The harpooner then throws the harpoon with all his might, and if he is lucky, it goes through the poor creature's skin and blubber, into his flesh. The moment he feels the wound, he mostly sinks to a great depth, and drags out the line which is carefully coiled at the bottom of the boat, at a tremendous rate. One man stands by with a mop to keep the edge of the boat over which the rope runs constantly wet, lest the friction should set the boat on fire, and another holds a hatchet ready to chop it in two in case it should become entangled. If it goes out smoothly, they add lines as long as they are necessary: and on one occasion, for a whale which was very refractory, Captain Scoresby actually joined together three miles and three quarters of rope, the weight of which was nearly two tons! Was not this a great fishing-line?
As soon as the whale is struck, they hoist a flag, and the men who are in the ship, and constantly upon the look out, immediately come to their assistance. If the signal is made when any of them are asleep, up they come with their clothes under their arms, and dress afterwards as they can, for not a moment is to be lost. This is no joke, when the cold is more than thirty degrees below the freezing point.
However, they are obliged to go; and as many boats as there may be, then watch anxiously for the re-appearance of the whale on the surface. As soon as he shows himself, the men of the other boats immediately strike their harpoons into him, and so secure him till he is faint from loss of blood, and at last comes up to the surface, spouting out blood mixed with the vapour from his nostrils. They then despatch him with an instrument called a lance, and the great carcass rolls over upon its back. It is afterwards lashed by strong ropes to the side of the ship, and the blubber is cut up into lumps of convenient size, and stowed in casks.
It occasionally happens, after the harpooner has thrown his weapon, that the creature in agony, flaps about his tail with tremendous violence before he goes down. Many boats have been upset in this manner, and Captain Scoresby relates an instance of a boat being dashed completely in two.
Some people have thought the whale a very stupid creature, but there does not seem much ground for this notion, though we can never be in a condition to see much of its instinctive wisdom. As far as we can see, it is the very best thing it could do when struck by the harpoon, to go downwards as it does; and this seems to prove that it has quite its share of intelligence; and it is still more remarkable, that if a mass of ice be near when it is pursued, either before or after it has been struck, it gets under it as quickly as possible, and often thus baffles its pursuers.
But the most interesting thing in the character of the whale is, its extreme love for its offspring, and a cruel use is often made by the whalers of this beautiful disposition. They often strike a cub or sucker, as they call the young whales, which would not be worth taking itself, because they know its mother will instantly expose herself to an attack in its defence. You shall hear what Captain Scoresby says on this, "When the young whale is struck, its mother joins it at the surface of the water, whenever it has occasion to rise for respiration; encourages it to swim off; assists its flight, by taking it under her fin; and seldom deserts it while life remains. She is then dangerous to approach; but affords frequent opportunities for attack. She loses all regard for her own safety, in anxiety for the preservation of her young;—dashes through the midst of her enemies;—despises the danger that threatens her;—and even voluntarily remains with her offspring, after various attacks on herself from the harpoons of the fishers. In June 1811, one of my harpooners struck a sucker, with the hope of its leading to the capture of the mother. Presently she arose close by the 'fast-boat;' and seizing the young one, dragged about a hundred fathoms of line out of the boat with remarkable force and velocity. Again she arose to the surface; darted furiously to and fro; frequently stopped short, or suddenly changed her direction, and gave every possible intimation of extreme agony. For a length of time she continued thus to act, though closely pursued by the boats; and, inspired with courage and resolution by her concern for her offspring, seemed regardless of the danger which surrounded her. At length, one of the boats approached so near, that a harpoon was hove at her. It hit, but did not attach itself. A second harpoon was struck; this also failed to penetrate: but a third was more effectual, and held. Still she did not attempt to escape, but allowed other boats to approach; so that, in a few minutes, three more harpoons were fastened; and, in the course of an hour afterwards, she was killed."