“I wish I had gone in one,” cried Tom.
“So do I,” said Desmond; “but I doubt whether we should have found ourselves of much use, and as the captain would have considered us in the way, we should have had very little chance. However, we can see the fun, and if we get a breeze we may beat the ship up to the whale.”
The boats made good way, but before they got near enough to fire their harpoons into the monster, it sank beneath the surface.
“The whale has disappeared! How provoking!” cried Desmond.
“Don’t suppose that. Depend upon it, the captain has not given up the chase yet. The whale must soon come to the surface again to breathe,” said Tom.
He was right. The whale rose at no great distance from where it had gone down, and somewhat nearer the ship. The boats were quickly up to it, and before it had done spouting, two harpoons, with a deadly force, were shot into its side. The boats backed off speedily to return to strike into it a number of lances. The whale, feeling a sudden pain, lifted up its flukes and disappeared. The line was quickly run out, and before long the creature again came to the surface and attempted to swim away from its foes; but it had not gone far, before it began furiously to lash the water with its flukes, beating it into a mass of foam and blood. The boats kept clear, their crews well knowing that one blow of that mighty tail would dash their boats to splinters. It was the last effort of the monster, which soon rolled over on its side perfectly dead. A cheer from the boats’ crews, which was heard over the water, announced their success, when, securing tow-ropes to the whale, they dragged it alongside without loss of time, and the operation of cutting out was commenced.
Two of the crew descended with sharp spades, when they cut off the head of the whale, which was at once secured under the counter. A large hook being then fastened in a hole cut in the blubber at the head end of the animal, the operator commenced cutting off a strip about three feet broad, in a spiral direction, and a tackle having been fixed to the hook, this was drawn up on board, the body of the whale turning round and round. As the blubber was thus hoisted up, it was cut into pieces, known, as blanket pieces, and thrown into huge cauldrons arranged along the deck. As soon as the carcase was stripped of this, its outer coating, it was allowed to float away, and the spermaceti oil in the head astern was dipped out with small buckets at the end of poles, until the whole was extracted. This oil, the most valuable part of the whale, was then boiled separately, and stowed in casks. Now commenced the operation of trying out. Fires were lighted under the huge try-pots, the crisp membranous parts of the blanket, after the oil had been extracted, serving as fuel. The blubber was boiled until the oil rose to the surface, when it was skimmed off and placed in casks. In daylight the men thus employed looked grim enough, but at night, as they worked away, stripped to their waists, the fire casting a glare over their smoke-begrimed figures, they seemed more like a group of demons engaged in some diabolical work, than human beings. The midshipmen could scarcely recognise those with whom they had been talking familiarly the day before.
The whale, which was a large one, gave, the captain told them, eighty barrels of oil. It took the crew upwards of two days to try out and stow away that quantity.
“I should have to be precious hard up before I turned whaler,” observed Billy Blueblazes. “It is hot work at night, but it must be terrible in a calm, with the blazing sun beating down on the poor fellows’ heads.”
Several days passed away after this before another whale was seen. A breeze, however, having sprung up, the ship stood to the northward. There was some sea on and the weather looked changeable, when one afternoon, as Tom and Gerald were enjoying a read at some of the captain’s books in the cabin, Billy rushed in, exclaiming—