell back gently, with a little splash. The strain on the line had eased, and he was coming up. How fast he was coming, and {308} where he would rise were questions of some interest, but no more than that. He was a dead whale, or as good as dead. I was aroused to something more than interest by the rasp of the whale’s teeth against the boat, and his jaw shot into the air, it seemed to me for fifty feet. As it passed me, I saw the tip of the jaw was curled around into a tight spiral. That spiral jaw fascinated me. I could not keep my eyes off it, and I did not think of the boat spade. There was no time to use it, anyway, even if I had thought of it. The whale had the boat fairly in his mouth, between the tub and the after oar, and he lost no time in closing, biting it cleanly in two. The water rushed in upon me, still sitting at my oar. I saw the stern sheets fall square with the whale’s snout, and Mr. Brown step off upon it and dive. Then the water closed over me for an instant; but I had not let go my oar, and I came to the surface, sputtering, and hugging the oar close. I do not remember that I was frightened, but my whole attention was occupied, and I did not know what was happening to the others, nor to myself, until I found myself on the bottom of the forward half of the boat. I have often wondered just how I got there. As soon as I was in a condition to observe anything, I saw the whale feebly butting the stern of the boat from side to side, about fifteen feet away, while Black Man’el and Mr. Brown were swimming, Man’el as if he were hurt. I saw Mr. Brown help Man’el to the steering oar, which still swung there, and then the whale turned to our half of the boat. His butts were so feeble—no more than gentle pushes—that we had no difficulty in holding on; and, after pushing us about for two or three minutes, he very simply rolled over upon his side, fin out.