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However
,
it
must
be
said
in
praise
of
the
Abraham
Lincoln
that
she
struggled
on
indefatigably
.
I
can
not
reckon
the
distance
she
made
under
three
hundred
miles
during
this
unlucky
day
,
November
the
6th
.
But
night
came
on
,
and
overshadowed
the
rough
ocean
.
Now
I
thought
our
expedition
was
at
an
end
,
and
that
we
should
never
again
see
the
extraordinary
animal
.
I
was
mistaken
.
At
ten
minutes
to
eleven
in
the
evening
,
the
electric
light
reappeared
three
miles
to
windward
of
the
frigate
,
as
pure
,
as
intense
as
during
the
preceding
night
.
The
narwhal
seemed
motionless
;
perhaps
,
tired
with
its
day
's
work
,
it
slept
,
letting
itself
float
with
the
undulation
of
the
waves
.
Now
was
a
chance
of
which
the
captain
resolved
to
take
advantage
.
He
gave
his
orders
.
The
Abraham
Lincoln
kept
up
half
steam
,
and
advanced
cautiously
so
as
not
to
awake
its
adversary
.
It
is
no
rare
thing
to
meet
in
the
middle
of
the
ocean
whales
so
sound
asleep
that
they
can
be
successfully
attacked
,
and
Ned
Land
had
harpooned
more
than
one
during
its
sleep
.
The
Canadian
went
to
take
his
place
again
under
the
bowsprit
.
The
frigate
approached
noiselessly
,
stopped
at
two
cables
'
lengths
from
the
animal
,
and
following
its
track
.
No
one
breathed
;
a
deep
silence
reigned
on
the
bridge
.
We
were
not
a
hundred
feet
from
the
burning
focus
,
the
light
of
which
increased
and
dazzled
our
eyes
.
At
this
moment
,
leaning
on
the
forecastle
bulwark
,
I
saw
below
me
Ned
Land
grappling
the
martingale
in
one
hand
,
brandishing
his
terrible
harpoon
in
the
other
,
scarcely
twenty
feet
from
the
motionless
animal
.
Suddenly
his
arm
straightened
,
and
the
harpoon
was
thrown
;
I
heard
the
sonorous
stroke
of
the
weapon
,
which
seemed
to
have
struck
a
hard
body
.
The
electric
light
went
out
suddenly
,
and
two
enormous
waterspouts
broke
over
the
bridge
of
the
frigate
,
rushing
like
a
torrent
from
stem
to
stern
,
overthrowing
men
,
and
breaking
the
lashings
of
the
spars
.
A
fearful
shock
followed
,
and
,
thrown
over
the
rail
without
having
time
to
stop
myself
,
I
fell
into
the
sea
.
This
unexpected
fall
so
stunned
me
that
I
have
no
clear
recollection
of
my
sensations
at
the
time
.
I
was
at
first
drawn
down
to
a
depth
of
about
twenty
feet
.
I
am
a
good
swimmer
-LRB-
though
without
pretending
to
rival
Byron
or
Edgar
Poe
,
who
were
masters
of
the
art
-RRB-
,
and
in
that
plunge
I
did
not
lose
my
presence
of
mind
.
Two
vigorous
strokes
brought
me
to
the
surface
of
the
water
.
My
first
care
was
to
look
for
the
frigate
.
Had
the
crew
seen
me
disappear
?
Had
the
Abraham
Lincoln
veered
round
?
Would
the
captain
put
out
a
boat
?
Might
I
hope
to
be
saved
?
The
darkness
was
intense
.
I
caught
a
glimpse
of
a
black
mass
disappearing
in
the
east
,
its
beacon
lights
dying
out
in
the
distance
.
It
was
the
frigate
!
I
was
lost
.
"
Help
,
help
!
"
I
shouted
,
swimming
towards
the
Abraham
Lincoln
in
desperation
.
My
clothes
encumbered
me
;
they
seemed
glued
to
my
body
,
and
paralysed
my
movements
.
