FAREWELL TO VAU VAU. 287 



our feelings, it might have been two or three nights long. 

 Still, to all things an end, so in the midst of our dogged 

 endurance of all this misery we felt the pace give, and 

 took heart of grace immediately. Calling up all our 

 reserves, we hauled up on to him, regardless of pain or 

 weariness. The skipper and mate lost no opportunities 

 of lancing, once they were alongside, but worked like 

 heroes, until a final plunging of the fast-dying leviathan 

 warned us to retreat. Up he went out of the glittering 

 foam into the upper darkness, while we held our breath 

 at the unique sight of a whale breaching at night. But 

 when he fell again, the effect was marvellous. Green 

 columns of water arose on either side of the descending 

 mass as if from the bowels of the deep, while their ghostly 

 glare lit up the encircling gloom with a strange, weird 

 radiance, which, reflected in our anxious faces, made us 

 look like an expedition from the Flying Dutchman. A 

 short spell of gradually-quieting struggle succeeded as 

 the great beast succumbed, until all was still again, 

 except the strange, low surge made by the waves as they 

 broke over the bank of flesh passively obstructing their 

 free sweep. 



"While the final touch was being given to our task — 

 i.e. the hole-boring through the tail-fin — all hands lay 

 around in various picturesque attitudes, enjoying a 

 refreshing smoke, care forgetting. While thus pleasantly 

 employed, sudden death, like a bolt from the blue, leapt 

 into our midst in a terrible form. The skipper was 

 labouring hard at his task of cutting the hole for the 

 tow-line, when without warning the great fin swung back 

 as if suddenly released from tremendous tension. 

 Happily for us, the force of the blow was broken by 

 its direction, as it struck the water before reaching the 

 boat's side, but the upper lobe hurled the boat-spade 



