84o 
FOREST_AND_STHEAM« 
[Oct. 22, 1964. 
Story of a Whale Hunter., 
My hair is ss white as the salt sea foam, and as I sit 
before the fire in the quiet evening hours, I often recall 
the wild adventures of my early manhood. They were 
upon the ocean, along the shores of various lands, and 
associated with the capture of the whale. Many of the 
books within my reach are full of interest, but I am not 
just now in a reading mood; and as my good wife is at 
this moment nodding over some of her fancy knitting, 
I will have a pen-and-ink talk with you, my friend, about 
the times of old. 
Within the entire range of natural history there is 
nothing, in my opinion, which can give to the general 
student a more profound interest than the whale, and 
nothing in all the various pursuits of mankind possesses 
a more exciting and thrilling field of adventure than 
that of hunting the whale. 
My experiences as a whaler have been chiefly as an offi- 
cer, and I have both made and lost a good deal of money, 
sailing from New London and New Bedford. 
I cannot here go deeply into the natural history of the 
whale family, but will give you their names and a few 
particulars. The sperm whales, which sometimes move 
in schools of two or three thousand, and at the rate of six 
miles per hour, are supplied with teeth, attain their full 
growth in twenty years, and often yield 150 barrels of oil, 
in addition to their sperm. Next in importance is the 
black or right whale, which has no teeth, but "carries a 
bone in his mouth" which all nations have admired and 
coveted. And then come the hump-back, fin-back, and 
sulphur bottom whales, which in different degrees are 
sought for by the men who go down to the sea in ships. 
If we can believe anything that is asserted by the wise 
average man of science, the whale would never make a 
fish stew, as it is in reality a quadruped. It is a warm- 
blooded animal, and those appendages called fins or flip- 
pers are in reality its legs ; its heart is like that of man 
and other mammals, having two cavities, and doing 
double duty in the line of circulating blood. It is not the 
offspring of an egg, but is born alive. What are generally 
called the blowholes of the whale are really nothing hut 
its nostrils. The whalebone of commerce comes from the 
jaw of the animal, and is only found in the variety known 
as the Greenland or right whale. While the whalebone 
whale has no teeth, those of the sperm whale are carried 
in the lower jaw; and as to the size which these creatures 
attain, it may be stated that they have been known to 
measure 100 feet in length, and to have weighed nearly 
250 tons. We often hear the remark that something we 
see "is very like a whale," and yet there are several ani- 
mals to which we may truthfully apply that remark, viz., 
the dolphin, porpoise, the grampus, bottle-nose manatee, 
sea elephant and narwhal or sea unicorn. Nor will I 
stop to give all the particulars bearing upon the equip- 
ment of a whaling ship, but proceed at once with some of 
my adventures. ". 
And first, in fancy, let us take a little run in the South 
Atlantic. We are in the vicinity of a. great plain of sea 
weed, which is the favorite food of the, right whale, and 
they are numerous in that vicinity. One of the crew 
has ascended to the "crow's nest," for you must under- 
stand that it is desirable to discover a whale, or a school 
of them, before we come near enough to see them from 
the deck. 
The boats are ready, equipped with harpoons and lances 
and rope, the crews dmy assigned, when lo ! from the 
crow's nest comes the cry, "There she blows!" "Where 
away?" "Abeam, to the leeward, sir." "How far off?" 
"Two miles, sir." "Let us know when the ship heads 
for her." "Ay, ay, sir!" "Keep her off— hard up the 
helm!" "Hard up it is, sir." "Steady! S-t-e-a-d-y !" 
"There she blows ! A large right whale with her calf, sir, 
heading right at us. Very large. There she blows ! Now 
half a mile off and feeding, sir, and coming right toward 
us !" We lower away and are off. Now it is that you see 
the advantage of the drill we have practiced for many 
days." Every movement must be quick and sure, with no 
guessing or questioning what is best. There goes the 
great mother whale, followed by her offspring, both of 
them moving slowly and not heeding the coming danger. 
The boat has reached her side, a fearful flurry of excite- 
ment follows among the crew. One, two, and perhaps 
three lances are thrown, and away she goes, coloring the 
ocean with her blood, dragging the rope with fearful 
rapidity, then stops, goes into what we call a flurry, or 
her death agony, when she swims with her head out of 
water, making a circuit of miles, and lashing the sea into 
foam with her tail, and as she grows weaker and weaker, 
slackens her pace, straightens herself out upon the water 
on her side, and with her head invariably toward the east, 
dies. If the wind is blowing, the sea makes a clear breach 
over her as if she were a rock, and this has sometimes 
deceived the mariner. 1 remember one instance where a 
captain reported in New York the discovery of a rock in 
the track to Europe, and suggested that this had perhaps 
been the cause of many shipwrecks, when he had only 
been deceived by a dead whale. It has frequently hap- 
pened in my experiencj that a whale after being har- 
pooned has turned in anger upon his pursuers, and with 
his great flukes shattered their boat to pieces and killing 
many men; and I have also known a whale when angry 
to raise himself so far out of water as to look like a man 
on his feet, and then to let himself down with a crash 
upon the ill-fated boat. And then the speed with which 
the whale can move is a continual wonder with all those 
who have hunted them. The quickness and facility with 
which they can use their monstrous flukes is only equalled 
by the coachman's whip. It was never my fate to be 
seriously injured by an angry whale, but they have fre- 
quently suggested very decided thoughts of eternity. 
Once a fellow dragged me downward into the sea "full 
forty fathoms," judging by my feelings; and on another 
occasion I happened to be on the back of a big sperm 
whale when he made a start, and holding on to the har- 
poon, I traveled for a short time in a circle at the rate of 
thirty miles per hour, when I thought it expedient to 
slide into the sea and trust to being picked up by one of 
the boats forming the hunting party. And what will strike 
you as a fish story, but it is true, before I was rescued I 
actually went within an ace of swimming directly into the 
mouth of another whale which was strolling along the 
spot as if anxious to inquire about the general commo- 
tion going on. 
The largest right whale I ever saw was captured off 
the coast of Kamschatka by one of my crews, and it was 
during the same year I hat 1 procured a full ship of 3,200 
barrels of oil and 40,000 pounds of whalebone within the 
space of sixty days. When the monster just mentioned 
was killed, the sea was very rough. After the boats had 
been lowered, it was necessary to move them with great- 
care, lest an unlucky wave should carry us on top of the 
whale, and this actually happened, for when I called upon 
the harpooner to fasten, he did so, when our boat was in- 
stantly thrown upward, and one man killed. Fortunately, 
before the boat filled, I had time to put a fatal lance into 
the whale, and we were rescued by another boat. As I 
was getting in, I saw near by the body of the killed man, 
in a standing position, a few feet below the surface of the 
water, when by diving I caught him by the ear, but a big 
wave came, causing me to lose my held, and the body 
of our brave comrade went down out of sight in the blue 
waters. Into this whale we were obliged to send a suc- 
cession of lances, and he spouted blood and disgorged 
food for six hours, having in that time lost what we esti- 
mated at a hundred barrels of blood alone. But I must 
tell you something more about this hero of Kamschatka. 
He was as long as our ship, and she measured 120 feet; 
his greatest girth 75 feet, head 30 feet long, and flukes 30 
feet broad. His lips alone made thirty barrels of oil ; 
throat and tongue the same amount, and the total yield of 
his blubber was 240 barrels. The bone taken from the in- 
side of his mouth weighed 2,800 pounds, and his market 
value, according to the prices of oil and bone then ruling, 
$18,600. 
And now, without, going into all the particulars as to 
how we hunters of the sea do our work when preparing 
our game for preservation, I will give you a few facts 
which have come to my personal knowledge, bearing 
upon the natural history of the whale. Here, for example, 
is a fact which I have not seen mentioned in any 
authentic books. On taking off the skin of a whale, you 
come to the blubber, which rests upon the flesh or muscle, 
and this I have found to be covered with a fine hair or 
fur, about an inch long ; ■ to this fur is attached a black 
pigment which answers the purpose and is used by the 
sailors as you would a common soap ; but the significance 
of this fact is that in reality it makes the whale a fur- 
bearing animal. 
And now about their numbers. I have sailed a thous- 
and miles without seeing even the sign of a whale ; and 
yet, in the North Pacific, I have on several occasions 
looked upon a thousand or more individuals of the sperm 
variety in one great school, covering the sea, apparently, to 
the horizon ; and when tumbling and rolling and pitching 
and spouting, they have presented a scene of grandeur 
and confusion which no pen could possibly describe. 
In these schools there is always one fellow swimming in 
the center who seems to be the leader of the host, and he 
is called by the sailors the Old Soldier. And I may also 
here mention the curious fact that when you strike a 
whale with the lance, and he makes a demonstration with 
his tail, the entire herd go through precisely the same 
motion, as if influenced by a kind of magnetism. Nor 
should I omit an allusion to the almost human intelli- 
gence of the whale. I have known them to lie perfectly 
still long enough to let me get within reach of their 
flukes, and then suddenly turn upon the boat and crush it 
with their capacious jaws; and thus have I seen them 
watch for and destroy a number of boats and killing a 
number of men. All this is very unkind on the part of 
the . kingly creatures of the ocean, but I have never been 
disposed to blame them for any of their savage eccen- 
tricities. Not only are they hunted and killed by the 
Yankee race, but they have a more terrible enemy that 
goes by the name of the killer. This creature is serpent- 
like in appearance, armed with sharp teeth, and as the 
right whale often swims with his mouth open, the killer 
fastens himself on his tongue. When thus attacked, the 
whale is greatly alarmed and utters a bellowing sound 
which may be heard a distance of ten miles, meanwhile 
lashing the sea into foam with his flukes. After the 
killer has eaten away the tongue, then, as a matter of 
course, the whale dies from starvation. But again, to 
look upon a pair of whales when fighting with each other 
is a sight that can never be forgotten. I have seen an 
old fellow, after coming out of such a conflict, with his 
jaw bones bent all out of place, and with fearful gashes 
on his head and all along his body. When thus fighting — 
and the leaders of the various schools often come to- 
gether—they either roar, which resembles distant thunder, 
and the spray which they often scatter into the air re- 
minds one of the surf on a rocky shore. And then they 
are so ferocious. During the Rebellion it was my fortune 
to' participate in two battles, but the terror I then expe- 
rienced was not to be compared with that caused by a 
fight between angry whales in the North Pacific. 
And here comes in an incident which happened to me 
at New Zealand a great many years ago. I had killed a 
whale, and having stripped off the blubber cast off the 
carcass. The wind and tide landed it high and dry on 
the shore. A few weeks afterwards, on visiting this spot, 
I found that a whole family of natives had eaten their 
way into the carcass and turned it into a habitation ; and 
this was anything but a "sweet home," and its influence — 
such as it was — pervaded the whole country for miles 
around. 
And now, my good friend, I will continue my yarns, 
which I tell you are all true, with a brief dash at the sea- 
serpent. I am a believer in the veritable existence of 
such a creature. I once saw a specimen in the South 
Atlantic Ocean, near the Ascension Islands. He was at 
least sixty feet long, and I followed him with a bold crew 
for at least two miles, but he gave us the slip, and went 
down into the world unknown. And I have talked with 
many whalemen in different parts of the world who sub- 
stantiated my belief. 
In 1847, while working away from Cape Horn against 
a head wind, I ran my vessel into a bay and found safe 
anchorage. After night had settled upon us, I discovered 
a light not far from shore, and was greatly bothered to 
know what it meant. When morning came I made an 
exploration, and found a trio of shipwrecked sailors in a 
kind of camp. They were in a terrible plight, almost 
without clothing, and greatly emaciated by hunger. Here 
they had been for nine months, and one of them was so 
weak that he could not stand. _ Seven men had deserted 
from the ship Elinor of _ Mystic and four of them had 
died and were still unburied. Their tale of suffering was 
most deplorable, but I took these survivors on board my 
ship and succeeded in bringing them alive and well to 
J\ew Bedford. Many years afterwards, while sitting in a 
friend's office 111 New York, I suddenly heard my name 
called by a person present, who rushed up and threw 
his arms around my neck. He was a very large and 
rough looking fellow, and these were his words : 
"Sure's I'm a living man, this is the captain who saved 
my life at Cape Horn! Don't you know me, captain— 
the boy Jim whom you saved? I swow ! You haven't 
changed a darn bit since I last saw you. Come, I am a 
farmer now, over in the 'Jarsies,' and you must go over 
and let my wife see the man who saved Jim's life. Come 
and spend the whole summer with me." 
And then followed a long talk, and I felt very certain 
that my old shipmate, like all good sailors, had a very 
grateful heart. But I did not go to the "Jarsies," although 
it would have been pleasant to have had a talk with Jim's 
wife. 
And now, with one yarn more, I will conclude this let- 
ter. My vessel was a clipper, barque-rigged, a particular 
pet, and she always "carried an ivory bone in her mouth," 
as we say of a fast sailer. It was in the Southern Ocean, 
and we were cutting in a small whale, when early one 
morning we saw an English transport bearing down upon 
us. The captain spoke us, and asked if some of his pas- 
sengers might come aboard and see the process of cutting 
m. I consented, and among those who visited us was a 
young lady, accompanied by her brother. I did all the 
honors as well as 1 could, and gave them a good dinner. 
I he lady was greatly pleased, and told her brother she 
did not wish to return to the transport, but would like to 
remain on the beautiful American vessel. But this could 
not be, and when the time came for parting, I noticed a 
squall coming up from the offing, which induced me to 
take the visitors to their vessel in my own boat. After a 
hard pull of two hours, for the transport had drifted a 
great distance, I placed the party on board, and then the 
lady asked permission to give my crew a drink of brandy 
all round. I consented with reluctance, and was foolish 
enough to participate in the treat; and when it was ended, 
and we were bidding adieu, I accidentally backed off the 
gangway and fell into the sea, between the ship and our 
boat. I went down about thirty feet, and when I came up 
found myself -astern of the ship, about twenty rods off. 
Although the water was rough, I had strength to keep on 
the top, and it was not long before a life-boat reached me, 
and I was saved, but entirely helpless from exhaustion. 
And then it was that I heard of the fearful screams 
which my lady friend had uttered when she thought her- 
self the cause,of my death, and also that it was by her 
own hands that, the life-boat had been lowered which 
saved me frqm drowning. When, after many hours, I 
had reached my own vessel again, and reflected on all 
that had happened,' I solemnly resolved that I would 
never again touch one particle of any kind of intoxicating 
drink, and I have never broken my vow down to the 
present day. Had I been drowned, the owner of the ves- 
sel would have lost heavily, and as all I then possessed 
was invested in that ship, my widow would have been 
penniless. But: by the special mercy of the Creator, my life 
was saved; not only that, but after a cruise of fifteen 
months, circumnavigating the globe, I returned home 
with a full ship, and having thus acquired a little fortune, 
i concluded to coil up my ropes and anchor on shore for 
the balance of my days. L. 
Minnesota Forest Ways. 
Editor Forest and Stream 
In your issue of September 17, C. P. Ambler says he can- 
not agree with me in my idea of irrigation by a system 
of reservoirs made by means of road grading. Yet there 
13 no doubt but that water could be impounded by a road 
grade. Water held on an elevation is convenient for 
irrigation. Water held back in freshet times lessens the 
flood Tolume. That is all there is to the scientific part of 
the subject. Mr. Ambler's objections to my plan are all 
pretty fairly answered in article two of "Rebuild the 
Earth," printed in the same number of Forest and 
Stream that contained the objections. Mr. Ambler pro- 
poses to substitute forest reserves for my plan. That is 
simply dropping the main part of the plan. You cannot 
reforest a desert without water. Neither has the natural 
forest proved adequate to the task of preventing flood and 
drouth. 
It is only a few years since the first timber was cut in 
the Rocky Mountains, yet the rainless deserts have ex- 
isted for many centuries. The only forests I know of 
that are nurtured by abundant moisture — those of the 
mountains — are nurtured by the deep snows of winter 
which melt and water the soil in summer, and by pre- 
cipitation caused by the cooling process when moisture- 
laden air crosses the mountain tops. In the north they 
are nurtured by countless lakes or natural reservoirs, and 
by streams. True forests are nature's reservoirs, and 
should be preserved and added to. But before forests can 
be builded in the waste places there must be water. There 
must be a beginning before there can be fulfillment 
Hence we talk of things we know we shall never live to 
see. 
The forests will never be preserved to any great extent 
as long as political parties can use them to pay political 
debts with. Neither is it wise to preserve forests in their 
entirety. Such timber as is fit for lumber should be cut 
and used. The villainy is in cutting what is handiest and 
leaving the waste to burn and destroy the rest. 
Here in the country from which I now write (the lake 
lands of northern Minnesota) is another argument 
against the reservoir system. In most places where 
nature has constructed reservoirs in the form of lakes, the 
Government has supplemented the work by building dams 
across their outlets, thus increasing capacity. Ostensibly 
this was done to maintain an even flow of the streams, 
preventing floods and _ assisting navigation; in reality to 
assist the lumbermen in stripping the earth of its timber 
supply. In the fall the dams are closed and the water 
is allowed to accumulate during the winter. When the 
lakes are frozen the lumbermen haul the logs out upon 
the ice or bank them along the stream. In the spring, 
when there is a natural freshet, the dams are raised that 
logs may be floated out of the lake and down stream to 
market This surplus, added to the natural freshet, causes 
