THEDIARY 33 



Mr. Mather had given him *to scribble in if he felt so 

 inclined.' 



He ripped out the used pages and sat on the wooden 

 chair. The whalehunt that he had seen a week ago on 

 the southern shores returned now in crystal clear images 

 to his restless mind. 



He dipped the point of the goose-quill in the ink and 

 then with the thoroughness that was always so typical of 

 him he wrote: 



The Diary of Jonathan Oakley, commenced the last 



day of May in the year ly^i at Sherburne, 



Mew England, 



On the next page he began to write in his own quaint 

 fashion a description of the wonderful things he had seen 

 at the whaling camp. 



As the days passed there were many things to record but 

 it was not until a year later, when time and events had 

 lifted the burden of fear from Jonathan's mind that he 

 made the entry telling of the murder of the Indian. 



Let us take a few entries at random and form our own 

 picture of the everyday life among these people who were 

 destined to find their green pastures not in their island 

 home but upon the broad waters of the Atlantic. 



Sixth of June. On hearing the people called out I went 

 to the wharf and watched the gambolling of a pod of 

 humpback whales. All during the flood tide they 

 frolicked in the water outside the bar. It is evident that 

 they obtain their name from the arched shape of their 

 backs. As they rolled their bodies with a forward 

 motion I saw that each had a tall fin upon his back which 

 is not found in the black right whale although both are of 

 the family that carry whalebones in their mouths. When 

 they rolled sideways I saw that the side fins were very 

 large in proportion to the body and later when I was able 

 to approach one of the dead whales I found that these 



