We edged cautiously toward the whale, Mr. Brown keeping out of his range of vision, and Mr. Macy creeping up on his other side. Mr. Macy fired another bomb into him before the Prince could dart or lance. He was prepared to do either, but at the report of Mr. Macy’s gun, Mr. Brown told him to use our gun. The whale had given a little convulsive shiver on receiving the bomb, but there was no other result, although the bomb must have exploded in his in’ards somewhere, as must the other three that Hall had sent into him. The Prince fired twice, and Mr. Macy once more, which exhausted his stock of bombs; but the whale did not relax his attentions to the cask, which seemed to exert a peculiar fascination. All this time he was butting it, and it was responding with a _Ping-g!_ and a leap into the air. Suddenly he caught sight of the ship, which had borne down upon us, and was pretty near. He left the cask, headed for her, and went under. We could do nothing but watch. After butting the ship, the whale must have come up on the other side of her, for the men on deck ran over to that side. A few seconds later I heard the reports of whaling guns—they are not to be mistaken—and then more, and Mr. Brown and Mr. Macy proceeded quietly to {341} gathering in the swimming crews, who had been in the water about an hour. We did not take the stove boats and their gear on that trip, but pulled at once to the ship. On getting to her we found the whale dead alongside, right in position, and the men getting the fluke chain ready. He had had eleven bombs exploded in him; but what finished him was the thorough lancing by Captain Coffin, who had got out on the wales, held on by the main chains, leaned out and pumped his lance up and down in his life. The bombs must have done their work after a fashion, for before he was lanced the whale had vomited up a great number of pieces of cuttle fish. Among the pieces of squid were the remnants of a shark of good size. All the fragments had not disappeared when we got there. Poor Peter, wet as he was, and the sailmaker had to go at once into the hold to see what damage had been done. They were down there three hours, but could find no damage, and the ship was not leaking more than she did before, which was but a few strokes a day, and just enough to keep her sweet—if a whaler can be called sweet. The whale must have struck square upon the keel, not with full force. Meanwhile we pulled back again, got the stove boats and their gear, and pulled to the ship. More work for Peter. But that whale tried out over ninety barrels.