eight o'clock in the evening
We , accordingly , continued to advance . The nearer we come , the loftier is the spouting water . What monster can fill himself with such huge volumes of water , and then unceasingly spout them out in such lofty jets ? At eight o'clock in the evening , reckoning as above ground , where there is day and night , we are not more than two leagues from the mighty beast . Its long , black , enormous , mountainous body , lies on the top of the water like an island . But then sailors have been said to have gone ashore on sleeping whales , mistaking them for land . Is it illusion , or is it fear ?