We were rolling along easily in a light westerly breeze when Alexander, a Kanaka from Mr. Tilton’s boat, sounded his falsetto cry from the foremasthead. It was early in the forenoon, and I was busy below; but I heard the quick patter of feet on deck, and I knew what it meant. So I dropped everything just where I stood, and ran up. I happened to see the spout at once, a beautiful, light, feathery thing in the bright sunlight, more like the drooping ostrich plume than ever. There was but the one spout, repeated lazily at intervals, although the others of the pod, if there were others, might have sounded, and be feeding. The volume of the spout and the force with which it was expelled, as well as the interval between spouts, indicated a full-grown bull. The whale had been sighted off the port bow, and was now nearly abeam of us, going slowly to the westward, and making a course which took him nearer to the ship as {126} he went on. Mr. Brown was already away, with the light westerly breeze abeam, to head him off. Mr. Wallet, as usual, was some minutes longer in getting his sail up, and in getting under way. He headed still more to the westward. We began to wear ship, and to change our course to follow them. The boats went on, getting nearer the course of the whale, which continued to swim with great deliberation. He seemed to be bent upon getting nowhere in particular, and likely to achieve his purpose. By the time the ship had got on her new course Mr. Brown had already taken in his sail and got his mast down, and the men were paddling until the whale should discover them. Mr. Wallet should have done the same thing. He was near enough; but he delayed, as he did invariably, a little too long. Just after he had given the order, and while his men were busy with the mast,—they had made a little more noise than necessary, perhaps,—the whale saw them, no doubt imperfectly. He hesitated for an instant, then raised his flukes and lobtailed, the blow on the water making a noise which sounded, to us on the ship, like the report of a big gun, and raised a cataract of spray and green water. This drenched the men in Mr. Brown’s boat, who had paddled up on him from behind and were trying to get into position to sink their irons just behind the side fin. Wright was standing in the bow, a harpoon in his hands, and the boat was just even with the flukes. I saw the men suddenly give way hard—they had no time to change to their oars; then the whale started for Mr. Wallet’s boat, and Wright let go both his irons, getting both fast, but well back toward the small instead of near the side fin, where he had hoped to place them.