Kreelman’s counsel set me to thinking, and as the days went by I weighed the advantages and disadvantages of a whaleman’s life. Then I thought of my mother—how hard it was for her to give me up, and how it pained her to part with me. I was still young, only in my eighteenth year, and the world was all before me. Then and there I determined to say to my mother at our meeting that one voyage was enough, and that I would seek employment on the land. Days passed, and as we neared home the Civil War was a constant subject of conversation. We had, of course, no definite information, so we indulged in conjecture. Late one day we saw smoke many miles astern of us, and we assumed that it came from a burning ship or from a steamer. The smoke increased in volume, and we soon saw that the object, which was apparently pursuing us, was a steamer. Some one said it might be a cruiser. From this inadvertent remark grew the general belief that it was a cruiser. It would soon be dark, and word was given to wet the sails. The water was passed up in buckets and the men worked diligently. The hope was that the darkness would protect us, but that hope was soon abandoned, for our supposed pursuer was fast gaining upon us. After capture the oil would be burned with the ship, but what should be done with the ambergris? It was suggested by some one that it be cut up into small pieces and concealed upon our persons, but there was not time enough to resort to that expedient. Nearer and nearer came the great black object, belching out its clouds of smoke. There was nothing on our part but resignation and also reflection on a wonderful voyage ending in collapse and ruin. When within half a mile of us the steamer veered, and in a short time passed us. They must have seen the old whaler, but she was too insignificant for recognition. The reaction brought relief, and the relief was followed by laughter. On the last day of April we sighted Block Island, and soon a pilot boat made for us. When the pilot boarded us he called out to the captain, “What’s your ambergris worth?” “How’d you know about that?” asked the captain. “Why, all New Bedford is talkin’ about it. They say there’s more interest taken in your voyage than in any other since whalin’ begun. You’ll have a lot of visitors when you drop anchor.” The wind came from the southwest and we made good time, soon reaching the Elizabeth Islands and then passing into the bay. We anchored at about the place from which we had sailed nearly three years before. The sharks at sea were quick to gather round the carcass of a whale; so were the gentlemen on land, of the same name, quick to gather on the deck of our vessel. These were the visitors the pilot referred to. One of them shook me vigorously by the hand, remembered me perfectly, was sure he had fitted me out before I sailed, and would do the right thing by me now, if I would go to his shop.