Killing a Whale. 149 



boats slinking away on board their own vessel, 

 thoroughly crest-fallen — and well they might be, as 

 they had had two good chances of striking the 

 fish if they had liked to avail themselves of the 

 opportunity. 



After laying on our oars for about ten minutes 

 off the edge of the floe, the fish rose not far from 

 us ; we pulled quickly up and gave it another 

 harpoon, two other boats coming up at the same 

 time also firing their harpoons into the unfortunate 

 beast. And now commenced the work of killing. 

 Several times did the mate, with wonderful address, 

 thrust the lance into the fish, pushing it in up to 

 the handle (a distance of six or seven feet), we in 

 the boat all this time being fully occupied in 

 keeping close to our prey, but at the same time 

 clear of its tail, which came down repeatedly with 

 tremendous blows, drenching us with water. The 

 poor brute soon commenced to eject blood from 

 its blow-hole, with which we were copiously be- 

 spattered. At length the captain arrived on the 

 scene of action, armed with a new American patent 

 gun, loaded with an explosive dart, and two of 

 these being fired into the whale, it turned over on 

 its back dead, amidst our cheers. It was past 

 4 a.m. before we had finished flinching and retired 

 to rest. I was delighted beyond measure, in the 

 • afternoon, when the captain announced his inten- 

 tion of going up Lancaster Sound, especially when 

 a hint was thrown out of visiting Beechey Island 



