that the enormous narwhal had come to take breath at the surface
of the water, the air was engulfed in its lungs, like the steam
in the vast cylinders of a machine of two thousand horse-power.

"Hum!" thought I, "a whale with the strength of a cavalry regiment
would be a pretty whale!"

We were on the qui vive till daylight, and prepared for the combat.
The fishing implements were laid along the hammock nettings.
The second lieutenant loaded the blunder busses, which could throw harpoons
to the distance of a mile, and long duck-guns, with explosive bullets,
which inflicted mortal wounds even to the most terrible animals.
Ned Land contented himself with sharpening his harpoon--a terrible weapon
in his hands.

At six o'clock day began to break; and, with the first glimmer
of light, the electric light of the narwhal disappeared.
At seven o'clock the day was sufficiently advanced, but a very thick sea
fog obscured our view, and the best spy glasses could not pierce it.
That caused disappointment and anger.

I climbed the mizzen-mast. Some officers were already perched
on the mast-heads. At eight o'clock the fog lay heavily
on the waves, and its thick scrolls rose little by little.
The horizon grew wider and clearer at the same time.
Suddenly, just as on the day before, Ned Land's voice was heard:

"The thing itself on the port quarter!" cried the harpooner.

Every eye was turned towards the point indicated. There, a mile and a half