THE NIGHT KING 75 



no particular ignominy in the thing, either, for 

 it was merely a joke to the sailors. The sting of 

 it was in having to take such treatment from this 

 small colored person without being able to resent 

 it or help myself. 



The very next morning I was awakened by 

 the cry of the lookout on the topsail yard. 



"Blow! Blow! There's his old head. 

 Bio — o — o — w! There he ripples. There goes 

 flukes." Full-lunged and clear, the musical cry 

 came from aloft like a song with little yodling 

 breaks in the measure. It was the view-halloo 

 jof the sea, and it quickened the blood and set 

 the nerves tingling. 



" iWhere away? " shouted the captain, rushing 

 from the cabin with his binoculars. 



" Two points on the .weather bow, sir," re- 

 turned the lookout. 



For a moment nothing was to be seen but an 

 expanse of yeasty sea. Suddenly into the air 

 shot a fountain of white water — slender, grace- 

 ful, spreading into a bush of spray at the top. 

 A great sperm was disporting among the >vhite 

 caps. 



