216 WHALING 



leaped into him feet first, knocked him sprawHng, and left him 

 there in the moonhght. 



The next morning Len went to the consul for help. He got 

 it, too, which is more, for the consul hid him until the ship sailed. 

 It was never the custom of consuls to harbour runaway sailors; 

 they were far more likely to pursue such fugitives and deliver 

 them into the hands of irate skippers, who took unholy pleasure 

 in drawing on a man's wages, in accordance with the articles, to 

 pay the officers; so there is a pleasing mystery about this incident 

 in the story, and a mystery it must remain, for I know of no 

 one living who can explain it. 



Len Sanford never recovered his chest or his outfit, but in 

 1857, under Consul William Miles, he became secretary of our 

 consulate at Callao; and in 1858, under Consul Fayette M. 

 Ringgold, he became secretary of the consulate at Paita. 



Off Paita ranged ''Paita Tom," one of the famous "lone 

 whales," as those morose, solitary bulls were called that lived 

 alone like rogue elephants, and fought against all comers. 

 During his stay at Paita, young Sanford saw the death of old 

 Tom, who was recognized by a notched, ragged spout and an 

 uncommonly large hump and had established in whaling circles 

 a world-wide reputation as a dangerous old bull. 



At four bells in the afternoon watch, a whaleship was standing 

 in for Paita, when the familiar cry, ''Thar blo-o-o-ows! Blo-o- 

 o-o-o-o-ows!" brought all hands on deck. A large whale lay in 

 plain sight, perhaps a mile away, and two points off the lee 

 bow. 



Instead of giving the usual order, "Haul back the main yard! 

 Hoist and swing!" the captain, closing his glass, said to the 

 mate, "No use to lower, Mr. Malloy. That's Paita Tom. I 

 know the old devil. He smashed two boats and killed a good 

 man for me last voyage. He's sent more men out of Cape Cod 

 to Davy Jones than there's barrels of oil under his black skin. 

 No, no, you precious rascal, you don't juggle a boat down this 

 time. Keep your course and we will ours. Steer small, Mr. 

 Malloy, and leave that chap astern." 



It was the mate's first voyage in the Pacific, and although he 



