In fact, the water-spout, that is, that column of vapor and water which the whale throws back by its rents, would attract Captain Hull’s attention, and fix it on the species to which this cetacean belonged.

“That is not a ‘right’ whale,” cried he.  “Its water-spout would be at once higher and of a smaller volume.  On the other hand, if the noise made by that spout in escaping could be compared to the distant noise of a cannon, I should be led to believe that that whale belongs to the species of ‘humpbacks;’ but there is nothing of the kind, and, on listening, we are assured that this noise is of quite a different nature.  What is your opinion on this subject, Dick?” asked Captain Hull, turning toward the novice.

“I am ready to believe, captain,” replied Dick Sand, “that we have to do with a jubarte.  See how his rents throw that column of liquid violently into the air.  Does it not seem to you also—­which would confirm my idea—­that that spout contains more water than condensed vapor?  And, if I am not mistaken, it is a special peculiarity of the jubarte.”

“In fact, Dick,” replied Captain Hull, “there is no longer any doubt possible!  It is a jubarte which floats on the surface of these red waters.”

“That’s fine,” cried little Jack.

“Yes, my boy! and when we think that the great beast is there, in process of breakfasting, and little suspecting that the whalers are watching it.”

“I would dare to affirm that it is a jubarte of great size,” observed Dick Sand.

“Truly,” replied Captain Hull, who was gradually becoming more excited.  “I think it is at least seventy feet long!”

“Good!” added the boatswain.  “Half a dozen whales of that size would suffice to fill a ship as large as ours!”

“Yes, that would be sufficient,” replied Captain Hull, who mounted on the bowsprit to see better.

“And with this one,” added the boatswain, “we should take on board in a few hours the half of the two hundred barrels of oil which we lack.”

“Yes!—­truly—­yes!” murmured Captain Hull.

“That is true,” continued Dick Sand; “but it is sometimes a hard matter to attack those enormous jubartes!”

“Very hard, very hard!” returned Captain Hull.  “Those baloenopters have formidable tails, which must not be approached without distrust.  The strongest pirogue would not resist a well-given blow.  But, then, the profit is worth the trouble!”

“Bah!” said one of the sailors, “a fine jubarte is all the same a fine capture!”

“And profitable!” replied another.

“It would be a pity not to salute this one on the way!”

It was evident that these brave sailors were growing excited in looking at the whale.  It was a whole cargo of barrels of oil that was floating within reach of their hands.  To hear them, without doubt there was nothing more to be done, except to stow those barrels in the “Pilgrim’s” hold to complete her lading.  Some of the sailors, mounted on the ratlines of the fore-shrouds, uttered longing cries.  Captain Hull, who no longer spoke, was in a dilemma.  There was something there, like an irresistible magnet, which attracted the “Pilgrim” and all her crew.