As soon as he had steadied himself in his new position, a piece of rope was thrown up to him,—by which Snowball was himself hoisted to the shoulders of the cachalot; and then the two seamen proceeded towards the tail,—or, as the sailor pronounced it, the “starn” of this peculiar craft.
A little aft of “midships” a pyramidal lump of fatty substance projected several feet above the line of the vertebras. It was the spurious or rudimentary dorsal fin, with which the sperm-whale is provided.
On arriving at this protuberance,—which chanced to be the highest point on the carcass where the flag was elevated on its slender shaft,—both came to a halt; and there stood together, gazing around them over the glittering surface of the sunlit sea.
Chapter Fifty Nine.
Aboard the Body of a Whale.
The object of their united reconnoissance was the same which, but a few moments before, had occupied the attention of the sailor. They were standing on the dead body of a whale that had been killed by harpoons. Where were the people who had harpooned it?
After scanning the horizon with the same careful scrutiny as before, the sailor once more turned his attention to the huge leviathan, on whose back they were borne.
Several objects not before seen now attracted the attention of himself and companion. The tall flag, known among whalers by the name of “whift,” was not the only evidence of the manner in which the cachalot had met its death. Two large harpoons were seen sticking out of its side, their iron arrows buried up to the socket in its blubber; while from the thick wooden shanks, protruding beyond the skin, were lines extending into the water, at the ends of which were large blocks of wood floating like buoys upon the surface of the sea.