covered with long barnacles as to give the monster a most eerie look.  One of the Portuguese expressed his decided opinion that we had caught Davy Jones himself, and that, in consequence, we should have no more accidents.  It was impossible not to sympathize with the conceit, for of all the queer-looking monstrosities ever seen, this latest acquisition of ours would have taken high honours.  Such malformations of the lower mandible of the cachalot have often been met with, and variously explained; but the most plausible opinion seems to be that they have been acquired when the animal is very young and its bones not yet indurated, since it is impossible to believe that an adult could suffer such an accident without the broken jaw drooping instead of being turned on one side.

The yield of oil was distressingly scanty, the whale being what is technically known as a “dry skin.”  The blubber was so hard and tough that we could hardly cut it up for boiling, and altogether it was one of the most disappointing affairs we had yet dealt with.  This poorness of blubber was, to my mind, undoubtedly due to the difficulty the animal must have had in obtaining food with his disabling defect of jaw.  Whatever it was, we were heartily glad to see the last of the beast, fervently hoping we should never meet with another like him.

During the progress of these melancholy operations we had drifted a considerable distance out of our course, no attention being paid, as usual, to the direction of our drift until the greasy work was done.  Once the mess was cleared away, we hauled up again for our objective—­Futuna—­which, as it was but a few hours’ sail distant, we hoped to make the next day.

*

CHAPTER XXIII

AT FUTUNA, RECRUITING

Sure enough, in accordance with our expectations, break of day revealed the twin masses of Futuna ahead, some ten or fifteen miles away.  With the fine, steady breeze blowing, by breakfast-time we were off the entrance to a pretty bight, where sail was shortened and the ship hove-to.  Captain Count did not intend to anchor, for reasons of his own, he being assured that there was no need to do so.  Nor was there.  Although the distance from the beach was considerable, we could see numbers of canoes putting off, and soon they began to arrive.  Now, some of the South Sea Islands are famous for the elegance and seaworthiness of their canoes; nearly all of them have a distinctly definite style of canoe-building; but here at Futuna was a bewildering collection of almost every type of canoe in the wide world.  Dugouts, with outriggers on one side, on both sides, with none at all; canoes built like boats, like prams, like irregular egg-boxes, many looking like the first boyish attempt to knock something together that would float; and—­not to unduly prolong the list by attempted classification of these unclassed craft—­coracles.