92 



WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 



it in, and exhibited the result at the local show, and was 

 disqualified ! The judge said : " Mon, it's turnips is the 

 exheebut yon's no turnips wha ever saw neips like that 

 they're faur ower big." 



A cool, sunny morning, with rolling glassy grey swell and 

 warmer. We are in tow of a large finner ; we began to hunt 

 a herd (pod is the old name, it means a family party) at five- 

 thirty. It has taken 

 five hundred yards out 

 with several rapid 

 rushes of forty to fifty 

 miles an hour, and 

 there is a smell of the 

 burning wood of the 

 breaks; it is very 

 quiet, Jensen has 

 come up beside me 

 at the wheel. I 

 noticed after the shot 

 he again rubbed his 

 nose with the red 

 handkerchief, a little 

 nervous, colourful 

 touch. The whale 

 blows occasionally 

 and turns the swell 

 into white and red ; 

 it looks as if we must 

 lance it from the 



small boat, or get another harpoon in. It was a most 

 interesting chase; five monsters blowing half-a-mile apart 

 seemed quite a crowd. We got in between two, feeding, 

 and after an hour's hunt altogether one rose a few yards to 

 starboard. Jensen refused it, coolly waiting for the bigger 

 one behind to come up in front, to the left, and mercifully 

 it did, slowly ; you could see down its blow hole, then its 

 great back came out, and into, I think, its last ribs the 

 harpoon went, and at the wheel we were all in smoke and 



