Nothing can exceed the tenderness of the mother for her young; she carries it with her wherever she goes, and, when hardest pursued, keeps it supported between her fins. Even when wounded, she still clasps her baby; and when she plunges to avoid danger, takes it to the bottom; but rises sooner than usual, to give it breath again.
It seems astonishing how a shoal of these enormous animals find subsistence together, when it would seem that the supplying even one with food would require greater plenty than the ocean could furnish. To increase our wonder, we not only see them herding together, but usually find them fatter than any other animals of land or sea. We likewise know that they cannot swallow large Fishes, as their throat is so narrow, that a Fish larger than a Herring could not enter. How then do they subsist and grow so fat? A small insect which is seen floating in those seas, and which Linnaeus terms the Medusa, is sufficient for this supply.
These insects are black, and of the size of a small bean, and are sometimes seen floating in clusters on the surface of the water. They are of a round form, like Snails in a box, but they have wings, which are so tender that it is scarcely possible to touch them without breaking. These serve rather for swimming than flying; and the little animal is called by the Icelanders, the Walfischoas, which signifies the Whale’s provender. They have the taste of raw muscles, and have the smell of burnt sugar. These are the food of the Whale, which it is seen to draw up in great numbers with its huge jaws, and to bruise between its barbs, which are always found with several of these sticking among them.
As the Whale is a meek animal, it is not to be wondered that it has many enemies, willing to take advantage of its disposition, and inaptitude for combat. There is a small animal, of the Shell-fish kind, called the Whale-louse, that sticks to its body, as we see shells sticking to the bottom of a ship. This hides itself chiefly under the fins; and whatever efforts the great animal makes, it still keeps its hold and lives upon the fat, which it is provided with instruments to reach.
The Sword-fish, however, is the Whale’s most terrible enemy. “At the sight of this little animal,” says Anderson, “the Whale seems agitated in an extraordinary manner; leaping from the water as if with affright. Wherever it appears, the Whale perceives it at a distance, and flies from it in the opposite direction. I have been myself,” he continues, “a spectator of their terrible encounter. The Whale has no instrument of defence except the tail; with that it endeavors to strike the enemy; and a single blow taking place, would effectually destroy its adversary; but the Sword-fish is as active as the other is strong, and easily avoids the stroke; then bounding into the air, it falls upon its great enemy, and endeavors, not to pierce with its pointed beak, but to cut with its toothed edges. The sea all about is soon dyed with blood, proceeding from the wounds of the Whale, while the enormous animal vainly endeavors to reach its invader, and strikes with its tail against the surface of the water, making a report at each blow louder than the noise of a cannon.”
The Whale has still another deadly enemy—the tribe of Bloodheads, known as the Wolves of the ocean. This is a species of Whale and, like the Whale, also belongs to Mammalian animals. Although the Bloodheads in relation to the enormous Whale may be termed small, they wage war in troups of five or ten, undaunted and impassionately attacking the huge monster who usually succumbs to the assault. They, therefore, deserve the name assigned them by Linneus, “Torment of the Whale.” They are even more blood-thirsty than the Shark in boldness, killing Seal and smaller Fish in masses.
The Whale when attacked by these Fish of Prey appears to become at first paralyzed with fear and hardly makes any effort to defend himself, although it would hardly benefit him to do so as the Bloodheads are the swiftest of the Whale family, swimming with extraordinary quickness and dexterity. The “Wolves of the Sea” encircle the gigantic, clumsy Whale like a pack of Hounds around a pursued and exhausted Deer. Some of them attack him at the head and forefins, others attack him from underneath, while others attack the lips, and when he opens his gigantic mouth, attempt to slash apart his tongue. Finally the giant becomes angered. He whips the water with his tail and his front fins with tremendous force, snorts powerful streams out of the nostrils of his colossal head; dives under and shoots up in an endeavor to shake off his enemies and to dispatch them with his fins. Often this terrific combat, as illustrated on page [88], lasts for a considerable length of time, ending mostly with the downfall and death of the Whale. The Bloodheads tear him apart in a horrible manner until death ensues, after which they feast for days with pleasure on the immense carcass, and then start in search of further prey.
THE CACHALOTS.
SPERM WHALE.