pulls the foremost oar—is harpooner, though
not bearing that title, for it is unknown to
South Sea whalers. He strikes the fish, and,
as soon as possible, goes aft and takes the
steer-oar; that is why he is called also boat-steerer.
The headsman then takes his station
in the bows, tends the line, and prepares to
lance the whale when she rises. That is all
I have to tell about the routine of a whale
boat, and so now I can go on with my story.

Another boat lowered soon after we left the
ship and pulled in our wake; she followed as
a " pick up boat " in case of accident. The
ship—which had still a boat's crew and the
idlers aboard—with yards braced sharp up,
and the leech of the top-gallant sail touching,
was laying a course nearly parallel to our own.
The chief mate " headed " the boat in which I
rowed, and we had with us the best boat-steerer
in the ship. Both were anxious to be
first " fast " to the first whale of the season.
For me, it was the first whale of my life, and,
though I had been rather scared by the tough
yarns of the old stagers about being " chawed
up by whales,'' and eaten alive by sharks,
yet the active exercise and rapid motion
soon stirred my blood, and I shared fully in
the general excitement. Three of our crew
were natives of Tasmania (born of English
parents), the best boatmen and the most
daring whalers in the world; and, impelled
by their powerful strokes, our boat was soon
considerably ahead of the others. Though
able to pull a good oar in a common way, I
quickly found that this was very different
sport to any that I had before attempted.
Our tough ash oars of eighteen feet length
bent and buckled with the strain. The boat
sprang from each vigorous stroke, and
hummed through the water as a bullet
through the air. The headsman standing in
the stern, with the peg of the steer-oar
grasped in his left hand, stamped and raved
with excitement, throwing his body forward
in sympathy with each stroke, and with the
right hand "backing up" the after oar with
all his strength. At the same time, he was
encouraging and urging us to fresh exertions,
making the most absurd promises in case of
success, and threatening the boat-steerer with
all sorts of avful consequences if he missed
the whale. By this time we were in sight of
the school, and, turning my head, I could
distinguish several of the low bushy spouts
of the sperm whale, and catch an occasional
glimpse of a huge black mass rolling in the
water. But there was no time for contemplation.
Another boat was creeping up to us,
and we were yet some distance from the
game.

The headsman grew more frantic. " Give
way, my sons! Lift her to it! Long strokes!
Pile it on, my hearties! Well done, Derwenters!
I've three pretty sisters you shall
pick from. There she blows again! Twenty
minutes more, and it's our whale." Suddenly
his face changed. " Turned flukes! " said he.
The whales had disappeared, and with
peaked oars we lay motionless on the water
waiting their return to the surface. In. a
few minutes, a short gush of steam and spray
broke midway between the two boats. Half-a-dozen
long strokes. " Steady, my lads,
softly, so ho! Stand up! " and the boat-steerer,
peaking his oar, took his place in the
bows. " Into her! Starn all! " shouted the
headsman. Both irons were buried in the
whale, which lay for an instant perfectly still,
whilst we backed hastily. Then the great
black flukes rose into the air, and the whale
"sounded " or dived, the line running out of
the tub, round the loggerhead at the stern
and out at the head, with wonderful velocity.
The wood smoked and cracked with the
friction, and the boat's head sank under the
pressure.

More than half the line was carried out
before it slacked, and in the moment that it
did so, we began to haul in again and coil
away in the tub. But the " struck fish"
quickly appeared, the momentum acquired in
rising carrying him nearly clean out of the
water. He was evidently " gallied " (frightened),
making short darts in different directions;
but, as the boat approached, he
started otf, " eyes out," at full speed. The
line was now checked by a turn round the
loggerhead, and only allowed to surge out
gradually. The boat's velocity became
terrific. We were carried through the water
at the rate of nearly twenty miles an hour.
Our little craft swept on in a deep trough; a
huge wave of foam rolling ahead of us, and
two green walls rising above the gunwale,
threatening every moment to descend upon
the boat, already half filled by the blinding
spray. But, the huge animal to which our
boat was harnessed soon tired of this labour,
the line again slackened, and the monster lay
on the surface writhing in agony, snapping
his enormous jaws, and furiously lashing
with his tail. As we coiled away the line,
and as the distance between us and our prey
decreased, I will candidly own that I was as
"gallied " as the whale itself, and would have
given my own share of him to have been
absent from the scene. Habit accustoms a
man even to whaling; but few men, when,
"fast," for the first time, feel altogether easy.
Our headsman stood coolly in the bows, lance
in hand, exclaiming—" Haul me up, and he's
a dead whale! A hundred barreller! Lay
me on, lads! " And with the boat's nose
nearly touching, he plunged a lance repeatedly
into its side. " Starn all! " The whale
started ahead, but the keen weapon had
reached " the life," and, spouting thick jets of
blood, he fell into the "flurry." That was a
tremendous spectacle. The enormous animal,
convulsed in the agonies of death, rapidly
circling in the midst of a dizzy whirl of blood
and foam, striking alternately with head and
tail, vast sheets of water flying from beneath
the mighty blows, which roared like cracks