“Spread yourselves,” cried Ahab; “give way, all four boats.

Thou, Flask, pull out more to leeward!”

“Aye, aye, sir,” cheerily cried little King-Post, sweeping round his great steering oar. “Lay back!” addressing his crew. “There! — there! — there again! There she blows right ahead, boys! — lay back!”

“Never heed yonder yellow boys, Archy.”

“Oh, I don’t mind ’em, sir,” said Archy; “I knew it all before now.

Didn’t I hear ’em in the hold? And didn’t I tell Cabaco here of it? What say ye, Cabaco? They are stowaways, Mr. Flask.”