that accustomed old cry have derived such a marvellous cadence as from Tashtego the Indian's. As he stood hovering over you half suspended in air, so wildly and eagerly peering towards the horizon, you would have thought him some prophet or seer beholding the shadows of Fate, and by those wild cries announcing their coming. "There she blows! there! there! there! she blows! she blows!" "Where-away?" "On the lee-beam, about two miles off! a school of them!" Instantly all was commotion. The Sperm Whale blows as a clock ticks, with the same undeviating and
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