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338 REPORT OF COMMISSIONER OF FISH AND FISHERIES. [50] 
below, goading his mighty adversary to the surface with his sharp beak, 
while the thrasher, at the top of the water, belabored him with strokes 
of his long, lithe tail. 
An early explorer of the Bermudas gives the following version of the 
story, with tone so fresh and enthusiastic that we might well believe 
him to have seen the occurrence with his own eyes. The passage oc- 
curs in “Newes from the Bermudas”, a pamphlet dated “ Burmuda, 
July, 1609”, and reprinted in “Force’s Historical Tracts”, vol. ii: 
“ Whale, Sword-jfish & Threasher.—The sword-fish swimmes under the 
whale, & pricketh him upward. The threasher keepeth above him, & 
with a mighty great thing like unto a flaile, hee so bangeth the whale, 
that hee will roare as though it thundered, & doth give him such blowes, 
with his weapon, that you would thinke it to be a crake of great shot.” — 
(Page 22.)* 
Skeptical modern science is not satisfied with this interpretation of 
any combat at sea seen at a distance. It recognizes the improbability 
of aggressive partnership between two animals so different as the Sword- 
fish and a shark, and explains the turbulent encounters occasionally 
seen at sea by aseribing them.to the attacks of the killer-whale, Orca 
sp., upon larger species of the same order. 
There can be little doubt though that Sword-fish sometimes attack — 
* The following is a fair example of the average newspaper paragrapher’s treatment 
of the subject: 
“Combats of the ocean.—Among the extraordinary spectacles sometimes witnessed 
by those who ‘‘ go down to the sea in ships” none are more impressive than a combat 
for the supremacy between the monsters of the deep. The battles of the Sword-fish 
and whale are described as Homeric in grandeur. The Sword-fish go in schools like 
whales, and the attacks are regular sea-fights. When the two troops meet, as soon 
as the Sword-fish have betrayed their presence by a few bounds in the air, the whales 
draw together and close up their ranks. The Sword-fish always endeavors to take 
the whale in the flank, either because its cruel instinct has revealed to it the defect 
in the carcasses—for there exists near the brachial fins of the whale a spot where 
wounds are mortal—or because the flank presents a wider surface toits blow. The 
Sword-fish recoils to secure a greater impetus. If the movement escapes the keen 
eye of his adversary the whale is lost, for it receives the blow of the enemy and dies 
instantly. But if the whale perceives the Sword-fish at the instant of the rush, by a 
spontaneous bound it springs clear of the water its entire length, and falls on its 
flank with a crash that resounds for many leagues, and whitens the sea with boiling 
foam. The gigantic animal has only its tail for its defense. It tries to strike its 
enemy, and finishes him at asingle blow. But if the active Sword-fish avoids the 
fatal tail the battle-becomes more terrible. The aggressor springs from the water in 
his turn, falls upon the whale, and attempts, not to pierce, but to saw it with the 
teeth and garnish its weapon. The sea is stained with blood; the fury of the whale 
is boundless. The Sword-fish harrasses him, strikes him on every side, kills him, and 
flies to other victories. Often the Sword-fish has not time to avoid the fall of the 
whale, and contents itself with presenting its sharp saw to the flank of the gigantic 
animal about to crush it. It then dies like Maccazus (sic), smothered beneath the 
weight of the elephant of the ocean. Finally, the whale gives a last few bounds in 
the air, dragging its assassin in its flight, and perishes as it kills the monster of which 
it was the victim.” 
