By daybreak next morning the islands were out of sight, for the
wind had risen to a gale, which, although we carried little sail,
drove us along before it some seven or eight knots an hour.

Two days afterwards we caught another whale of medium size,
making us fifty-four barrels of oil. As nothing out of the
ordinary course marked the capture, it is unnecessary to do more
than allude to it in passing, except to note that the honours
were all with Goliath. He happened to be close to the whale when
it rose, and immediately got fast. So dexterous and swift were
his actions that before any of the other boats could "chip in" he
had his fish "fin out," the whole affair from start to finish
only occupying a couple of hours. We were now in the chosen
haunts of the great albatross, Cape pigeons, and Cape hens, but
never in my life had I imagined such a concourse of them as now
gathered around us. When we lowered there might have been
perhaps a couple of dozen birds in sight, but no sooner was the
whale dead than from out of the great void around they began to
drift towards us. Before we had got him fast alongside, the
numbers of that feathered host were incalculable. They
surrounded us until the sea surface was like a plain of snow, and
their discordant cries were deafening. With the exception of one
peculiar-looking bird, which has received from whalemen the
inelegant name of "stinker," none of them attempted to alight
upon the body of the dead monster. This bird, however, somewhat
like a small albatross, but of dirty-grey colour, and with a
peculiar excrescence on his beak, boldly took his precarious
place upon the carcase, and at once began to dig into the
blubber. He did not seem to make much impression, but he