were not to be baffled by discouraging circumstances of this kind, and we braced our sinews for a grand and final effort. "Never give up, my lads!' said the headsman, in a cheering voice. Mark my words, we'll have that whale yet. Only think he's ours, and there's no mistake about it, he will be ours. Now for a hard, steady pull! Give way!' Give way, sir! Give way, all!' "There she blows! Oh, pull, my lively lads! Only a mile off! There she blows!' Tabor let fly the harpoon, and buried the iron. "Give him another!' 66 6 Stern all!' thundered P "And, as we rapidly backed from the whale, he flung his tremendous flukes high in the air, covering us with a cloud of spray. He then sounded, making the line whiz as it passed through the chocks. When he rose to the surface again, we hauled up, and the second mate stood ready in the bow to dispatch him with lances. 66 4 'Spouting blood!' said Tabor. He's a dead whale! He won't need much lancing.' It was true enough; for, before the officer could get within dart of him, he commenced his dying struggles. The sea was crimsoned with his blood. By the time we had reached him, he was belly up. We lay upon our oars a moment to witness his last throes; and, when he had turned his head toward the sun, a loud, simultaneous cheer burst from every lip. ing forth its long, white arms, as if to grasp us in its fatal embrace. Louder and still louder it growled, yet the air was still and heavy around us. Now the white cloud spread, whirled over, and lost its hoary head; now it wore the mane and fore-feet of a lion; now the heads of a dragon, with their tremendous jaws extended. Writhing. hissing, roaring, it swept toward us. The demon of wrath could not have assumed a more frightful form. The whole face of the ocean was hidden in utter darkness, save within the circle of a few hundred yards. Our little boat floated on a sea almost unruffled by a breath of wind. The heavy swell rolled lazily past us; yet a death like calmness reigned in the air. Beyond the circle all was strife; within, all peace. We gazed anxiously in each other's faces; but not a word was spoken. Even the veteran harpooner looked upon the clouds with a face of unusual solemuity, as we lay upon our oars, awed to silence by the sublimity of the scene. The ominous stillness of everything within the circle became painful. For many long minutes the surface of the water remained nearly smooth. We dreaded, but longed for a change. This state of suspense was growing intol erable. I could hear the deep, longdrawn respirations of those around me; I saw the quick, anxious glances they turned to windward; and I almost fancied I could read every thought that passed within their breasts. Suddenly a white streak of foam appeared within a hundred yards. Scarcely had we unshipped our oars, when the squall burst upon us with a stunning violence. The weather side of the boat was raised high out of the water, and the rushing foam dashed over the gunwale in torrents. We soon trimmed her, however, and, by hard bailing, got her clear of water. It is utterly impos sible to conceive the violence of the wind. Small as the surface exposed to the squall was, we flew through the foaming seas, dragging the dead body of the whale after us with incredible velocity. Thus situ ated, entirely at the mercy of the wind and sea, we continued every moment to increase our distance from the barque. When the squall abated, we came to under the lee of the whale, and looked to lee ward for the barque. Not a speck could be seen on the horizon! Night was rapidly approaching, and we were alone upon the broad, angry ocean! "Ship your oars,' said the headsman; we'll not part company with old Blubber yet. If we can't make the barque, we can make land somewhere.' "Ay, ay,' said Tabor, with a sly leer; and live on roast-beef and turkey while we're making it.' "With heavy hearts and many misgiv ings we shipped our oars, heartily wishing the whale in the devil's try-pots: for we thought it rather hard that our lives should be risked for a few barrels of oil. For two hours we pulled a long, lazy, dogged stroke, without a sign of relief. At last Tabor stood up on the bow to look out, and we lay on our oars. "Well, Tabor, what d'ye see?' was the general inquiry. "Why,' said Tabor, coolly rolling the quid from his weather to his lee cheek, I see a cussed old barque, that looks like Granny Howland's wash-tub, with a few broom-sticks rigged up in the middle of it.' "Pull, you devils!' cried P'there's duff in the cook's coppers.' "Yes! I think I smell it,' said Tabor. "It was near dark when we arrived alongside of the barque with our prize; but what was our surprise to find that the starboard and larboard boats had killed five whales between them! They were all of a small size, and did not average more than fifteen barrels each." * ** "When the whale has been towed alongside by the boats, it is firmly secured by a large rope attached to the small' by a running noose. There is not a little ingenuity in the manner in which the fluke rope is first passed under the body of the whale. A small line, to which a lead is fastened, with a block of wood at the extremity, several fathoms from the lead, is thrown over between the whale and the ship's side. From the impetus given to the lead, it sinks in a diagonal direction, drawing the block down after it. One end of the lead line is fastened to the end of the fluke rope on board, and the block attached to the other rises at the off side of the whale. It is then hauled on board by means of a wire hook fastened to a long pole, and, in hauling it in, the flukerope passes round under the body of the whale, till the end arrives on board, when it is passed through the loop in the other extremity, and thus a running noose is formed, which is easily slipped down to the small. The fluke-rope is then made fast on the forecastle, and the flukes are hauled up to the bow, or as near as they will reach, leaving the head pointed aft. Of course, the size of the vessel and the length of the whale make a great difference; but in general the head reaches to the quarter. To prevent concussion, the whale is always on the weather side. The progress of the vessel, which is usually under easy sail during the time of cutting in, keeps the whale from drifting out at right angles from the side; though, in most cases, the head is kept in its appropriate position by a small rope made fast aft. "The cutting-tackle is attached to a 6 powerful strap, or pendant, passing round the mast in the main-top by two large blocks. There are, in fact, two tackles, the falls of which pass round the windlass. To each of these tackles is attached a large blubber-hook, which, upon being made fast to the blubber, are hauled up by the windlass, one only being in operation at a time, so that when the first strip of blubber, or blanket-piece,' reaches the stationary block on the pendant, the other can be made fast by a strap and bolt of wood, to a hole cut below the point at which that blanket-piece is to be cut off. I have endeavored to give some idea of this part of the process in the frontispiece ac;companying the work. The blanketpieces are stripped off in a spiral direction, running down toward the flukes; the whale turning, at every heave of the windlass, till the whole covering of blubber is stripped off to the flukes, which are hoisted on board, and those parts containing oil cut away, and the remainder thrown overboard. The head having, in the first place, been cut off and secured to the stern, is now hauled up, with the nose down, if too large to be taken on board, and hoisted so far out of the water as may be found convenient, and the oil or liquid spermaceti bailed out with a vessel attached to a long pole, and thus taken in and saved. As there is no little risk attending this mode of getting the spermaceti, and a great deal of waste, the head is always taken on board, when not too large or heavy. "The 'case,' which is the name given by whalers to the head, sometimes contains from ten to fifteen barrels of oil and spermaceti. A single blanket-piece,' not unfrequently weighs a ton or upward. In hauling it up by the tackles, it careens the vessel over frequently to an angle of fifteen or twenty degrees, owing to its own great weight, combined with that of the whale, the upper surface of which it raises several feet out of the water. When the blanket-piece has reached the stationary block in the top, it is cut off by a boatsteerer, who stands by with a boarding, knife, having first, however, been secured below by the other blubber-hook, which is hauled taught, to prevent it from breaking away by too sudden a jerk. The upper piece then swings in, and, when it ceases its pendulating motion, is dropped down into the hold or blubber-room, where it is cut up into blocks of a foot and a half or two feet in length, and eight or ten inches in width. These blocks are called 'horse-pieces.' The white, hard blocks, containing but litle oil, and which are found near the small, and at the flukes, are called white horse.' The carcass of the whale, when stripped of its blabber, is cast loose, and soon sinks from the want To the Ocean. BROAD, boundless Ocean, I have worshipped thee Mount heavenward, borne upon the tempest up- The clouds which bent above them.-Lo! the King 'Till their upheavings seem'd as nerv'd with life Launch'd on thy surface oft have been the sport Oh, mighty Ocean! to thy hidden caves Their precious burdens, far beyond the reach Thou art, oh Ocean! of man's changing life, Thou alone unchar Yet ever changing-Thou whose mighty po Beneath thy surges, for a mighty hand across thy waters, and doth b Ocean vast d fadeless-thy stern maj to pause-aye, tremble an chy source of being-God, v thy waters, as it were, with d of pow'r infinite-making th His endless wisdom. thee st up S WHALE-FISHERIES. THE whale-fishery must take rackets among the most important branches of American industry. It is not only im-ses D we ! the Koductive of great results in those dis- icre me he breath with life the sport to rest s roar aves it regions which had else not been seine the reach e all unknow been preceded by the adven in vast anging life, roird 1 universe e, and light br whaler-preparing the way for a alone uncha 그 2. ssion, &rowing commerce that has easy a bumme who might long have stunted sous of the me th, had not the intercourse e re time "The blubber varies from four to ten inches in thickness. It is cut from the whale in layers about three feet wide, which run from the head to the flukes in a spiral form. After the blubber and flukes are hoisted on board, with a large tackle attached to a pendant in the main-top, the boat-steerers cut them in sizes sufficiently small to fit snugly in the blubber-room, an apartment in the main hold. The tryworks are then cleaned out, and got in readiness for boiling. Two or three hands are stationed in the blubber-room with short spades. whose duty it is to cut up the large pieces of blubber, called blanketpieces, into blocks or pieces about a foot and a half long and six inches wide. The blubber is then minced into thin slices, and cast into the boilers; a fire started, and the first batch of oil obtained the crisped pieces of blubber are used for fuel. The hot oil is strained into a large copper cooler, where it is permitted to settle till the boilers are again ready to be emptied. It is then strained into casks, and kept on deck till quite cool, when it is stowed down in the casks in the hold by means of a hose. "A trying out' scene is the most stirring part of the whaling business, and certainly the most disagreeable. The tryworks are usually situated between the fore-mast and the main hatch. In small vessels they contain two or three large pots, imbedded in brick. A few barrels of oil from the whale's case, or head, are bailed into the pots before commencing upon the blubber. Two men are standing by the mincing-horse, one slicing up the blubber, and the other passing horse pieces from a tub, into which they are thrown by a third hand, who receives them from the hold. One of the boat steerers stands in front of the lee-pot, pitching the minced blubber into the pots with a fork. Another is stirring up the oil, and throwing the scraps into a wooden strainer. We will now imagine the works in full operation at night. Dense clouds of lurid smoke are curling up to the tops, shrouding the rigging from the view. The oil is hissing in the try-pots. Half-a-dozen of the crew are sitting on the windlass, their rough, weather-beaten faces shining in the red glare of the fires, all clothed in greasy duck, and forming about as savage a look ing group as ever was sketched by the pencil of Salvator Rosa. The cooper and one of the mates are raking up the fires with long bars of wood or iron. The decks, bulwarks, railing, try-works, and windlass, are covered with oil and slime of black-skin, glistening with the red glare from the try-works. Slowly and doggedly the vessel is pitching her way through the rough seas, looking as if enveloped in flame. "More horse-pieces!' cries the mincer's attendant. "Horse pieces! echoes the man in the waist. "Scraps!' growls a boat-steerer. By-and-by the captain comes up from the cabin to see how things are progressing. He peeps into the pots, and observes, in a discontented tone, Why don't you keep that 'ere oil stirred? It's all getting black.' Then he takes a look into the mincer's tub: That won't do! Make Bible leaves of 'em.' Then he looks at the men on the windlass: Hey! all idle! Give these fellows something to do. We can't have idlers about now.' "Having delivered himself of these sentiments, he goes back to his snug nest in the cabin. The idlers resume their places, and entertain themselves spinning yarns, singing songs, &c., and calculating the time by the moon. About the middle of the watch they get up the bread kid, and after dipping a few biscuit in salt wa ter, heave them into a strainer, and boil them in the oil. It is difficult to form any idea of the luxury of this delicious mode of cooking on a long night-watch. Sometimes, when on friendly terms with the steward, they make fritters of the brains of the whale mixed with flour, and cook them in the oil. These are considered a most sumptuous delicacy. Certain portions of the whale's flesh are also eaten with relish, though, to my thinking, not a very great luxury, being coarse and strong. Mixed with potatoes, however, like porpoise-balls,' they answer very well for variety. A good appetite makes almost any kind of food palatable. I have eaten whale-flesh at sea with as much rel ish as I ever ate roast-beef ashore. A trying-out scene has something peculiarly wild and savage in it; a kind of indescribable uncouthness, which renders it difficult to describe with anything like accuracy. There is a murderous appearance about the blood-stained decks, and the huge masses of flesh and blubber lying here and there, and a ferocity in the looks of the men, heightened by the red, fierce glare of the fires, which inspire in the mind of the novice feelings of mingled disgust and awe. But one soon becomes accustomed to such scenes, and regards them with the indifference of a veteran in the field of battle. I know of nothing to which this part of the whaling business can be more appropriately compared than to Dante's pictures of the infernal regions. It requires but little stretch of the imagin ation to suppose the smoke, the hissing boilers, the savage-looking crew, and the waves of flame that burst now and then |