12 HUNTING WITH THE ESKIMOS 



So every part of the whale is turned to account 

 except the smell. Human ingenuity cannot control 

 that; it is too strong. This ghost of departed levia- 

 thans, as big as many leviathans combined, haunts the 

 air for miles around a whale factory, and does not 

 resemble lavender or lilac or other sweet perfumes in 

 the least. 



Attached to the Hawkes Harbor whale factory is 

 the little steamer Cachelat, and she was in port when 

 we arrived. At her bow a harpoon cannon was 

 mounted. From this the harpoon, containing an ex- 

 plosive bomb, is fired into the whale. If well aimed, 

 it reaches the whale's "life," as the whalers say, and 

 the bomb exploding kills instantly. The harpoon, 

 before being discharged from the cannon, is attached 

 to the vessel by a line, and thus the carcass, which is 

 prevented from sinking, is hauled alongside and 

 lashed to the vessel, and then taken to the factory. 

 Only one of these vessels is permitted to operate in con- 

 nection with any single factory, and the law demands 

 that each factory be located at least fifty miles from 

 the next one. 



Whaling on the Labrador coast began early in the 

 sixteenth century. The Basques were the first to 

 undertake it actively here, as they were the first to 

 take advantage of the Labrador fisheries. Later 

 came the British, Americans and Newfoundlanders. 

 American whalers ceased activities on the Labrador 

 coast, however, so long ago as 1807, and all of the 

 present-day Labrador fisheries are, I believe, con- 

 trolled by Newfoundland interests. 



