Twice before, during the voyage, Captain Gamans had commanded a boat, and each time had been unsuccessful. There was a little fun among the men over the captain’s failure—of course, with themselves—and I happened to hear a remark one day from Silva which made me believe that the officers had a little fun also, among themselves, at the captain’s expense. I have the impression that the captain wanted to make good, for on this day he decided to go in the boat. There were several bowheads in sight, and rather far off. Our men pulled away lustily, but when we were pretty near a big fellow, shy and sly, like all of his kind, down he went, and when he came up the signal from the ship showed him so far away that we gave up the chase. Two other boats were in pursuit of whales, and they, too, were unsuccessful, while the fourth boat made fast to a bowhead. Then there was a commotion in the boat, the men moving around quickly as if something had happened. Lakeum said, “It’s the captain’s boat. I hope he hasn’t had any more bad luck. It looks to me as if they have cut the line. I hope nobody’s hurt. We’ll make for her.” And so we did, while the two unsuccessful boats put back to the ship. When we came up, the captain told us that they had hardly struck when there was a kink in the line, and they immediately cut the warp. “But,” he exclaimed, “there are two irons in him, and there is nothing to do but chase him up. The whale didn’t sound for a long period and the direction he took was to wind’rd.” There was no stepping the mast and setting the sail, so the men in the two boats tugged away at the oars. We pursuers were soon outdistanced. Our own ship had not been able to work to windward, and so had to beat her way in the direction we were taking. As Lakeum pushed on my oar, he said, “These bowheads are so shy and cunning you are only sure of them when they are cut-in and stowed down. It may be that fellow will hold up till we reach him, but I should feel more satisfied if it was a sperm.” We had been pulling for an hour or more, and we were tired and, I think, pretty cross, when Lakeum said, “There’s a boat clear ahead, and, as far as I can see, it’s fast to a whale.” This was encouraging, if the whale were the one the captain’s boat had lost. But what chance was there? I think if it had been put to vote, our men would have voted that the chase was a foolish one. But it wasn’t a foolish one. Even sailors are often mistaken as to things which happen on the sea. Our boat was just a little ahead of the captain’s and when we arrived the whale was in the last flurry and soon rolled over. Captain Gamans was an assertive man, and was never much troubled with modesty. “That whale belongs to me,” he shouted. It had seemed to me that the captain took some risk in his assertion, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Guess again,” said the mate of the other boat. “You’ll find two fresh harpoons in him, with the cypher of my ship on them,” insisted Gamans.