MODES OF DEFENCE OF CETACEANS. 357 



solidity of their teeth are equally well adapted for crushing the 

 hardest bones, so as to leave undevoured no part of the carrion 

 on which they chiefly feed. Their nocturnal habits protect them 

 from many a hostile collision, though when attacked they are 

 far from being contemptible opponents. 



The seals play among the fishes a part similar to that of the 

 cat tribes among the herbivorous quadrupeds. For this pur- 

 pose they are not only beautifully formed for swimming, both 

 by the structure of their finlike limbs, their tapering body, 

 and the strong muscles of their spine, which bend it with con- 

 siderable force, and thus greatly assist propulsion ; but they are 

 also furnished with sharp and many-pointed teeth, excellently 

 adapted for seizing, holding, and tearing the fishes, the activity 

 of whose motions, no less than their scaly surface and even 

 rounded form, render such a structure absolutely necessary. 

 When on land or on masses of ice, where they love to bask in the 

 sun, their slow and awkward movements expose them to many 

 dangers ; but they make up for this deficiency by their caution and 

 watchfulness, seldom venturing from the shore, so as to be able 

 at the approach of danger to plunge immediately to the bottom 

 of the water, and seldom sleeping longer than a minute without 

 moving their heads to ascertain whether anything suspicious is 

 going on. 



The cetaceans, particularly the whales, are in general of a 

 pacific disposition, and will rather avoid a hostile encounter 

 than boldly face it ; but when attacked by other monsters of the 

 deep, by the terrible swordfish or the formidable thresher, 

 their tail becomes a terrific weapon of defence. The annals of 

 the whale-fishery are full of instances where a single blow of 

 this monster club has cut the pursuing boat down to the water's 

 edge, or hurled the unfortunate harpooner high into the air. 

 The sperm-whale sometimes also uses his enormous head as a 

 kind of catapult or ram, to stave a boat, or, turning on his 

 back, he endeavours to crush it between his jaws. 



Though destitute of claws, the monkeys find ample means of 

 safety in their arboreal life, their cunning vigilance, and their 

 amazing agility in climbing. Bounding from bough to bough, 

 they will pass through the most entangled forests with surprising 

 swiftness, and mock the tiger-cat in his pursuit, or baffle the 

 huntsman's aim. The apes upon the Rock of Gibraltar, although 



