A man holding a spade declared, “They always do that just before one of ’em jumps out. You can’t always get him, they’re so quick, but I’m goin’ to try if I get a chance.”
Hardly were the words uttered when a huge shark leaped into the air, and the chance of which the spadesman spoke was an easy one, as it happened, for the shark rose to a considerable height and so turned his body as to present a good front for a spade. The man who had spoken drove the implement clear through the fellow, and, as he held the handle fast, the great weight of the body detached the spade, and out gushed the blood as the shark fell back into the sea. If there was commotion before, there was turmoil now, and, as the sharks devoured their unfortunate companion, the water was red with blood. The birds came lower and increased their shrieking. The awful scene was not soon to be forgotten.
The “case” was full of pure spermaceti and constituted nearly half the head. In a large whale the case contained nearly three tons of spermaceti. This is the way our case was baled out. A bucket was attached to one end of the whip, and the other end was held by a couple of hands on deck. These hoisted the bucket. The spermaceti bubbled like new milk and was emptied into a large tub.
After the blubber was stripped from the body and the contents were removed from the head, these members drifted away, and, to the relief of everybody, the sharks and birds followed the carcass. And now the ship was reeking with oil and grease—a fitting preparation for starting the try-works. The relief spoken of was only temporary, for the cow whale took the place just vacated, and the air was again thick with birds and the sea filled with sharks.
And what was the reward for all our labor? The whales were first sighted by the Gay Head Indian, and, as our whale yielded sixty barrels, the Indian received five dollars. As for the crew, we were given a great treat. Our customary food was, of course, lobscouse, but now to it was added, at supper, a limited supply of gingerbread. That was all. But now trouble arose over a garment. The boatsteerer who struck the cow whale asked for a flannel shirt, and most of us heard the discussion between him and the captain.
“Why do you want a flannel shirt?”
“Ain’t I entitled to it, sir?”
“Why?”
“I struck the cow.”
“What if you did? I ain’t offered any prize for striking or killing a whale. Only the Gay Header is entitled to a prize and he’s got it, because he sighted the whales, and the first one made over fifty barrels.”