The baronet was the first to fire. He had selected for his victim a huge bull, fully eighty feet in length, and this creature he patiently watched, hoping for an opportunity to inflict a fatal wound. It soon came. The animal rolled lazily over on its right side, exposing the whole of its left fin, and before it could recover itself Sir Reginald had levelled and discharged his piece. There was a very faint puff of thin fleecy vapour, but no report or sound of any kind save the by no means loud click of the hammer, above which could be distinctly heard the dull thud of the shell. The whale shuddered visibly at the blow, and made as though about to "sound" or dive; but before it had power to do so the shell must have exploded, for the immense creature made a sudden violent writhing motion, half leapt out of the water, and rolled over on its side, dead. The professor scored the next success, closely followed by the colonel, Lieutenant Mildmay signalising his first essay with the new arm by making a palpable miss, much to his disgust. His failure, however, taught him a valuable lesson, and he succeeded in killing two whales before either of the others had been able to secure another shot. In ten minutes eight whales had been killed, and the professor, who was very rigid in his objection to the wanton sacrifice of life, then suggested that probably as many had been killed as the whaler could successfully deal with at one time, especially as the boats now had signals flying which showed that each had killed her fish. The _Flying Fish_ was accordingly ranged up close alongside the _Walrus_, and the baronet hailed: "_Walrus_ ahoy! how many fish can you `cut in' at one operation?" "I wish I had the chance of trying my hand upon half a dozen," was the reply, given, the baronet thought, in rather a sulky tone. "Well," returned Sir Reginald, "there are eight which we have killed and three taken by your boats, making eleven altogether. Can you handle any more? because, if so, we will kill them for you; but, if not, we think it best not to disturb them further." "Do you mean to say that you've killed those fish on my account, then?" asked Hudson with great animation. "To be sure we did. You surely did not suppose that we wanted them for ourselves, did you?" The whaling skipper muttered a few unintelligible words to himself, and then shouted back in unmistakably hearty tones: "Thank'ee, gentlemen, thank'ee with all my heart. That's another favour I'm in your debt. That being the case, I think, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather that the rest of the school be left to go their ways in peace. I don't want them to be frightened; and eleven fish is as much as we can well handle at one time." "In that case, then," returned Sir Reginald, "we will wish you `Good- bye,' and a prosperous voyage." "Thank'ee, gentlemen; the same to you, and best thanks for all favours," replied Hudson.