During the flensing, one of our firemen, Bob Graham, appeared at the engine room door with six pieces of rope yarn tied together, and to the free end of each he had fastened a piece of blubber, just big enough to pass comfortably through the throat of a mollie (as fulmars are called), either way. Graham was an ingenious fellow and remarkable for his fertility of resource; he was always amusing himself by devising little surprises to make life pleasant for others. He threw this affair into the sea and the six pieces of fat were instantly swallowed by the same number of mollies. All went well until it became evident that the birds were not of the same opinion as to the direction of their next move. This performance seemed to me cruel at first, but after watching it for a little while, I decided that the exercise was good for the fulmars and did not hurt them. Of course, there were little disappointments connected with it, but then creatures, higher in the social scale, have their disappointments also. It is just possible that the bird which played the game out and eventually swallowed all six pieces and the string, may have had regrets, but from what I have seen of this particular species, I don't think it suffered much.
When the flensing was over, every one was tired, and the men were ordered to turn in, excepting the lookout, all having been busy during the day. As whaling was a very irregular sort of life, it was the custom to sleep while one could, and as I had done a lot of rowing during the previous twenty-four hours, I sought my cabin. Our specksioneer, George Lyon, was an old man, but he was absolutely indefatigable, and when this order was given, he decided to go on the bran instead of to bed. Accordingly, he raised a crew of volunteers, but being short one man, he thought of me. There was one way of always bringing me on deck and that was to go to the companionway and shout down the word "bear." This George did and I at once appeared, rifle in hand. Seeing the boat being lowered, I tumbled in, and in a minute we were away; I then asked where the bear was and the specksioneer said that we might see one; so I knew his trick. We went some distance south of the ship and, hacking the boat up to the ice, laid the steering oar on it, which held us there, then we talked and smoked.
About midnight all was quiet, except for the heavy breathing of the narwhals and white whales in the sea, and of those who slept in the boat; it was easy enough to sleep, sitting at an oar. I was awake, the boat-steerer was standing on the ice, and the man in the ship's barrel was scanning the Sound for fish, when suddenly, without the slightest warning, there was a great commotion in the water, at the side of our boat, and up came a whale with a fearful blast. This first blast of a whale, which has been holding its breath for a long time, sounds very loud, when one is within ten feet of it. It reminds one of a train coming suddenly out of a tunnel. The boat-steerer instantly pushed the boat well off, getting in at the same time He then said "Give way," which we did. The whale was moving very slowly, and one sweep of the boat-steerer's oar brought us around to it, then I heard the orders, "Stand by your gun!" and "Avast pulling!" I would have given anything for one look; but the lives of all the crew depended upon each man doing as he was told, so I sat perfectly still and leaned well away from the line running up the middle of the boat. Presently there was a bang, and the line began running out, while every one called "A fall." I was now in a boat, fast to a fresh whale, which was an experience the average amateur rarely had. As the harpooner took a turn of the line around the bollard head in the bows, and paid the line out through his hands, the bow of the boat was dragged very low and the stern tilted very high, but the speed we travelled at was not so great as I had expected. The whale came up between the boat and the ship, and we were being towed down the Sound. All the boats were away from the ship in a minute. We called out the number of lines out, and they had no difficulty in finding about where the whale was, and being ready for it when it came up. A second iron was put in when it appeared and off it went again. The water being absolutely free from ice, the chase was an easy one, as a boat could generally go faster than a whale. All I had to do was to sit quiet and keep well away from the line. As there was no ice to endanger the boat, the line was put several times around the bollard head and kept very tight, so we were towed much faster than if it had been loose. After the whale was killed and all the lines cut free, we were called on board to have or lines hauled in, after which the ship unhooked and steamed off to pick up her boats. The sky was very much overcast when we brought the whale alongside, and the tired crew, after getting some food, had to flense at once, as a change of weather might have been serious.
The Aurora now looked as a successful whaler should—a big whale in the 'tween-decks and another alongside tons and tons of blubber lying about everywhere, and the passage between the engine room and skylight, and the bulwarks, piled with bone.
Before the flensing was over, it had commenced to blow and it was quite rough by the time we had finished. Then we unhooked and ran down the Sound a little way, while the crew turned in for a watch. As our main yard was aback, it required very few men to handle the ship. All night we were dodging about.
July 21st. Monday. For some time, the clock had not been watched. Had it been, it would have conveyed little information, because, when it suited, it was put backward or forward. When a man going to bed saw by the clock that it was midnight, and when he arose and saw by the same clock that it was six, he probably felt refreshed. In the end, of course, it would tell on him if the full amount of rest registered had not been obtained; but for a time it worked very well. It certainly took a long time to make off our two whales, and it gave us a substantial feeling to be able to say, "Five fish on board." When the decks were cleared up, the crew were ordered below, excepting the lookout, but shortly after, it came on to blow hard and the sky was much overcast. Later, some rain fell, so we unhooked and lay off the ice edge with the main yard aback.