Had it fled?
One could only fear, not hope it.

But at seven minutes to one o'clock in the morning a deafening whistling was heard, like that produced by a body of water rushing with great violence.
The captain, Ned Land, and I were then on the poop, eagerly peering through the profound darkness.
"Ned Land," asked the commander, "you have often heard the roaring of whales ?" "Often, sir; but never such whales the sight of which brought me in two thousand dollars.

If I can only approach within four harpoons' length of it!" "But to approach it," said the commander, "I ought to put a whaler at your disposal ?" "Certainly, sir." "That will be trifling with the lives of my men." "And mine too," simply said the harpooner.
Towards two o'clock in the morning, the burning light reappeared, not less intense, about five miles to windward of the Abraham Lincoln.
Notwithstanding the distance, and the noise of the wind and sea, one heard distinctly the loud strokes of the animal's tail, and even its panting breath.

It seemed that, at the moment 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.