A tiny trout, hooked through the head and thrown back into the pool, will sometimes race in desperate circles, battering helplessly against the bank, the bottom of the pool, the sunken logs.... Thus this monstrous creature now swam; a circle that centered about the boat where Noll and the others watched; that tore the water and flung it in on them. Faster and faster, till it seemed his great heart must burst with his own labors. And at the end, flung half clear of the water, threw his vast bulk forward, surged idly ahead, slowly.... Was still. Noll cried: "Fin out, by God. He's dead...." A big whale, as big as most whalemen ever see, the biggest Noll himself had ever slain. A fitting thing; for old Noll Wing had driven his last lance. He was tired; he showed it when Brander gave the whale to Willis for towing back to the ship, and raced for the _Sally_ with Noll panting in the bow. The fire was dying in the captain's eyes; he pulled Brander's coat about his great shoulders and huddled into it. He scarce moved when they reached the _Sally_. Brander helped him aboard. Dan'l Tobey cried: "A great fight, sir. Six hours; and two stove boats.... But you killed." Noll wagged his old head, looked around for Faith, leaned heavily upon her arm. "Take me down, Faith," he said. "Take me down. For I am very tired." XIX One-eyed Mauger sought out Brander three days later. Brander had been decent to him from the beginning; and Mauger, who had been changed from a venomous and evil thing into a cacklingly cheerful nonentity by Noll Wing's blow and kick, repaid Brander with a devotion almost inhuman. He sought out Brander three days later.... That is to say, he made occasion, during the work of scrubbing up after Noll's last whale, to come to Brander's feet; and while he toiled at the planking of the deck there, he looked up at the fourth mate and nodded significantly. Brander understood the one-eyed man; he asked: "What's wrong, Mauger?" His tone was friendly. Mauger chuckled mirthlessly, deprecatingly. "Don't want you should git mad," he protested. Brander shook his head, his eyes sobering. "Of course not. What is it?" "There's chatter, forward," said Mauger. "They're talking dirt." Brander's voice fell. "Who?" "Slatter was th' first. Others now. Dirt." Brander looked about the deck; there was no one within hearing. He asked quietly: "What kind of dirt?" Mauger looked up and grinned unhappily and apologetically. "You know," he said. "You and--her...." Brander's eyes hardened; he said, under his breath: "Thanks, Mauger." And he walked away from where the one-eyed man was scrubbing. Mauger rose on his knees to look after the fourth mate with something like worship in his eyes.