WE have wandered together by the tiny rippling stream; watched its increase till it became a mighty river; gazed on the thundering cataract; sailed over the great lakes or inland seas; at length found ourselves in the deep and boundless ocean itself. Having gazed upon specimens of its teeming life, beginning at its simplest forms, we shall now continue our pleasant talks by a short account of its largest inhabitant-the whale. The whale is not only "the great leviathan of the deep," but is the greatest of all living animals. Where else could this gigantic beast live, but in the water? What legs could support it on the land? In the air what wings could have borne its weight? What an ungainly monster the whale would have been on the land! Strictly speaking it is not a fish, but an animal; yet God has placed the whale in the water with the form of a fish, where it moves with the greatest ease and swiftness. What a suitable element for such a monster is the mighty unbounded ocean. There are many kinds of these monsters of the deep. They all agree in this, that, unlike fish, they have lungs, and must come to the surface to breathe. They are all alike in general appearance. The body of the whale is a colossal and irregular cylinder; it has been known to measure 130 feet in length, and to weigh as much as 250 tons; the diameter of the smallest part is about one third that of the greatest. It has neither hair nor scales, but is covered with a, smooth black leather, hard and thick, under which there is a layer of fat one foot thick. The head is joined to the trunk by a neck so short that it seems to grow out of the body; the trunk terminates in a thick fleshy tail, which is horizontally flattened, so that unlike fishes it strikes the water, not right and left, but up and down. The head in some kinds is so enormous as to form one third of the total weight of the animal. The mouth is prodigious; so huge that a man is able to stand inside without stooping. Some have teeth which supply us with inferior ivory; all have immense jaws, from twelve to fifteen feet in length, from which we get all our whalebone.
The tongue is monstrous, sometimes twenty feet long and twelve wide. It is, however, unmoveable, consisting of a solid mass of fat, fastened down the whole length of the mouth. The oil expressed from it will fill five or six hogsheads.
In some whales the lower jaw is several feet shorter than the upper, which, as you will see by the engraving, looks very much out of proportion.
On the head there is a hole which communicates with the mouth. Through this the whale ejects the air which it has inhaled, and with which it carries a large quantity of water, thus throwing high into the air a great fountain. Sailors call this "blowing." When they journey, the largest and strongest animal takes the lead, and in danger gives the alarm or signal for attack. They are said not to be insensible to affection; the male always accompanies the female. In 1723, a pair were met traveling through the ocean; perhaps, says the narrator, it was their honeymoon. They were attacked and wounded; one being killed, the other threw himself upon his companion, uttering frightful moans. The male always follows his wounded partner, and remains with her so long as she lives.
Unlike all fish, the whale suckles her young. This is a strange sight; for the mother has to rear herself upright sufficiently out of the water to enable its young to feed and breathe at the same time; and with its fore fins positively hugs its young to its breast during the operation. What an immense supply such a little monster must require at each meal! The mother exhibits very ardent and courageous attachment. When her little one has been harpooned, she at once comes to its help, remaining close to its side when it comes to the surface to breathe, and exciting it by all means to flee. She rarely abandons her wounded young while it lives. At such a time the mother whale may easily be wounded, forgetting entirely her own safety. In her maternal agony she swims to and fro, beats the sea violently; and the wildness of her movements is a certain sign of the greatness of her grief.
Some whales feed on vegetation, others on medusae, mollusks, and other small animals. The monster swims on the surface of the sea, with his enormous mouth open; he has only to close his large jaws, and he imprisons a whole population. In nature large animals feed on small ones; and it is a strange sight to see this huge leviathan pursue pitiful little creatures scarcely visible, more like jelly than fish, without shape or consistency.
Whale fishing for hundreds of years has been carried on most extensively. They furnish an enormous quantity of oil, whalebone, ivory, spermaceti, and ambergris. You all know how useful sperm oil is; our fine candles are made of spermaceti, and ambergris is much use in making perfumery. So extensive and energetic has been the destruction of whales, that they have been altogether banished from many seas where once they were most numerous, and it is thought the time may come when the whole tribe will be completely exterminated. Hundreds of ships, however, go out every year, each having thirty or forty men, to carry on this profitable, but often dangerous operation. On reaching the fishing grounds, two men are kept at the mast-head on the look out, and four boats, pointed at each end, are always ready for instant action. The moment an unfortunate whale is perceived, the canoes are let down; each is manned with four strong rowers, an officer who steers, and an experienced harpooner, who must have great presence of mind, a keen eye, and a strong arm. Now begins a most exciting and often dangerous scene. As soon as a boat comes within reach, the man hurls his harpoon. The giant of the waves, on feeling himself wounded, gives a violent blow with his tail and plunges into the depths. There is a line attached to the harpoon, which runs out with tremendous rapidity, and drags the boat with frightful swiftness. Should this rope get entangled, the boat is immediately upset, and all plunged into the water. All the boats keep away from the tail of the monster; for when the whale plunges he erects his tail, which vibrates for a moment in the air, and falls flat upon the water with a crash, which would dash a boat in pieces in a moment. After ten or fifteen minutes the whale is forced to come to the surface in order to breathe, and this is a critical moment. If the whale should rise up immediately under a boat, he has been known to hurl it ten or fifteen feet clean out of the water; but if all goes well, the moment he appears at the surface, he is again struck with another harpoon, and again instantly dives. This is repeated till the poor creature, becoming exhausted, falls an easy prey to his pursuers.
Occasionally, however, the whale sells his life very dearly. In 1820, an American whaler having let down its boats in the midst of a shoal of whales, immediately gave chase, the ship following after; suddenly the largest of the whales left the rest, and disdaining the small boats rushed straight at the ship, rightly suspecting that to be its principal enemy. At the first shock, a portion of the keel was broken, the animal then endeavored to seize the ship with its gigantic jaws, but not being able to manage this, he retreated about six hundred feet, and dashed with all his strength against the prow of the vessel, driving it with immense velocity This caused an enormous wave to rise, and the waters pouring into the windows, filled the cabin; and in spite of all the efforts of the crew, she speedily sunk to the bottom.
When the whale has been killed, he is dragged to the ship, made fast; and then begins the work of cutting up and melting the fat; and having secured all that is valuable about the great monster, the remainder is speedily devoured by the birds and sharks.