第64章 "BOWHEAD" FISHING(2)

The resultant oil, when recent, is of a clear white, unlike the golden-tinted fluid obtained from the cachalot.As it grows stale it developes a nauseous smell, which sperm does not, although the odour of the oil is otto of roses compared with the horrible mass of putridity landed from the tanks of a Greenland whaler at the termination of a cruise.For in those vessels, the fishing-time at their disposal being so brief, they do not wait to boil down the blubber, but, chopping it into small pieces, pass it below as it is into tanks, to be rendered down by the oil-mills ashore on the ship's return.

This first bowhead yielded us eighteen tuns of oil and a ton of baleen, which made the catch about equal in value to that of a seven-tun cachalot.But the amount of labour and care necessary in order to thoroughly dry and cleanse the baleen was enormous;in fact, for months after we began the bowhead fishery there was almost always something being done with the wretched stuff--drying, scraping, etc.--which, as it was kept below, also necessitated hoisting it up on deck and getting it down again.

After this beginning, it was again a considerable time before we sighted any more; but when we did, there were quite a number of them--enough to employ all the boats with one each.I was out of the fun this time, being almost incapable of moving by reason of several boils on my legs--the result, I suppose, of a long abstinence from fresh vegetables, or anything to supply their place.

As it happened, however, I lost no excitement by remaining on board; for while all the boats were away a large bowhead rose near the ship, evidently being harassed in some way by enemies, which I could not at first see.He seemed quite unconscious of his proximity to the ship, though, and at last came so near that the whole performance was as visible as if it had been got up for my benefit.Three "killers" were attacking him at once, like wolves worrying a bull, except that his motions were far less lively than those of any bull would have been.

The "killer," or ORCA GLADIATOR, is a true whale, but, like the cachalot, has teeth.He differs from that great cetacean, though, in a most important particular; i.e.by having a complete set in both upper and lower jaws, like any other carnivore.For a carnivore indeed is he, the very wolf of the ocean, and enjoying, by reason of his extraordinary agility as well as comparative worthlessness commercially, complete immunity from attack by man.By some authorities he is thought to be identical with the grampus, but whalers all consider the animals quite distinct.Not having had very long acquaintance with them both, I cannot speak emphatically upon this difference of opinion; so far as personal observation goes, I agree with the whalers in believing that there is much variation both of habits and shape between them.

But to return to the fight.The first inkling I got of what was really going on was the leaping of a killer high into the air by the side of the whale, and descending upon the victim's broad, smooth back with a resounding crash.I saw that the killer was provided with a pair of huge fins--one on his back, the other on his belly--which at first sight looked as if they were also weapons of offence.A little observation convinced me that they were fins only.Again and again the aggressor leaped into the air, falling each time on the whale's back, as if to beat him into submission.

The sea around foamed and boiled like a cauldron, so that it was only occasional glimpses I was able to catch of the two killers, until presently the worried whale lifted his head clear out of the surrounding smother, revealing the two furies hanging--one on either side-- to his lips, as if endeavouring to drag his mouth open --which I afterwards saw was their principal object, as whenever during the tumult I caught sight of them, they were still in the same position.At last the tremendous and incessant blows, dealt by the most active member of the trio, seemed actually to have exhausted the immense vitality of the great bowhead, for he lay supine upon the surface.Then the three joined their forces, and succeeded in dragging open his cavernous mouth, into which they freely entered, devouring his tongue.

This, then, had been their sole object, for as soon as they had finished their barbarous feast they departed, leaving him helpless and dying to fall an easy prey to our returning boats.

Thus, although the four whales captured by the boats had been but small, the day's take, augmented by so great a find, was a large one, and it was a long time before we got clear of the work it entailed.

From that time forward we saw no whales for six weeks, and, from the reports we received from two whalers we "gammed," it appeared that we might consider ourselves most fortunate in our catch, since they, who had been longer on the ground than ourselves, had only one whale apiece.

In consequence of this information, Captain Slocum decided to go south again, and resume the sperm whaling in the North Pacific, near the line--at least so the rumour ran; but as we never heard anything definitely, we could not feel at all certain of our next destination.