"Shows that you have a kind heart, sir, and can shed a tear when it is
touched. I appreciate you for it. There is something manly in the tear
of a brave sailor," returned the officer, coldly, but politely. "We
shall get a good observation to-day, and if the men work hearty all the
spare spars and sails will be up by nightfall." Mr. Higgins's mind was
evidently on his duty, and not being inclined to enjoy the captain's
conversation, he took every opportunity to change the subject.

"Give us your hand, Mr. Higgins," said he, rather unannoyed than
otherwise by what that officer had said. "But look you here!" He lowered
his voice as he took the officer's hand, "There'll be no whales to kill
where that poor fellow has gone. Not a whale. I promised his poor old
father--a good old red coat killer he was, too, in the Revolution--that
this here son of his should kill the first whale. Yes, I did, Mr.
Higgins. And that's what mortifies me. He's dead, you see, poor fellow.
T'was'nt my fault that I did'nt keep my promise. There'll be no whales
to kill where he's gone, poor fellow!" Again he shook his head
feelingly, then raising his hat, wiped the sweat from his bronzed brow.

He now sent for Tite, who came upon the quarter-deck nervously, and
saluted his superior. "Well, my hearty," said Captain Bottom, "here's my
hand. You're a sailor, every inch on you. And a brave man, too, if
Captain Bottom does say it." Tite was not a little surprised at this
familiarity on the part of his captain, for he had before coming on
board been led to believe that the most severe discipline ruled on board
a whale ship.

"There's the true sailor in you, my hearty," continued the captain,
again shaking Tite warmly by the hand. "You saved the ship, my hearty.