WHALERS AND WHALING. 



even biting it right in two with his terrible jaws. Or perhaps he 

 suddenly dives down into the depths of the ocean, making the har- 

 poon rope whizz over the bow of the boat at such a rate that they 

 have to keep pouring water over it to prevent the friction from set- 

 ting the wood afire. As an old seaman once remarked to a green 

 hand, (who had just been witnessing these stupendous convulsions for 

 the first time,) "Whales has feelings as well as anybody. They don't 

 like to be stuck in the gizzards and hauled along side, and cut in, 

 and tried out, in them 'ere boilers, no more than I do." 



As soon as the whale is dead, he is hauled to the side of the 

 ship and secured there by chains. The carcass often measures more 

 than two-thirds of the vessel's length. No more sleep for the sailors, 

 nor rest for the weary until the "cutting in" and "trying out" are 

 accomplished, and the oil and whalebone safely stowed away in the 

 hold. The blubber — or fat — which surrounds the whale's body is about 



49 



