"In less than half an hour the stricken monster rose to the surface about a quarter of a mile distant, and set off at a good ten knots an hour, towing the two boats after him, for the mate had bent his line on to mine. Suddenly he stopped and commenced plunging furiously, lashing the water into a boiling foam, and spurting jets of blood from his blow-holes--a sign of approaching death. [Apertures or nostrils placed on the highest part of a whale's head, through which he breathes.] "`He's in his flurry! Stern all! stern all!' was the cry, and quickly we backed our boats out of harm's way. Soon the whale ceased his struggles and lay like a huge log on the bloodstained water, apparently exhausted; then once more we dashed forward, and as the boats came alongside, the mate and I thrust our lances up to the stocks into his carcass, close to the fin. "Alas, in our eagerness to make sure of our prize we forgot our usual caution! The leviathan was not yet vanquished, but still had sufficient life left in him to make one final effort to avenge himself on his relentless foes! "Without a moment's warning the dying whale reared his enormous head and rushed open-mouthed at the mate's boat, which, unable to avoid the charge, was capsized and sunk; then the monster gave one last mighty plunge, and with a stroke of his powerful tail sent my boat flying into the air, scattering the crew into the foaming water. "The mate, his boat-steerer, and one man must have gone down at once, but the others saved themselves by clinging to their oars. My boat's crew were even more unfortunate, for I alone escaped; the rest were either killed when the whale struck us, or else sank to rise no more. I thus lost, literally at one blow, my poor friend Angus McDougal, and seven of my best hands; also two boats with all their gear. "The accident had been witnessed by the other boats, and the boatswain at once pulled for the scene of the mishap and picked us up. "About six weeks after this disaster sickness broke out in the _Sea-mew_. The carpenter and the carpenter's wife were the first who succumbed; the cook and one of the oldest boat-steerers were the next victims, and several of the crew sickened, but recovered after laying many days in the `sickbay' almost at death's door. "We were now so short-handed, and the survivors of the crew were so discontented and mutinous, that I resolved to abandon the cruise and make for some port where I might be able to pick up fresh hands to help take the ship home, and accordingly I shaped my course for Table Bay. But my cup of misfortune was not yet full. "A fortnight after doubling Cape Horn a stiff gale got up, and increased in fury until it developed into one of the most fearful storms that it has ever been my lot to cope with.