Now, suppose the skipper had told the story to some of his shore friends, how very funny the sailors' conduct would have been made to appear.
On another occasion long after, when I was mate of a barque loading mahogany in Tonala, Mexico, the skipper thought he would practise economy by buying a turtle instead of beef. A large turtle was obtained for twenty-five cents, and handed over to the cook to be dealt with, particular instructions being given him as to the apportionment of the meat.
At eight bells there was a gathering of the men in front of the poop, and a summons for the captain. When he appeared, the usual stereotyped invitation to "have a look at THAT, if you please, sir," was uttered. The skipper was, I think, prepared for a protest, for he began to bluster immediately. "Look here!" he bawled, "I ain't goin' to 'ave any of your dam nonsense. You WANT somethin' to growl about, you do." "Well, Cap'n George," said one of the men, "you shorely don't think we k'n eat shells, do yer?" Just then I caught sight of the kid's contents, and could hardly restrain my indignation. For in a dirty heap, the sight of which might have pleased an Esquimaux, but was certainly enough to disgust any civilized man, lay the calipee, or under-shell of the turtle, hacked into irregular blocks. It had been simply boiled, and flung into the kid, an unclean, disgusting heap of shell, with pieces of dirty flesh attached in ragged lumps. But the skipper, red-faced and angry, answered, "W'y, yer so-and-so ijits, that's wot the Lord Mayor of London gives about a guinea a hounce for w'en 'e feeds lords n' dooks. Only the haristocracy at 'ome get a charnce to stick their teeth in such grub as that. An' 'ere are you lot a-growlin' at 'avin' it for a change!" "That's all right, cap'n," said the man; "bein' brort up ter such lugsuries, of corse you kin appreshyate it. So if yer keep it fer yer own eatin', an' giv us wot we signed for, we shall be werry much obliged." "Now, I ain't a-goin' to 'ave none o' YOUR cheek, so you'd better git forrard. You can betcher life you won't get no more fresh messes this voy'ge." So, with grumbling and ill-will on both sides, the conference came to an end. But I thought, and still think, that the mess set before those men, who had been working hard since six a.m., was unfit for the food of a good dog.
Out of my own experience I might give many other instances of the kind, but I hope these will suffice to show that Jack's growling is often justified, when both sides of the story are heard.
CHAPTER XVI. "BOWHEAD" FISHING
Day and night being now only distinguishable by the aid of the clock, a constant look-out aloft was kept all through the twenty-four hours, watch and watch, but whales were apparently very scarce. We did a good deal of "pelagic" sealing; that is, catching seals swimming. But the total number obtained was not great, for these creatures are only gregarious when at their rocky haunts during the breeding season, or among the ice just before that season begins. Our sealing, therefore, was only a way of passing the time in the absence of nobler game, to be abandoned at once with whales in sight.
It was on the ninth or tenth morning after our arrival on the grounds that a bowhead was raised, And two boats sent after him. It was my first sight of the great MYSTICETUS, and I must confess to being much impressed by his gigantic bulk. From the difference in shape, he looked much larger than the largest sperm whale we had yet seen, although we had come across some of the very biggest specimens of cachalot.
The contrast between the two animals is most marked, so much so, in fact, that one would hardly credit them with belonging to the same order. Popular ideas of the whale are almost invariably taken from the MYSTICETUS, so that the average individual generally defines a whale as a big fish which spouts water out of the top of his head, and cannot swallow a herring. Indeed, so lately as last year a popular M.P., writing to one of the religious papers, allowed himself to say that "science will not hear of a whale with a gullet capable of admitting anything larger than a man's fist"—a piece of crass ignorance, which is also perpetrated in the appendix to a very widely-distributed edition of the Authorized Version of the Bible. This opinion, strangely enough, is almost universally held, although I trust that the admirable models now being shown in our splendid Natural History Museum at South Kensington will do much to remove it. Not so many people, perhaps, believe that a whale is a fish, instead of a mammal, but few indeed are the individuals who do not still think that a cetacean possesses a sort of natural fountain on the top of its head, whence, for some recondite reason, it ejects at regular intervals streams of water into the air.
But a whale can no more force water through its spiracle or blow-hole than you or I through our nostrils. It inhales, when at the surface, atmospheric air, and exhales breath like ours, which, coming warm into a cooler medium, becomes visible, as does our breath on a frosty morning.