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diff --git a/old/67446-h/67446-h.htm b/old/67446-h/67446-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index cce1189..0000000 --- a/old/67446-h/67446-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14444 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Modern Whaling & Bear-Hunting, by W. G. Burn Murdoch. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - -<style type="text/css"> - -a { - text-decoration: none; -} - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -h1,h2,h3 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -h2.nobreak { - page-break-before: avoid; -} - -hr { - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb { - border: none; - text-align: center; -} - -hr.tb:after { - content: ". . . . . . . . . ."; - color: black; - letter-spacing: 1em; -} - -hr.chap { - width: 65%; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; -} - -div.chapter { - page-break-before: always; -} - -ul { - list-style-type: none; -} - -li.indx { - margin-top: .5em; - padding-left: 2em; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -li.ifrst { - margin-top: 2em; - padding-left: 5em; -} - -li.isub1 { - padding-left: 4em; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -p { - margin-top: 0.5em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; - text-indent: 1em; -} - -p.dropcap { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -img.dropcap { - float: left; - margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; -} - -p.dropcap:first-letter { - color: transparent; - visibility: hidden; - margin-left: -0.9em; -} - -table { - margin: 1em auto 1em auto; - max-width: 40em; - border-collapse: collapse; -} - -td { - padding-left: 2.25em; - padding-right: 0.25em; - vertical-align: top; - text-indent: -2em; - text-align: justify; -} - -tr.pad td { - padding-top: 1.5em; -} - -.tdc { - text-align: center; - padding-top: 1em; - padding-bottom: 0.5em; -} - -.tdpg { - vertical-align: bottom; - text-align: right; -} - -.caption { - text-align: center; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-size: 90%; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.caption-sub { - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-size: 90%; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.center { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.figleft { - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-left: 0; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 1em; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; -} - -.figright { - float: right; - clear: right; - margin-left: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 0; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; -} - -.footnotes { - margin-top: 1em; - border: dashed 1px; -} - -.footnote { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - font-size: 0.9em; -} - -.footnote .label { - position: absolute; - right: 84%; - text-align: right; -} - -.fnanchor { - vertical-align: super; - font-size: .8em; - text-decoration: none; -} - -.larger { - font-size: 150%; -} - -.noindent { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: 4%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; -} - -.poetry-container { - text-align: center; - margin: 1em; -} - -.poetry { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .stanza { - margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; -} - -.poetry .verse { - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.poetry .indent0 { - text-indent: -3em; -} - -.poetry .indent2 { - text-indent: -2em; -} - -.poetry .indent6 { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.right { - text-align: right; -} - -.smaller { - font-size: 80%; -} - -.smcap { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; -} - -.allsmcap { - font-variant: small-caps; - font-style: normal; - text-transform: lowercase; -} - -.tb { - margin-top: 2em; -} - -.titlepage { - text-align: center; - margin-top: 3em; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.x-ebookmaker img { - max-width: 100%; - width: auto; - height: auto; -} - -.x-ebookmaker img.dropcap { - float: none; - margin: auto; -} - -.x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { - color: inherit; - visibility: visible; - margin-left: 0; -} - -.x-ebookmaker .poetry { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Modern Whaling & Bear-Hunting, by W. G. Burn Murdoch</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Modern Whaling & Bear-Hunting</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A record of present-day whaling with up-to-date appliances in many parts of the world, and of bear and seal hunting in the arctic regions</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: W. G. Burn Murdoch</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 19, 2022 [eBook #67446]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: deaurider and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN WHALING & BEAR-HUNTING ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus1"> -<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Lancing a Whale.</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">An eighteen-foot spear is the lance—half iron half wood. The pram is -swung out; and Jensen is handed the lance. We reach the whale and Jensen -makes a lunge, and the spear goes in five feet and is twisted out of his -hand; the vast body rolls over, the tail rises up and up and comes down -in a sea of foam.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> - -<p class="titlepage larger">MODERN WHALING<br /> -&<br /> -BEAR-HUNTING</p> - -<p class="center">A RECORD OF PRESENT-DAY WHALING WITH<br /> -UP-TO-DATE APPLIANCES IN MANY PARTS<br /> -OF THE WORLD, AND OF BEAR<br /> -AND SEAL HUNTING IN THE<br /> -ARCTIC REGIONS</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> -W. G. BURN MURDOCH, F.R.S.G.S.<br /> -<span class="smaller">AUTHOR OF<br /> -“FROM EDINBURGH TO THE ANTARCTIC”<br /> -“AN ILLUSTRATED PROCESSION OF SCOTTISH HISTORY”<br /> -“FROM EDINBURGH TO INDIA AND BURMAH”<br /> -<i>&c. &c. &c.</i></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">With 110 Illustrations<br /> -chiefly from Drawings & Photographs<br /> -by the Author</p> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">LONDON</span><br /> -SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED<br /> -<span class="smaller smcap">38 Great Russell Street</span><br /> -1917</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PUBLISHERS’ NOTE</h2> - -</div> - -<p>The readers of this book will be interested to learn -that the expedition from Dundee which set out for -the Antarctic regions in 1892 to the Weddell Sea, -south and east of Graham’s Land, and in which the author -of the present volume took part, was the first of its kind since -the famous expedition commanded by Sir James Ross in -1842. Dr W. S. Bruce, the distinguished polar traveller and -oceanographer, was the scientific naturalist, and Mr Burn -Murdoch, the author of this volume, was the artist and -historian of the expedition, which is described by his pen in -“From Edinburgh to the Antarctic.” It consisted of three -whaling vessels specially built of great strength to withstand -ice pressure, barque rigged and fitted with auxiliary steam -power. They were accompanied by a Norwegian barque of -similar type. The chief object of the expedition was the -capture of the Right or Bowhead whale by old methods, -from small boats. For three months these vessels were continuously -amongst the thick pack ice and enormous bergs on -the east side of Graham’s Land.</p> - -<p>The publication of the above-mentioned book, and lectures -by Dr Bruce and Mr Burn Murdoch, revived both at home -and abroad interest in the Antarctic regions, and in 1897 the -Belgica expedition followed in their wake, and this again was -followed by expeditions of various European nations.</p> - -<p>During the expedition of 1892-1893 vast numbers of the -largest-sized finner whales were observed in the neighbourhood -of Erebus and Terror Gulf, and between South Georgia -and the South Shetland Islands. The report brought home -of these whales being in such numbers led to the development -of the present great whaling industry in the Southern -Seas. Companies were formed and modern steam whalers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> -were sent South to hunt these powerful rorquals or finner -whales. The extent of this industry and the methods of -modern whaling are described in the first part of this volume.</p> - -<p>In the second part, which is concerned principally with -bear-hunting in the Arctic regions, some description is also -given of the old style of harpooning narwhals from small -boats.</p> - -<p class="tb">The publication of this volume has been held over owing -to the war. Part of the text was printed off, and it contains -references to events, current at the time, which, without -this explanation, might puzzle the reader. The prices of -the products of the whaling industry are for the same reason -more up to date in the Appendix than in the text.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LIST OF CONTENTS</h2> - -</div> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER I</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Planning a Modern Whaler—Towing a Whale—Our Whaler, - the Haldane, in Shelter—Balta Sound, Shetland—We plan - a Company—Our New Whaler, the St Ebba, in Tonsberg</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">17</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER II</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Norway to Tonsberg—Comparison between the Old Viking - Ships and our Modern Vessel—Similarity of Lines—Modern - Methods of Whaling—“Modern Whales” compared - with Old Style—Whales, Sperm—Right Whales—Finners—Tackling - a Finner with Old Style of Gear—Whaling - Stations—Utilisation of Whole Carcass—Whale - Products—Modern Whaling in Southern Hemisphere—Stations - round the World—Decrease and Increase in - Numbers of Whales—Natural Close Season—Increase of - Biscayan Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">21</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER III</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>In Southern Norway—Building our Whaler—Cutting Lance - Shafts—Tanks—Whale Lines—Outfit for Prolonged - Cruise—Rigging and Arrangements of Hull—Our Harpoon - Guns—The Henriksens of Tonsberg—Svend Foyn inventor—The - Henriksen Works—Early Experiments - with Modern Harpoon—Tonsberg Yacht Club—Tonsberg - Whaling Captains—Successors of Svend Foyn—Development - of Modern Whaling in South Atlantic—Weary - Waiting—Trial Run of Engine—Provisioning—At the - Rope Factory—Spinning our Whale Lines—Norwegian - Hospitality—The St Ebba’s First Journey—Studying - Charts—The Winch</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">27</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Clear St Ebba from Quay Side—Anchor in Sheltered Fiord—Getting - our Fishing Gear, Guns, etc., in order—Adjusting - Compass—Final Provisioning—Ammunition—The Islands - in the South Atlantic we hope to visit—A Fault in our - Accounts—Harpoon Gun Drill</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">38</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER V</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Leave South Norway for the Shetlands—Anchors foul—At - Sea at Last—Down the Skagerak in Calm—Picking up - Lights—Unpromising Weather—Half a Gale—Digging - into same Hole—Full Gale—St Ebba a Dry Ship—Hove - to—A Sick Crew—Our Cook—Engine will not start—Drifting - across North Sea to Yorkshire Coast—Recollection - of a Previous Whaling Voyage—All Hands to Air - Pump</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">45</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Drifting—Gale falling—Engines start—Set Sail—The Name - St Ebba—We put aside our Plans for Arctic Whaling—Fair - Isle Light—Sumburgh Light—Bressay and Lerwick—Quiet - and Greyness of Lerwick—Shetland Anæmic</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">53</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Waiting Part of Whaling—Before “grassing a Fish”—Waiting - in Japanese Seas—Poultry on a Whaler—Small - Whale Yarn—Tied up in Lerwick—“Customs” on Board—“Tearing - Tartan”—Entangled in Red Tape—Are we - Pirates?—A Mass of Fish and Cormorants—Shetlands - held in Pawn—A Burly Type of Old Whaler—About the - Old Dundee Whaling Captains—The Registrar braves - a Storm—Herring Catchers <i>versus</i> Whalers—British - Restrictions on Whaling Industry</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER VIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Visit to R. C. Haldane at Lochend—Return to St Ebba—Captain - Henriksen entertains the Board of Trade Inspector—Registers - our Tonnage at Sixty-nine Tons—A - Sunday Saturnalia of Shag Shooting—How to cook Shag - (Cormorants)—The Quiet of Lochend—Haldane’s White - House, Peat Fire and Illuminated Missals—Stories—Our - Shetland Whaling Station</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">64</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER IX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Extracts from Whaling Log and Sketch-Book—In Shetland—Sea-Trout - in the Voe—The Whaler Haldane calls for the - Writer—The Forty-Mile Limit—Seals and Birds—The - Modern Whale Gun—Difficulty of shooting it—Various - Whales—Their Names—Idyllic Sea—A Bad Day for - Whaling—Hunting—Freedom of the Sea—Try to blow - up Mackerel—Sabbath Calm—No Whales—Fascination - of watching for a Blow—Hark back to Shetland—New - Departure—A Bag of Wind—Across the Limit again—Fine - Weather—Æsthetics on a Whaler—A Blast, Whales - at last!—A Rough Chase—A Bull’s Eye at Forty Yards—Lost!</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">68</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER X</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Better Luck—Spectacular Effect—Whales and Rainbow—On - Chase—The Sea teems with Life—Our Chance comes—Heart-stopping - Excitement—A Close Shave—In Tow—Seventy - Tons in the Basket—Ten Whales in a Day—Vexatious - Government Restriction—Uses of Whale Meat, - Oil, and some Values in £ s. d.</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">80</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Whaling has its seamy Side—A Whale Hunt—Colours of the - Sea and Whales—In Tow—Whale is killed—Another - Whale—“Thrilling Dangers” of Whaling and Exceptional - Behaviour of Whales—Dangers of Whaling—Whale - Steak—Whale Guano as Fertiliser—Lancing a - Whale—Exquisite Colour of Whales—Pedigree of Whales—Rolling - Home, Two Whales in Tow</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">85</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Back to the St Ebba on West of Shetland—Fine Weather—No - Competition—All Hands busy but no Whales—Our Last - Night in Port—Out to the West—The Ramna Stacks as - Targets for H.M.S.—A Sailing Ship once more</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">97</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Fine Weather Chantey “California”—Back to Lochend—Cormorant - Hash—Up Anchor and leave the Shetlands—Cape - Wrath—Lewis—Dunvegan—Picking up Lights—South - to Tobermory—Our West Coast on a Dark Night—Ardnamurchan - and Coll—Morar, the Most Beautiful - Country in the World—Drimnin next, Glen Morven—Tobermory—Relatives - and the Lady of Aros Castle</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">102</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The British Fleet at Oban—A Union Jack made in Norway—St - George <i>versus</i> Imperial Idea—Violation of British - Constitution—John Knox a Sunday Golfer—Wives at Sea—A - Yarn—A Spy in Tobermory—The Tobermory Policeman</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">110</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Harvest Moon—Across the Irish Sea—Belfast—Origin of our - Name Scotland—Erin go Bragh—What brought us to - Ulster Day and the Covenant—The Crew’s Adventures—Greenhorns - in Ballymacarack Street—Down Channel for - the Azores—Spun Yarn—Deep-sea Swell—Inspection of - Rifles</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">115</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>N.E. Gale—“Oot o’ this intil a waur”—Into Deep Soundings—It - Blows Hard—Black Night and Phosphorescent - Wake—Oil on the Waters—Driving through—A Scrap of - Sail—Attempt at Dolphin Spearing—A Whale in Phosphorescent - Sea—An Idyllic Sunday—A Shoppie or Sale of - Clothes from the Slop Chest—Æsthetic Music—Grieg on - a Melodeon—M’Crimmon on Practice Chanter—Men who - have dreamed—A Demonstration on flensing a Whale—Dolphin - Steak and Onions—The Islands of the World</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">122</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A New Land (to us)—St Michael of the Azores—Bens and - Glens—Colour of the Island—Portuguese Pilot—Talk by - Signs—About Sperm Whales—Ponta Delgada—Its - Remarkable Beauty—Arcades—Colour Reflections—The - Inner Harbour—Sea Fishing—Bonita—A Trammel Net—Hunting - for Whales round the Island—Distress Signals—The - Wreck</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">130</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Notes about the Island—Compared with Madeira—Its Sights—The - Streets of Delgada—A Café—Vino Tinto—Guitar - Melody—Costumes—Chase Small Whales—Whales’ - Ocean Routes—“The Ladies’ Gulf”</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">139</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Sudden Gale—Driving on to a Lee Shore—Bad Night—Engine - Trouble—Killers attacking Whale—Recollections - of the Antarctic—Oddments—An Eight-Foot Ray - or Skate—A Jaunt on Shore—The Writer’s Excursion - to “The Seven Cities”—Up the Hills—Wind up Affairs - in Delgada—Up Anchor</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">146</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Leave the Azores and San Miguel—Madeira in Prospect and - Tunny Fishing—Whales at Last!—Sperm—A Chase—Prospects - of Success—Long Chase—Fast!—A Straight - Shot—A Bull Sperm—Cutting up a Sperm Whale’s - Anatomy—Sharks—Creeling a Shark Single-handed—Spermaceti - Oil—Blubber like Marble—Cooking Process—£. - s. d. on the Horizon—Sharks and Pilot Fish—General - Satisfaction—Whaling off Madeira</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">154</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Madeira at Dawn from the Sea—Description—Funchal - Flowers—Tunny Fishing—Early Morning Start—Splendid - Colours of Native Boats and Crews—Small Fry for - Bait—A Large Tunny caught by next Boat—Our Tunny - and Pulley-haul Fight—Sailing Back</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">165</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>We leave the North Atlantic—Engine Troubles—Slow Voyage - to Cape Town—New Engineer puts Diesel Engine right—Up - the East Coast of Africa—The Seychelles Islands—Many - Whales—We decide to make a Land Station—Apply - to Government for Licence</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Going to the Arctic—Objects in View—Our Little Company in - the Fonix—Rough Weather—The First Ice—Draw for - Watches—A Party lost in the Ice and a possible Cure for - Scurvy—A Lunatic in the Ice—The Coming Spanish - Arctic Expedition—Clay Pigeons—Fencing—We aim at - Shannon Island—North-East Greenland—Ice Floes and - Mist</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">179</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Arctic Ice compared to Antarctic Ice—Colours of the Floes—First - Blood—Habits of Arctic Seals compared with those - of the Antarctic—Stopped in the Floes—Cobalt Ice Water—White - Bears’ “Protective Colouring”?—Watching a - Bear Hunt—Flea of <i>Ursus Maritimus</i>—Scoresby on the - Danger of Bear-hunting</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">187</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Six Bears in the Twenty-four Hours—A Bear’s Meal—C. A. - Hamilton’s Veteran Bear—The Writer and a Bear stalk - each other—Tips for Animal Painters—Sensation facing - a Bear at Three in the Morning—Bear Flesh as Food—The - colour of the Polar Regions—Method of pulling a - live Bear on Board—A Bear eating a Seal</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">196</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXVI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Waiting for Whales—Narwhals at last!—Our She-Cook—An - Arctic Sanatorium—A Shark—Arctic Seals and Seals of - the Antarctic—Our Bear’s Food—<i>L’éscrime</i>—Rifle, - Pistol, Lasso—Lasso our Starboard Bear—Morning - Watch in the Ice—Ivory Gulls, Fulmars, Skuas—Small - Life—More Bears—A Bear Stalk before Breakfast—Fears - about reaching Greenland—Bears on Board—Cachés in - Franz Joseph Land—Bear Stories—“The Ends of our - Garden”</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXVII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Walk on the Floe—Bear takes a Football—Lasso Practice—A - Piece of Driftwood—The Bagpipes—Pushing West—A - Cold Bath—Chasing a Bear and Cubs—Lost in Mist—Clever - Mother Bear—Bear-hunting, a Man killed—Expectations - of Walrus</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">219</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXVIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Narwhal and a Bear in the Bag—Missing Whales—Old - Style of Whale Gun—Svend Foyn’s Cure for Toothache—Is - Whaling an “Industry” or a “Speculation”?—Whales - “Tail up”—Excitement of Whaling—Svend - Foyn overboard—Floe Rats—Bears struggle for Freedom—Size - and Strength of Bears—The Silence of the Arctic—Seals—Painting - Ice Effects—Our Gifted Steward and our - Vivandière on the Ice—A Bear on the Floe Edge</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">231</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Arctic and Antarctic Floes compared—The Writer, the Bear - and our “She-Cook”—Bear bids for Freedom—Rope-throwing—An - Artist’s Points in a Little Seal Stalk—Man - and his Works in Arctic and Antarctic—Whales’ Food</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">240</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXX</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>On Sitting up late—Harp Seals—Young Bears and Seniors—A - Family Party—An Ice Grotto—A Hot Grog and - Another Bear—A Tight Place</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">248</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>All Hands to secure the Bears—Two Bear Cubs captured—Invidious - Comparisons between the Starboard and Port - Bear—Another Bear for the Larder—Greenland’s Icy - Mountains—A Blue Seal—“Starboard” makes more - Trouble—A Spanish Yarn—Why the Harp Seal blows its - Nose</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">256</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Sports on the Floe—Notes on Protective Coloration</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">263</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Bear Cubs, “Christabel” and “William the Silent”—Bottle-nose - Whales—Bear <i>versus</i> Bull—The Dons back the Bull!—Getting - out of the Pack to Open Water—Meet Spitzbergen - Ice</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">276</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXIV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>We get out of the Ice—Open Sea again—Spanish Airs—Killers—A - Whaler’s Esperanto—Killers attacking a - Rorqual—A Gleam of Sun—Then Rough Weather—Then - Shelter in a Fiord—Beards off and Shore Togs—Our - Engineer’s Children and the Bagpipes</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">281</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXV</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Trömso again—Down the Coast—Selling our Bears—Bears - Escape—Eat the Fish in Market-place—We put our Bears - into New Cages—Notes amongst the Norwegian Islands—Recollections - of Hunting—Fishing—Music—A Viking Air—Talk - in the Smoking-room—Drawings of Whale’s - Structure</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">287</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXVI</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Killers—Stomach of Whales—Grampuses and Whales—William - and the Mandolin—The “Prophet”—Hard - Waves—Back to Trömso</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">291</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXVII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Teetotal Travellers—Fate of the Bears—Bears at large—Trondhjem—Folk - Songs</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">300</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXXVIII</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Whalebone—Whales’ Food—Head of Sperm Whale—Value - of Whale Oil</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">308</a></td> - </tr> - <tr class="pad"> - <td>APPENDIX</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#APPENDIX">312</a></td> - </tr> - <tr class="pad"> - <td>INDEX</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#INDEX">317</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -</div> - -<table summary="List of illustrations"> - <tr> - <td>Lancing a Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus1"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Piping in the Arctic</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus2">24</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Modern Whale Gun and Harpoon</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus3">24</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Stern View of the St Ebba</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus4">40</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The St Ebba in the Fiord of the Vikings</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus5">40</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Dead Seal on the Floe Edge</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus6">48</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Mouth of a Finner Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus7">72</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Leaving our Two Whales at the Station</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus8">76</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Finner Whale being cut up</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus9">76</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Towing a Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus10">80</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Two Whales being hauled on a Slip</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus11">88</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Flensing Blubber off a Polar Bear’s Skin</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus12">102</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Whale Under Side up</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus13">102</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The St Ebba Motor Whaler in Oban</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus14">112</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Arcades at Ponta Delgada</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus15">136</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Tunny on the Beach at Madeira</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus16">136</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Killers attacking a Finner Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus17">152</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cutting up a Cachalot Whale</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus18">156</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Sperm Whale sounding</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus19">156</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Trying to get rid of the Lasso</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus20">157</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Cutting up Sperm Blubber</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus21">158</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Hauling Sperm Whale’s Flipper and Blubber on Board</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus22">160</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Sleeping Bear and Cubs</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus23">168</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Dead Bear</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus24">184</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Reloading a Gun with a Harpoon</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus25">192</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Towing a big Bear’s Skin</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus26">192</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Last Cartridge</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus27">200</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Arctic Shark</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus28">208</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Modern Steam Whaler</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus29">208</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Fulmar Petrels</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus30">216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Starboard being hauled on Board</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus31">216</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>A Polar Bear</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus32">224</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The End of the Trail</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus33">232</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Towing Two Bear Cubs</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus34">264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Captain’s Polar Bear Cub</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus35">264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Bears in the Water</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus36">272</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Our Last Glimpse of the Ice</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus37">288</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Our Engineer’s Daughter</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus38">296</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Photo of Starboard</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus39">304</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>Species of Whales</td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus40">310</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<a href="images/st-ebba-full.jpg"><img src="images/st-ebba.jpg" width="600" height="450" alt="" /></a> -<p class="caption">ST. EBBA</p> -<p class="caption">(click for larger version)</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h1>MODERN WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING</h1> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> - -</div> - -<p>It blows, it blows, at Balta Sound, a cold, strong wind, -and yet we are in June. I think it always blows at -this northern end of Shetland, but we on our little -steam-whaler, the Haldane, are sheltered from the sea by -the low green shore and the low peaty hills half shrouded -in mist.</p> - -<p>One after another herring steam-drifters come up the -loch and collect round the hulk of a retired sailing-ship to -sell their catch on board it by auction. The hull of the -wooden ship is emerald-green and the small sombre-coloured -steamers crowd around it. On their black funnels each shows -its registered number in white between belts of vivid scarlet, -blue or yellow.</p> - -<p>Our Haldane lies at anchor somewhat aloof from these -herring-boats, as becomes our dignity and position, for we -are whalers!—in from deep-sea soundings—hunters of the -mighty leviathan of the deep, the Balænoptera Sibbaldii, the -Balænoptera Borealis, the Balænoptera musculus: commonly -called Blue, all of which we call Finners, the largest mammals -living or extinct. We are smaller than the herring-drifters. -They are a hundred to a hundred and twenty feet long and -we are only ninety-five, still we consider ourselves superior: -are we not distinguished by a crow’s nest at our short foremast, -and all the lines of our hull are classic—bow and stern -somewhat after the style of the old Viking ships—meant for -rapid evolutions, not merely for carrying capacity?</p> - -<p>Our colour is light greenish khaki, and if red lead paint -and rust show all over our sides, it is an honourable display<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -of wounds from fights with sea and whales—better -than herring scales!</p> - -<p>We enjoy the enforced rest: all last night we towed a big -whale alongside—seventy tons’ weight in a rising gale! The -bumps and thumps and jerks and aroma were very tiresome.</p> - -<p>We towed it ninety miles from the outer ocean to our station -at Colla Firth, on Mr R. C. Haldane’s property of Lochend, in -the early morning (it is light all night here), and left it -floating at the buoy, went alongside the trestle pier, helped -ourselves to more coal, and slipped away again before the -station hands had time to rub their eyes or show a foot.</p> - -<p>We came up through the islands, ran to the north of -Shetland, passed Flugga Light, then turned tail like any -common fishing-boat and ran back before a rising gale to -this Balta Sound on the east for shelter.</p> - -<p>Our little Haldane doesn’t care a straw for heavy weather, -but we on board her can’t harpoon well or manage a whale in -heavy seas, so “weathering it out” only means waste of -coal.</p> - -<p>Therefore we spend the morning in shelter, tramping our -very narrow bridge (three steps and a spit, as the sailors say), -and we talk and sometimes go into our tiny chart-room -and draw; and Henriksen plays Grieg on the melodeon! -Henriksen is a whaler by profession, an artist under the -skin; and the writer is an artist by profession and harpooneer -on this journey from choice and after long waiting.</p> - -<p>As we draw and chat we notice with admiration Swedish -line-boats like the Norwegian pilot-boat in type, sailing-boats -with auxiliary motors, coming up the loch with their sails -down, pit-put-a-put, dead in the wind’s eyes! We know -they have been cod and ling fishing in the North Atlantic -for several months, and are now full of fish packed in ice.</p> - -<p>“Ah,” sighs Henriksen, “if I had a boat half the size of -this Haldane, with a motor and crude oil like them, I’d make -a good thing of whaling round the world,” and the artist -agrees, for both have seen many whales in far-away seas. -Henriksen knows the Japanese seas where there are Right -whales—Australis with bone, and Sperm, or Cachalot, with -spermaceti; and the writer has seen sperm in other warm<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -seas in numbers, and big Finners or Rorquals in the Antarctic -seas by the thousand. So we blow big smokes in the chart-room -and draw plans in the sketch-book of a new type of -whaler. And she will be a beauty!</p> - -<p>The Haldane we are on is second to none of the modern -kind of steam-whaler, and we have killed many whales with -her up to seventy or eighty tons in weight. But she requires -to be frequently fed with coal, and has to tow her catch -ashore, possibly one or two whales, or even three at a time, -for thirty, forty or even ninety miles to leave them to be cut -up at the station.</p> - -<p>We plan a vessel that shall be able to keep the sea for a -long time without calling for fuel like these Swedish motor-boats, -and that will hunt whales and seals round the world, -and carry the oil and bone of its catch on board.</p> - -<p>Can there be any drawing more fascinating than the designing -of a new type of vessel for whaling round the world, -for warm seas where the grass and barnacles will grow on -her keel, and for high latitudes where cold seas and perhaps -ice will polish her plates all clean again?</p> - -<p>So after some more whaling and planning, round the -Shetlands in fine weather and storm, the writer goes south -with rough plans, and in a few days two good men and true -have agreed to be directors of a little whaling company; -and, the whaling season over, Henriksen goes home to Norway, -and with a shipbuilder they draw out our plan in detail, for -a new patent Diesel motor-whaler for hunting all kinds of -whales and whaling-grounds round the world, a combination -of the old style and new, with sails and motor to sail round -the world if need be with never a call at any port for food -or fuel.</p> - -<p>All winter Henriksen the whaler and another Henriksen -a shipbuilder toiled at the planning and building of the St -Ebba, Henriksen driving every day from his farm five miles -into Tonsberg with his sleigh behind slow Swartzen; and the -writer pursued his calling in Edinburgh, receiving occasionally -fascinating drawings or detail plans of the whaler in white -line on blue paper, and then he joined Henriksen in summer -in South Norway and both together they drove out and in to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -Tonsberg, behind slow Swartzen, day after day for weeks, -till weeks ran into months, and it seemed as if our ship would -never be done.</p> - -<p>A coal strike in Britain was the first cause of delay, our -Colville plates were kept back by that. Still, we had her -launched in little more than a twelvemonth from the time -we first planned her, which we thought after all was not -half bad.</p> - -<p>We called her the St Ebba—why, it is hard to say.</p> - -<p>It would take volumes to describe the trouble there is in -preparing a boat for such a purpose, especially a new type -such as ours. Further on in this book the reader will be -able to understand from the drawings and descriptions the -different styles of whalers of the past and present.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> - -</div> - -<p>In August I went to Tonsberg, the capital of the old -Viking days, and over the wooden housetops saw the -two bare pole masts of our ship and a little later -saw her entire hull! How infinitely satisfactory, to see -our dream of a year ago in Balta Sound realised in hard iron -and pine on the slip. She is one hundred and ten feet over all, -with twenty-two-foot beam—just a few feet longer than -the Viking ship of the Norwegian princes that was found a -year or two ago buried within a mile and a half of where our -vessel is being built. Tonsberg was the Viking centre, now -it is the centre of the modern whaling industry of the world.</p> - -<p>Years ago we thought of whaling as connected with the -hunting of whales in the Arctic regions, or of cachalot or -sperm whaling in sub-tropical seas, carried on by sailing-vessels -which had several small boats and large crews: in -the eighteenth century 35,000 men and 700 vessels hunted -the Greenland Right whale.</p> - -<p>This modern whaling, however, that I write about just -now is a new kind of whaling of only forty-eight years’ -growth. It has grown up as the old styles went more or -less out of practice.</p> - -<p>Two or three New Bedford sailing-ships still prosecute the -old style of sperm whaling south of the line, but the Greenland -Right whale hunting has been almost entirely given up -within the last two years. The Dundee whalers gave it up -in 1912, because this new whaling brought down the price -of whale oil, and because the Right whale or whalebone -whale, Balæna Mysticetus, had become scarce and so wary -that it could not be killed in sufficient numbers to pay -expenses.</p> - -<p>This Balæna or whalebone whale has no fin on its back.</p> - -<p>A large Right whale, or Bowhead, as it is sometimes called, -has nearly a ton of whalebone in its mouth, which a few years<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -ago was worth about £1500 per ton; previously it was worth -as much as £3000 per ton, so one good whale paid a trip. It -was pursued from barques like the one below—sailing-ships -with auxiliary steam and screw, fifty men of a crew, and small -boats, each manned with five men, with a harpoon gun in -its bows, or merely a hand harpoon. When the harpoon was -fired and fixed into the whale, it generally dived straight -down, and when exhausted from want of air, came up and -was dispatched with lances or bombs from shoulder guns; -they measured from forty to fifty-five feet.</p> - -<p>On another page is a small picture of the sperm or -cachalot, valuable for its spermaceti oil, and for ambergris, -a product found once in hundreds of whales caught. It is a -toothed whale and carries no whalebone.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing1.jpg" width="500" height="225" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>But during the centuries these Right whales and sperm -were being killed there were other larger and much more -powerful whales, easily distinguished from the “Right -whales” by the fin on their backs. These were to be -found in all the oceans and were unattacked by men. They -have only a little whalebone in their mouths and were much -too powerful to be killed by the old methods.</p> - -<p>Once or twice the old whalers by accident harpooned one -of these “modern whales” or finners, and the tale of their -adventure, as told by one of Mr Bullen’s Yankee harpooneers, -bears out exactly what we ourselves experienced down in -the Antarctic, off Graham’s Land, in 1892-1893, when one of -our men tried to do the same. We had been for months -hopelessly looking for Right whale and only saw these big -finners in great numbers close alongside of our boats, so one -of our harpooneers in desperation fastened to one.</p> - -<p>In his book, “The Cruise of the Cachalot,” Mr Bullen<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -describes sighting a finner whilst they were hunting the -more pacific sperm or cachalot. Bullen asks his mentor, -a coloured harpooneer, why he doesn’t harpoon it, when -Goliath the harpooneer turns to him with a pitying look, -as he replies:</p> - -<p>“Sonny, ef yeu wuz to go and stick iron into dat ar fish -yew’d fink de hole bottom fell eout kerblunk. Wen I wiz -young’n foolish, a finback ranged ’longside me one day off -de Seychelles. I just gone miss’a spam whale, and I was -kiender mad—muss ha’ bin. Wall, I let him hab it blam -’tween de ribs. If I lib ten tousan year, ain’t gwine ter fergit -dat ar wan’t no time ter spit, tell ye; eberybody hang ober -de side ob de boat. Wuz-poof! de line all gone, Clar to glory, -I neber see it go. Ef it hab ketch anywhar, nobody ever see -us too. Fus, I fought I jump ober de side—neber face de -skipper any mo’.”</p> - -<p>I have described our similar experience elsewhere—Weddel -sea in the Antarctic—with the old-style whaling tackle and -a hundred to one hundred and ten foot blue whale or finner. -It took out three miles of lines from our small boats—the -lines were got hold of from board ship, and the whale towed -the procession for thirty hours under and over ice, on to rocks; -then the harpoons drew, and it went off “with half Jock -Todd’s smithy shop in its tail”—our sailor’s parlance for its -going off with most of our shoulder gun explosive bombs in -its lower lumbar regions. These big fellows were so numerous -in the ice off Graham’s Land that we sometimes thought it -advisable to keep them off our small boats with rifle bullets.</p> - -<p>Now we can kill these big fellows. Captain Svend Foyn, -a Norwegian, mastered them by developing a new harpoon. -Svend Foyn and the engineer Verkseier H. Henriksen in -Tonsberg worked it out together. A big harpoon fired from -a cannon, a heavy cable and a small steamer combined -made the finner whales man’s prey. Captain Foyn had -made a considerable fortune at Arctic seal-hunting, and -thereafter spent five years of hard and unsuccessful labour -before he perfected his new method in 1868. Eighteen years -later there were thirty-four of such steamers engaged in the -industry in the North Atlantic, to-day there are sixty-four<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> -hunting from the Falkland Islands and other dependencies. -In the neighbourhood of Cape Horn last year their gross -return amounted to £1,350,000.</p> - -<p>These Balænoptera, averaging fifty to ninety feet, are fast -swimmers and when harpooned go off at a great speed and -require an immense harpoon to hold them, and when dead -they sink, and their weight is sufficient to haul a string of -small boats under the sea. To bring them to the surface a -very powerful hawser is attached to the harpoon, and is -wound up by a powerful steam winch on the ninety-foot -steamer, which can be readily towed by the whale, but which -is also sufficiently buoyant to pull it to the surface when it -is dead and has sunk.</p> - -<p>In order that a whale may not break this five-inch hawser -(or five and a half inches in circumference) the little vessel -or steamer must be fairly light and handy, so as to be easily -swung round. If the steamer were heavy and slow, the hawser, -however thick, would snap, as it sometimes does even with -the small vessel when the whale puts on a sudden strain.</p> - -<p>In the old style the Greenland whale which floated when -it was dead was pulled alongside the sailing-vessel, when -the whalebone was cut out of its mouth and stowed on -board, as was also the fat or blubber, and the carcass was -left to go adrift. The sperm also floats when dead.</p> - -<p>But the “modern whales,” as I call them, when killed are -towed ashore and pulled upon a slip at a station or alongside -a great magazine ship anchored in some sheltered bay and are -there cut up, whilst the little steam-whaleboat killer goes off -in search of other whales. All parts of the body, at a fully -equipped shore station, even the blood, of these finners are -utilised, the big bones and flesh being ground up into guano -for the fertilisation of crops of all kinds, and the oil and small -amount of whalebone are used for many purposes. The oil -is used for lubrication, soap, and by a new “hardening -process” is made as firm as wax and is used for cooking, -etc. Some of the whalebone fibre is used for stiffening silk -in France, but of these uses of the products we may only -give the above indication, for every year or two some new -use is being found for whale products.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus2"> -<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Piping in the Arctic</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus3"> -<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Modern Whale Gun and Harpoon</span></p> -<p class="caption">Ready for firing.</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p> - -<p>Though so large, these whales are not nearly so valuable as -the Greenland whale; still their numbers make up for their -comparatively small value.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> - -<p>In the last five or six years these finner whales, formerly -unattacked by man, have been hunted all round the world. -In 1911 there were one hundred and twenty modern steam-whalers -working north of the Equator, and in the Southern -Hemisphere there were eighty-six. The total value of the -catch for the year was estimated at two and three quarter -million sterling.</p> - -<p>These whales are rapidly becoming more shy and wary, still -the catches increase and the value of oil goes up. The more -unsophisticated whales in unfished oceans will have soon to -be hunted. There is not the least fear of whales ever being -exterminated, for long before that could happen, owing to -reduced numbers and their increased shyness, hunting them -will not pay the great cost incurred. So there will some day -be a world-wide close season—just as has happened in the -case of the Greenland whale, which is now enjoying a close -season and is increasing in numbers in the Arctic seas.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing2.jpg" width="500" height="175" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">NORD CAPPER</p> -<p class="caption">BALÆNA AUSTRALIS</p> -</div> - -<p>Captain T. Robertson of the Scotia in 1911, though he -came home with a “clean ship,” saw over forty of the -Mysticeti east of Greenland, but could not get near them, for -they kept warily far in amongst the ice floes.</p> - -<p>The sperm whale is also recovering in numbers. I have -seen them in great numbers only last year in warm southern -waters, where twenty years ago they had become very -scarce.</p> - -<p>We must mention here another whale that was actually -supposed to be extinct. This is the Biscayensis, commonly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> -called a Nordcapper; it is a small edition of the Greenland -Right whale and is practically identical with the Australis -of the Southern Seas.</p> - -<p>This is the first whale we read of being hunted; in the -Bay of Biscay and along the west of Europe it was supposed -to have become extinct, but of recent years we have found -them in considerable numbers round the coasts of Shetland -and Ireland; a few years ago there were, I think, eighty of -them captured in the season.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> - -</div> - -<p>It does not surprise me that the Vikings of the olden -days used to leave the southern coast of Norway for -summer visits to our Highlands and western isles, for -the climate in this Southern Norway in August is most -relaxing; there is absolutely nothing of that feeling of -“atmospheric champagne” that you expect to enjoy in -Northern Norway in summer.</p> - -<p>We drive into Tonsberg from Henriksen’s farm every -morning, and after spending the day in the shipyard, come -out again in the evening with our ears deafened with the -rattle of steam-hammers on iron bolts, rivets and plates. -And at night in the quiet of the country we pore over -Admiralty charts of the world, especially those of islands -down in the South Atlantic, about which we have special -knowledge, where we hope our new whaler will pick up -cargoes of whales and of seals.</p> - -<p>Our first Sunday off work, 4th August, came as quite -a relief, the quiet of the country was so welcome. We -wandered through the fields of Henriksen’s farm with his -wife and their jolly children, and Rex, the liver-and-white -collie, smuggled into Norway from Shetland, then through -woods and heather till we came by an ancient road to the -summit of a little hill and the remains of a Viking watch-tower, -where we lay amongst blaeberries and heather and -enjoyed the wide view of sea and islands at the entrance to -Christiania Fiord, a pretty place to dream in and plan raids -to the Southern Seas. As we rambled homewards through -the pine wood that belongs to the farm we selected fir-trees -to be cut down later for boat masts, lance shafts and flensing -blades.</p> - -<p>By the end of August we realise that our small ship is -rapidly approaching completion. What a little while ago -was only unkindly iron ribs and plates, with the added<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -woodwork of the deck and masts, has now become a little -more personal, and more homelike. We have had our engine -hoisted from the slipside by a great crane and slowly and -tenderly sunk into the engine-room, a very modern six-cylinder -Diesel motor made in Stockholm. The fo’c’sle is -well aired and lighted, and is fitted up with comfortable -bunks and mattresses on wire stretchers. Each man has a -long chest beside his bed, for we believe in making the men -as comfortable as the after-guard.</p> - -<p>The binnacle is now on the bridge, in front of the wheel; -its bright new brass looks resplendent; and two hermetically -closed boilers we have fixed on deck on either side under -the bridge for boiling down whale blubber at sea.</p> - -<p>Our hull forward of the engine-room is made up of iron -tanks, and in these we hold crude oil for the engine. They -will be filled, we hope, by whale oil and whalebone as we use -up the crude oil for the engine’s fuel.</p> - -<p>Above the most forward tanks is the hold, where we shall -stow our whale lines—light lines for sperm or cachalot, or -the small Right whale, Australis, of the Southern Seas, and -our heavy lines for the great fighting finners will be in two -bins to port and starboard. Forward of the hold there is the -fo’c’sle and men’s quarters, with more space under their -floor in the peak for more spare lines and sailcloth, and many -other necessaries for a prolonged whaling cruise.</p> - -<p>We have a small cabin aft, below deck, with four -little cabins off it—to starboard, the captain’s; the writer’s -temporary berth is to port, to be used later for any -extra officer or pilot or for stores; the first mate’s and -first engineer’s cabin are a little aft on either side of the -companionway.</p> - -<p>The iron galley with its small cooking-stove is forward, on -deck, and attached to it we have a mess-room, into which -four or even five of us can squeeze at one time for meals.</p> - -<p>Aft of this mess-room and the foremast we have a very -important part of our gear, a powerful winch driven by a -donkey steam-engine. This is our reel, to wind up or let out -our line, the five-inch cable when we play a finner. The line -passes five or six times round two grooved barrels of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> -winch, and with it we haul up to the surface the dead whale. -But more about this winch when we tackle a whale.</p> - -<p>The 9th of August was a great day for us, for we started -our 200 h.p. engines, and drove them at half-speed for an -hour and never moved an inch, for the very good reason -that our bows were still against the quayside. How quietly -and simply they work. We then got our big traveller fixed -across our deck for the sheet of our foresail. We are schooner -rigged, foresail and mainsail both the same size, and count -on doing eight to ten knots with engine, and six or seven with -a fine breeze and sails alone.</p> - -<p>In the morning we look at our guns in the harpoon factory. -The gun or cannon for the bow weighs about two tons. It is -already in position; the bollard on which it pivots is part -of the iron structure of the bows and goes right down to -our forefoot. Its harpoons weigh one and a half hundredweight: -we shall take twenty-five of these, and forty -smaller harpoons for sperm or cachalot or Right whale. -On either side of the bows there is a smaller gun pivoting -on a bollard to fire these harpoons. These two small -guns and our twenty-five big harpoons and forty of the -smaller size we find arranged in order at the works—a -charming sight to us. Harold Henriksen, the builder -of our ship, takes us to these works, where his brother -Ludwig and his father make the harpoons and guns that are -now sent all over the world. The father is very greatly -respected in Tonsberg; he is called the “Old Man Henriksen,” -to distinguish him from the younger member of his -family. I have already mentioned him as being co-partner -with the famous Svend Foyn, the inventor of the new big -harpoon for finner whales.</p> - -<p>He has made many inventions for marine work on all -kinds of ships, for which he has received many medals, and -only lately he received a decoration from the hands of his -king, which is shown in the portrait given by him to the -writer, a rare and highly appreciated gift.</p> - -<p>He is seventy-eight years old and sails his own cutter -single-handed. I wish there were space here to tell of his -experiences whilst working with Svend Foyn developing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -the big harpoon. He takes us round the works, where forty -years of fire and iron have made their mark; remains of -failures are there; of burnt building and scrapped metal, -but, besides, there are these fascinating stacks of modern -harpoons and piles of their shell points to be used for great -hunting in all seas.</p> - -<p>The “Old Man” chuckles as we wander from forge to -forge and out amongst the geraniums in the yard as he tells -me how the first harpoon they tried went over the walls of -the works and landed through the umbrella of an old lady -in the street, and stood upright between the cobblestones. -You may believe they practised out of town after that! -Though old—seventy-eight years to-day—he is enthusiastic -about our new plan of whaling. He has formed a yacht -club; everyone yachts at Tonsberg. It is on a small island -of little plots of grass between boulders and small fir-trees. -We were invited there to-day for the celebration of his birthday. -There were ladies in pretty summer dresses in groups, -cakes, teas, fruit and pleasing drinks, coffee and cigars, and -wasps by the thousands. Norwegian ladies cultivate coolness, -and merely brush these away as they hand us cakes -and wine; and they would be greatly offended if a man were -to attempt to hand tea cakes. For the carpet knight there -is no show. I wish he could be exterminated at home. Do -the gods not laugh when they see our menkind in frock -coats or shooting kit handing tea and cakes to females?</p> - -<p>These pretty groups of summer-clad figures amongst -lichen-covered rocks and rowans, fir-trees, oaks and honey-suckle -were all reflected in the still water. As the sun sank -low and a mosquito or two began to sing, fairy lamps were -lit amongst the trees, and softly shone on groups of men and -women in light raiment in leafy bowers. The light from the -yellow and red lamps contrasted with the last blue of day. -There was warm air and moths, cards and smokes, and then -came music, and a perfect ballroom floor and blue eyes and -light feet—a kindly welcome to the stranger in Gamle Norge.</p> - -<p>In the dark before dawn, with lighted Japanese lanterns, -ladies and men threaded their way over the flat rocks to -motor launches and bade good-bye to the hosts. I shall not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> -soon forget the long walk home across our island, the low -mist, the warm, dark night, and wringing wet fields.</p> - -<p>There is one place in Tonsberg of which I must make a -note before I come back to our shipbuilding. It is the -Britannia. Anyone who wishes to learn all there is to know -about modern whaling must get an introduction to that cosy, -old-world club. It is a low-roofed wooden house, with low-roofed -rooms; one big room adjoins a kitchen, in which -broad, kindly Mrs Balkan, wife of my friend the engineer -on the whaler Haldane, sits behind a long counter and rules -supreme. You leave the shipyard and drop in there for <i>middag-mad</i>, -or shelter if it rains. It seemed to rain very often -in August. The “old man” Henriksen’s portrait and one -of the great Svend Foyn are, of course, in evidence, and -Svend Foyn’s whaling successors come there for <i>middag-mad</i> -or <i>aften-mad</i>, and some of them drink, I dare say, a silent -skaal of gratitude to the memory of Svend Foyn, who gave -them the lead to success, to become small landholders, each -with his home, farm, and family.</p> - -<p>Burly fellows are his successors, the pick of Norse sailor -captains. One is just home from the South Shetlands. I saw -these desolate, unhabitated, snow-clad islands many years -ago, and saw there finner whales, thousands of them! and -knew they must some day be hunted, but I did not calculate -to a penny that there would be over a million pounds sterling -invested in whaling stations there to-day; in one bay alone -in Clarence Island, and that round these islands in 1911, -twenty-two whalers would bag 3500 whales. So whaling -here is an assured <i>industry</i>. In Britain the few who hear -about it call it a <i>speculation</i>.</p> - -<p>Another ruddy-faced, broad-shouldered, fair-haired captain -comes from South Georgia and tells me of my friend -there, Sorrensen, the bigger of two big brothers, both great -harpooneers—they are both quite wealthy men now. They -whaled with us from our Shetland station a few years ago, -and between hunts we talked of a whaling station we were -going to start in South Georgia; two or three years at this -station has set them up for life.</p> - -<p>Most of the men who come into the Britannia have been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -over all the world; half-a-life’s experience of any of them -would fill a book. But of them all I think I’d sooner have -my friend Henriksen’s experiences. Young as he is, he has -perhaps had more experience in whaling than any of them. -He was whaling for the Japanese when they opened fire on -the Russian fleet. At least he had been—he stopped when -the guns began to fire, and took his little whaling steamer -behind an island, and he and another Norsk whaling skipper -climbed to the top of it and viewed the fight from shelter. I -believe they were almost the only Europeans besides the -Russians who saw that spectacle. Henriksen has a red -lacquered cup—a present from the Mikado in recognition of -his services for supplying food in shape of whale to Yusako -during the war. In time of peace there they eat the whole -whale, paying several dollars a kilo for best whale blubber -and as much or little less for the meat.</p> - -<p>We in the Shetlands turn the fat oil into lubricants, etc., and -the meat into guano for the fertilisation of crops. I suppose -it comes to the same thing in the end, if “all flesh is grass.”</p> - -<p>So the talk, as can be imagined, wanders far afield in the -Britannia. I heard a skipper asked by a layman what -corners of the world he had been in, and he paused to consider -and replied: “Well, I’ve not been in the White Sea.” -From Arctic to Antarctic he’d sailed a keel in every salt sea -in the world bar the White Sea and the Caspian. The telephone -interrupts many a yarn; perhaps Jarman Jensen, our -ship’s chandler, calls up someone about provisioning a -station, say for three years—food, etc., for one hundred men -for that time or longer; or perhaps there is a less important -order from Frau Pedersen ringing up her husband from their -little farm, telling him to call at the grocer on his way home, -and he perhaps tells her he thinks he may not get out in time -for dinner, and “Oh, buy a house in town, Olaus” is possibly -the jesting answer—a great saying here in Tonsberg, where -men sometimes are said by their wives to dawdle away the -afternoon in the Britannia, when they are really deep in -whaling finance, planning whaling stations for islands known, -or almost unknown down south on the edge of the Antarctic, -or on the coast of Africa or the Antipodes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span></p> - -<p>Here is the 12th of August, day of Saint Grouse, and we -should be treading the heather at home, but we are still -on the island of Nottero, with rain every day; and every -morning the same slow drive behind Swartzen into Tonsberg, -longing all the time for our ship to be ready for sea. We -hoped to have had it ready in June!</p> - -<p>We have, however, made almost our last payment, and have -her insured. What a lot it all costs!</p> - -<p>We tried to console ourselves to-day with the interest of our -first trial run of our engine as against loss of pleasant company -and grouse at home, also we have the pleasure of seeing the -last of our whale lines being made and we get our chronometer -on board, stop watch, etc., and spend hours in Jarman Jensen’s -little back shop with three skippers giving us advice, as we -draw up lists of provisions for the St Ebba for a twelvemonth.</p> - -<p>In the rope factory run by Count Isaacksen we watched -the last of our great whale lines being spun; three five-inch -lines we have to port and three to starboard, one hundred -and twenty fathoms each—that is, we can let a whale run -out three times one hundred and twenty fathoms on our port -lines, three hundred and sixty or two thousand one hundred -and sixty feet. I have seen that length run straight out in -a few seconds at the rate of sixty miles per hour, with -engine going eight knots astern and brakes on, and then -it snapped; for some big blue whales five of these lines -are attached to give greater weight and elasticity, because, -you see, there is no rod used in whale-fishing.</p> - -<p>The rope factory and Jarman Jensen’s store are two -wonders of Tonsberg. The store is a small front shop, generally -pretty full of townspeople making domestic purchases, -butter, potatoes, coffee. Jensen, with perfect calm and -without haste, weighs out a pound of butter, wraps it in -paper and hands it with a bow to some customer, gives a -direction to one or two heated assistants, and comes back to -us in the den behind the shop and continues to tot up the -provisioning for our ship for a year, or the stores for some -far bigger whaling concern running to thousands of pounds.</p> - -<p>So much business done in so small a space and with such -complete absence of fuss! Jensen in his leisure hours is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> -antiquarian and poet. He possesses a valuable library in -Norse antiquities and will write a Saga while you wait. He -must have burned a good deal of midnight oil over the -splendid saga he wrote about our St Ebba which was rich -with historical reference to the amenities between Scots and -the Norwegians in ancient days.</p> - -<p>The slowest part of the outfitting for our whaler was, for -me, the customary expressions of hospitality. I hope my -Norwegian friends will understand and forgive my criticism. -It is the result of my being merely British, with only a limited -knowledge of Norse and a comparatively feeble appetite. A -quiet little dinner given to us as a visitor and representative -of our Whaling Company would begin at three <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> and wind -up at ten—eating most of the time—plus aquavit and the -drink of my native land, which seems to be almost as popular -in Norway as it is in England.</p> - -<p>Think of it—five or six hours’ smiling at a stretch, pretending -to understand something of the funny stories in -Norsk and joining in the hearty laughter! I could have -wept with weariness. They are to be envied, these Norse, -with their jolly heartiness, the way they can shake their sides -with laughter over a funny story. The world is still young -for them. I remember that our fathers laughed and told -long stories like these people.</p> - -<p>One chestnut I added as new to their repertoire. I believe -it has spread north as far as Trömso, about the man with a -new motor who, when asked about its horse-power, drawled -in reply it was said to be twenty horse-power, but he thought -eighteen of the beggars were dead! And as to speed, it had -three—slow—damned slow—and stop! It seemed to translate -all right—<i>saghte</i>—<i>for-dumna-saghte</i>, and, <i>Stop!</i> fetched -the audience every time. At least it did so when Henriksen -told the story, but he is a born raconteur, and infuses the -yarn with so much of his own humour and jollity that everyone, -especially the womenfolk, who are very attentive to him, -laugh till they weep.</p> - -<p>A perfect wonder to me is the way in which women here can -prepare meals and entertain a lot of people single-handed, or -with, say, the help of one maid, at a couple of hours’ notice;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -have a spise-brod ready—a table covered with hors-d’œuvres -at which you can ruin the best appetite with all sorts of -tasty sandwiches, aquavit, liqueurs and beer till the Real -dinner is ready, say, of four substantial courses and many -wines, custards and sweets. Between times she will possibly -see her own children off to bed, probably alongside some of -the visitors’ children; then she will sing and play accompaniments -on the piano, and join heartily in the general talk, -and later will serve a parting meal and a deoch-an-doris, -and walk a Scotch escort of a mile or two with the parting -guest as the morning sun begins to show.</p> - -<p>They seem very jolly though they are so busy. Everyone -on this island knows everyone else: they were all at -school together, as were their parents before them. Most -of the married people have a little farm. The wife looks -after this when the husband is at sea-whaling. The women -have the vote too! They voted solid a year or two ago -for a neatly dressed, plausible young orator who came -round the island, and when their husbands came home -after the whaling season was over, found he was a Socialist; -and if anyone’s interests are damaged by the Socialist in -Norway, it is the whaler’s. So the vote for some time was -not a favourite subject of conversation here when ladies -were present. I think the wealthiest family in Tonsberg, a -millionaire’s household, runs to two maidservants.</p> - -<p>But this is dangerous ground; let us upstick and board -the St Ebba. “Once on board the lugger” we cast off wire -hawsers, let on the compressed air with a clash in the -cylinders, then petrol, then crude oil, back her, stop her, -then motor ahead easily.</p> - -<p>The St Ebba’s first journey! We passed down between -Nottero and the mainland, rapidly passing the small motor -craft that seemed to be timing us, travelling at nine and -three quarter knots. She seems to go as quickly as our steam-whaler -the Haldane—less “send” in calm water. The -Haldane and her like pitch a little, St Ebba makes no turn -up behind to speak of at half speed, which is fast enough -for actual whaling. She seems particularly quick in turning, -and in a very small circle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span></p> - -<p>We had charts out all the morning planning our southern -route, possibly to the Crozets, possibly the Seychelles or the -Antipodes. We have information about whaling in these -waters; I wrote our directors about the possibility of running -a shore station with St Ebba, and painted the St Ebba flag.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> -<img src="images/drawing3.jpg" width="425" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Then we went by our launch, a Berlinda motor-boat fitted -with bollard or timber-head at the bow for small harpoon gun -for killing sperm or Australis. We found St Ebba’s engineer -very busy, and worried. The cooling water inflow was -stopped by something from outside. The British engineer -was also very busy with our Cochran steam boiler for our -winch. This winch seems very satisfactory—a sixty-horse-power -salmon reel, with ratchet and noise in proportion.</p> - -<p>We continued working at the engines till seven <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, then -motored in the St Ebba launch down the side of the island, -and got home in the dark at ten-thirty.</p> - -<p>I must cut down these day-to-day notes. “Launching a -whaler” sounds interesting enough till you come to read<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> -about details. Little troubles and big troubles and worries -arose to delay the getting afloat, signing on men took time, -signing off an engineer who got drunk, and getting another -in his place caused another delay; and delays occurred -getting our papers audited. They had all to be sent back -to Christiania to get a “t” crossed or an “i” dotted. Rain -came and helped to delay getting our lines on board. Then -we had to have an official trip, with representatives of Government, -etc., etc., on board, a curious crowd all connected with -the sea, most of them captains, a Viking crew on a British -ship, still with the Norwegian flag astern!</p> - -<p>At the next trip, however, given by us, when we had -accepted deliverance, we unfolded the Union Jack and had -what I’ve heard called a cold collation on our main hatch. -There were the captain’s and friends’ relatives, photographers, -reporters and skippers all intensely interested in our new -type of whaler.</p> - -<p>On <a href="#Page_36">page 36</a> are depicted figures looking into the engine-room, -because there was no room inside! There our engineer -is discoursing to whaling and mercantile skippers, showing -how he can be called from his bunk and have the engine -going full speed ahead in less than four minutes; and all the -wonders of a modern Diesel motor.</p> - -<p>And one by one the carpers climb down, each in his own -way—for you see almost all the “men-who-knew” said -something or other would happen or wouldn’t work. But -once they saw our engine work and the arrangement of -harpoons, guns, lines, and oil tanks, all of them prophesied -success.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>At last! on the 23rd of August, the St Ebba was ready -to be taken away from the slip, and the town, and the -noise of the builders’ yard, and one morning, with -rain blotting out the grey stone hills and threshing the trees, -and the country a swamp, Henriksen, Mrs Henriksen and the -writer went into town for the last time about St Ebba’s -affairs, motoring in our whale-launch nine knots through the -spray. It shows how hard some people are to please, for Mrs -Henriksen vowed she preferred her recollection of the motion -of a Rolls Royce in Berwickshire on a dead smooth road. -Fancy comparing metal springs and the hard high road to -the silky rush over spuming surge down the fir-clad fiord, the -wind right aft, and each wave racing to catch us.</p> - -<p>So we took St Ebba from town and the grime of the quayside -and cleaned her decks and laid her alongside a wooden -pier a few miles from Tonsberg, brought a flexible pipe on -board and filled her tanks with sixty tons of solar oil from an -oil refinery, enough to take her at one ton a day to Australia -without a call! That went on board in eight and a half -hours, one man on watch with his hands in his pockets. -How different from the work and dirt of coaling!</p> - -<p>Then clang goes the bell for stand by—let go, fore, and aft—half-speed -astern and we back away from the pier, with -Henriksen on the bridge, our crew young and nimble as -kittens and our young mate or styrmand forward alert -and the picture of smartness. He is twenty-one, is -Henriksen’s brother, and has held master’s certificate for -three years.</p> - -<p>Round we come with the wind out of shelter into rougher -sea—half-speed ahead—full speed—and away we go, our first -trip with no one but ourselves aboard, no pilot or town ties—ready -for a year at sea.</p> - -<p>But we have arrangements to make on board yet, arranging<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> -lines, and guns, and testing them, and a lot of small work with -wood which we will do ourselves down the fiord opposite -Henriksen’s home, a sheltered nook with fir-trees round, -five miles from Tonsberg. Knarberg they call this little bay -or arm at Kjolo, in Nottero, where long ago Viking ships were -built, where Henriksen’s father sailed from, and his father -before him in the days before steam. Now we revive -the past glories with a split-new up-to-date six-cylinder -Diesel motor-whaler!</p> - -<p>We slide down the fiord before the wind and rain and -squalls, smiling with pleasure at our freedom from the wharf-side. -With a foremast tackle the port anchor is heaved up -and hung over the side—the chain stopped by a patent catch; -it is the first time we have gone through the manœuvre in the -St Ebba, so even anchoring is full of interest. And in a few -minutes more we swing to windward in the narrow Knarberg -and drop port anchor and swing to starboard and drop -starboard anchor, drop astern and lie where all the winds -can blow and never move us.</p> - -<p>One anchor might have been enough. But, as Henriksen -said to his young brother: “Styrmand, you remember, father -always put down two anchors, we will do the same.”</p> - -<p>Then we open out the foresail and spread it over the boom -above the main hatch, and our little crew gets to work, -sheltered from the rain, shifting and arranging our goods -and chattels below, laying timber balks over the tanks under -our main hold so as to form a flooring to support the weight -of casks and spare gear, furnace, anvils, lance shafts, etc., -that must lie on top.</p> - -<p>A glow comes up from the red-painted ironwork on to the -faces of the crew that is almost like the effect of sunlight.</p> - -<p>Our whaling lines we have to stow away carefully; it -takes eight men with a tackle to lift one hank of line on deck, -one hundred and twenty fathoms of five-inch rope. And -there are stacks of fascinating harpoons, large and small, -to be arranged.</p> - -<p>We have adjusted the compass to-day by bearings, a -long process requiring a specialist down from Tonsberg. -The operation gave us a good chance to test our engines—so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> -much backing and going ahead and turning in small circles, -just the manœuvres we will require in pursuit of whales.</p> - -<p>More homely work consisted in getting potatoes on board -from Larsen’s farm—a retired American naval man—whose -farm adjoins Henriksen’s. He has cut the spruce shafts in -our wood for lances, light and pliable, carefully chosen for -the quality of each stem, and so as to leave room for growth -of the younger trees. And we have cut down a venerable -oak, for we need a stout hole for our anvil, and other smaller -pieces for toggles for whale-flensing. Anvil and forge are -of goodly size, for we shall have heavy ironwork making -straight the big harpoons (three-and-a-half-inch diameter) -after they have been tied into knots by some strong rorqual. -A turning lathe we must have, and an infinity of blocks, -bolts, chains, and shackles. Veritably our little one-hundred-and-ten-foot -motor, sailing, tank, whaling, sealing, cookery -ship is <i>multum in parvo</i>, and <i>parva sed apta</i>.</p> - -<p>We have got our ammunition on board. We brought it -from Tonsberg yesterday ourselves, on our Bolinder launch, -so saved freight and fright! for the local boat-owners were a -little shy. Henriksen packed the powder in tins on the floor -of our launch in the stern sheets, rifles and cartridges on top, -and he himself with his pipe going sat on top of all. I think -he smoked his pipe to ease my mind, to make me feel quite -sure that <i>he thought</i> it was quite safe, now the ammunition -is being stowed away under my bunk! Two thousand express -rifle cartridges with solid bullets we have, for we will -call on the sea-elephants at a seldom-visited island we know -of just north of the Antarctic ice. One load we should surely -get in a few weeks’ time: their blubber is about eight inches -thick, and is worth £28 per ton; a load of one hundred and -sixty tons (I think we could carry as much as that at a -pinch) at £28 per ton will equal £4480, not a bad nest egg, -and why not two or three loads in the season, not to -speak of the excitement of landing through surf and the -struggle through tussock grass. Man versus beast, with the -chances in favour of man, but not always; men I know -have been drowned, and others nearly drowned, in the -kelp and surf that surrounds these islands in the far<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> -South Atlantic. Once I had to swim in it, and do not wish -to do so again, and it’s one bite from a sea-elephant or -sea-leopard and good-bye to your arm or leg.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;" id="illus4"> -<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="500" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Stern View of the “St. Ebba” at Tonsberg</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus5"> -<img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The “St. Ebba” in the Fiord of the Vikings</span></p> -</div> - -<p>We now have salted ox on board, oxen grown at Kjolo -and salted down last winter by Henriksen; and Larsen, the -neighbour, brought us vegetables. He is almost a giant, and -as he stood in our flat-bottomed dory with two men rowing -he made a picture to be remembered, for he was surrounded -by lance shafts, sacks of potatoes, red carrots and white -onions, so that the dory was down to the water’s edge! I -prayed she might not upset. Larsen himself stood amidships -with three enormous green balloons in his arms—such giant -cabbages I have never seen before—each seven-and-a-half -kilos (fifteen pounds), in weight, the result of whale guano.</p> - -<p>The children of the neighbourhood played on our decks; -Henriksen’s two boys and daughter soon knew every corner -of the ship, just as he learned every part of his father’s vessel -when he lay at Kjolo, only in those days there were higher -masts to climb, and yards to lie out on, and tops to pause in, -to admire the view and get courage to go higher. Our crow’s -nest on our pole-foremast is the highest they can attain to -on the St Ebba. The aftermast—or mainmast, I suppose I -should call it, as we are schooner rigged—is of hollow iron cut -short above the top (this is technical, not a bull); this forms -the exhaust from the engine. You see only a little vapour, -still, it does seem a trifle odd even to see faint smoke -coming out of a mast! We will rig up topmasts in the -South Seas, and have topsails in fine winds and the Trades, -when we do not need the motor, and will then look quite -conventional.</p> - -<p>Here is a photograph of some of the children that play on -our decks and round about the St Ebba in boats. They are -of the sea. “It is in the blood,” as Mrs Henriksen replied to -me when I asked her how she got accustomed to her husband’s -long voyages and absence from home. It is their tradition -to go to sea, and Elinor, Henriksen’s daughter, will be surprised -if her brothers William and Henrik do not follow their -father to sea in a few years. In ancient days it was the same -here, womenfolk thought little of the men who had not done<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> -four or five years’ Viking cruising, gathering gear from -their own coast or from their neighbours’.</p> - -<p>We hope that this Monday, the 22nd of September, will -be our last day on shore, and it rains and rains, and we long -for the shelter of board-ship where there is no soppy ground -or puddles, and there will be the fun of going somewhere -instead of inhabiting this one spot of earth for days, till -days become weeks and weeks months for ever and for ever -without getting anywhere farther.</p> - -<p>We have now almost everything on board, books, charts, -bags of clothes, but we have still to wait for some spare -parts for the engine from the makers at Stockholm, which -they advise us to get before going on a southern voyage. -We intended to have got away in time to do a preliminary -canter, as it were, for whales up north to the edge of the ice—not -into it—for bottle-nose and finners, so as thoroughly to -test our engine and crew before going to the Southern Seas. -Now it is too late for that, so we shall only go “north-about” -round Shetland, where we may be in time for the -last of the whaling season, and then proceed south.</p> - -<p>The spare parts of the motor arrived, but it rains and blows -a fierce gale from S.W., and we could get out of our fiord but -no farther against such a gale, so we cool our heels and -Henriksen works at accounts, a serious matter. It is a new -departure, a captain acting in so many capacities, manager, -navigator, harpooneer, etc.</p> - -<p>This is my fifth week of waiting here, the most wearisome -time I have ever spent in my life. So much for whale-fishing -and its preliminaries! The time actually spent in connection -with the ship’s affairs passes pleasantly enough, and -curiously the sense of weariness goes, once on board. Perhaps -getting off clay soil on to salt water accounts for this.</p> - -<p>The sea-water in the fiord here stands abnormally high -all these days. It came running in two days ago in calm -weather. So outside the North Sea and Skagerak we -knew it must be blowing hard. To-day, though finer, the -fiord water still remains high, so we know from that and the -newspapers that there is strong southerly wind outside.</p> - -<p>For two days past a cloud has hung over us. Henriksen<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> -found a deficiency in his accounts, found that the outfit for -the St Ebba cost 10,000 kroner more than the receipts -vouched for, and went over and over accounts, till yesterday -we made another pilgrimage to Tonsberg and interviewed a -banker and said politely, “How the deuce can this be?” And -he cast his eye over his account-book and found his clerk had -merely omitted a figure in addition; a trifle of 10,000 kroner -= £550! So we came away smiling, but it gave us a bit of a -shake, rather an aggravating and superfluous piece of worry -added to vexatious delays and bad weather.</p> - -<p>We motored back in the launch much relieved, and on -reaching the St Ebba practised big harpoon-gun drill. -Henriksen and I are the only men on board who are familiar -with its workings, but one or two of the crew have used the -smaller bottle-nose or Right whale guns. It was interesting -watching Henriksen’s demonstration to all hands. Smartly -they picked up the drill; quickly, for all of them have served -in the naval reserve or army, and anything to do with a -tumble about or small craft they are familiar with from childhood -to old age. Yesterday you could readily fancy one of -these old Viking fights, for a boatload of ten small boys was -fighting another boatload, a free fight, legs and arms in the -air, a fearful turmoil, and two boatloads of yellow-haired -girls smilingly looked on.</p> - -<p>“Old Man Henriksen,” the oldest of the Tonsberg inhabitants, -came down the fiord from Tonsberg to-night to -wish us God-speed. He sailed down in his cutter single-handed, -shot into the wind round our port bow, jibbed and -swung alongside round our stern; seventy-eight years old -and sailing his home-built, prize-winning twenty-footer as -well as the best of his juniors. On board we had the tiniest -skaal, which finished our last bottle of whisky, the remnant -of our hospitality in the trial trip; we are drawing our beer -and whisky teeth, as the sailors say, before taking the high -seas.</p> - -<p>Then he went off in the twilight, as the lights began to -show in the gloom of the pines on shore, alone, sailing single-handed, -against the wishes of the family, who say he is old -enough and rich enough to employ a crew. He will spend<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> -the night alone on Faarman Holme, at the club he started -there; in the morning he will dip his flag to us as we -pass.</p> - -<p>We all go for our last night on shore, walking home in the -dark. Not all—I forgot. William and Henrik are curled -up in their father’s bunk in great glee at being left to look -after St Ebba, along with the crew for its last night in the -fiord of the Vikings.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing4.jpg" width="400" height="700" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Then it’s hey! and it’s ho! for Scotland, chilly -Lerwick and the Shetlands and kindly English-speaking -people. My heart warms at the prospect -of seeing our western hills and heather and relatives -and a language we know.</p> - -<p>It rains again, tropical rain. We stand and bid farewell -in the homestead, round the little dining-room table, each -with a liqueur glass in hand. Suddenly I see eyes are wet, -and the stranger nearly pipes an eye too, for it is a bit -harrowing even to cold hearts to see married people with -children still lovers. My host has been, for him, at home -so long, nearly eleven months now! So the parting from -wife, children, homestead, farm, woods, horse and hound, all -of which he loves, must be sore for however hardened a -seafarer.</p> - -<p>Our last cargo from home goes to the ship on a hand-cart -towed by the children and Rex the collie in great glee—curious -luggage—Japanese wicker-work baskets and parcels of -foreign-looking clothes for their father. The writer goes ahead -with them, leaving the lovers to follow their lone, past the little -home they built after Henriksen’s first success at whaling, -on a three months’ spell from sea, down the road and past -the school in the birches where they played as children -together, down to the <i>brig</i> or rocks where their fathers before -them careened their ships and made the same sad partings.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the captain is the only sad man to-day. From -first mate downwards eyes are sparkling, in spite of the dull -day of rain, at the prospect of the rough, bracing, salt seas -in front of us. We think nothing just now of cold, wet, dark, -dangerous nights; the future is all couleur de rose, whale-hunting, -new lands and people, sea-elephants, movement and -life for us, death to them and profit for us all!</p> - -<p>Was it lucky or unlucky that our anchors held to Norway<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -and the sea-maids’ hair or grass, like grim death? A sailor -would be interested, perhaps, in a description of how the two -chains were fouled or twisted, how one shackle opened and -the starboard chain went slap into the water. I thought, we -are in for more delay, trying to pick it up. But Henriksen -spotted that it had caught on the port chain, and his young -brother, our mate, promptly slid down it—a nice muddy -slide down and to his waist in water—got a rope through its -links and stopped it on the port chain, and so we got both -back. All the sea fairies of Norwegian seas could not have -given us more trouble in taking our British ship from the -Norse anchorage.</p> - -<p>As we motored from sheltered Knarsberg to Christiania -fiord we passed Faarman Holme and the yacht club and -dipped our Union Jack, and saw the Norse flag dipped in -return, no doubt by old Henriksen, who had stopped the -night there to flag us adieu in the morning.</p> - -<p>There was more heart-string-breaking before we left. Mrs -Henriksen and the children, and Hansen the steward’s -newly married wife, came part of the way, and we dropped -them a few miles down the fiord in a motor-launch we had in -tow. There are tender hearts in Norway, tender and brave.</p> - -<p>And now we are out of the great Christiania fiord or firth, -passing Færder Light that marks its entrance, Norway faint -on our right and Sweden over the horizon to our left, the sun -shining for the first day this summer. The sea has a silky -swell. We have shaken off all things earthy except a little -mud on our anchors now being stowed away, and three or -four green oak leaves and moss on the hole of the oak-tree -brought for the anvil.</p> - -<p>Henriksen and I stand for a little on the bow and rejoice -in the heave and send, and compare the movement of St -Ebba with that of the Haldane and other whalers we know, -and we think that she makes good. There is sun, sea, cloud-land, -rippling swell and fresh, cold air, with a luxurious roll; -and we feel an hour of such a day at sea is reward for all -the months of worry and waiting and planning on shore.</p> - -<p>A pleasure in store for us will be setting our new sails. -But even now, with the motor alone and fully loaded—with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> -sixty tons of fresh water alone—we make nine and a half -knots! but with our canvas unloosed and a light breeze -behind us might even reel off eleven to twelve.</p> - -<p>Not many miles out at sea a Killer (or Orca gladiator) -appeared coming from starboard. Our guns were all covered -with canvas so we did not clear for action, and the Killer is -not of much value. He came towards us and passed forty -yards astern, a fact which greatly comforted us, for “those -who know” on shore informed us a motor would drive away -whales, but how they knew it is hard to say. Then it was -said so often, and with such a sense of conviction, that without -acknowledging it, we had a slight sense of chill. This -Cetacean, a whale of, say, thirty feet, took not the least -notice of our crew, and as our fortunes depend on being able -to approach the leviathans of the ocean, without frightening -them, the incident, though apparently small, gave us -considerable encouragement.</p> - -<p>Our first day at sea has passed very busily and we go -below for a spell to our blankets, early, and tired, but with -a joy beyond words at turning in again to a cosy bunk -with everything at hand—pipe, books, paints, even music -(practice pipe chanter), all within arm’s-reach, an open port -and chilly, clean air, and the faintest suggestion of movement; -such luxuries you may not have on shore.</p> - -<p>The sea did not hide its teeth for long. After sundown -skirts of rain appeared from threatening clouds on the -distant Norse coast. Gradually they spread across our -track, bands of little ripples, like mackerel playing, appeared -on the smooth swell, and these spread and joined till all the -sea was dark with a breeze, which in a few hours grew to a -strong wind against us.</p> - -<p>As we passed Ryvingen Light on the south of Norway the -night grew dismal and rough; we watched its revolving -four-flash light, which seemed to be answered by the three -flashes we saw lit up the sky from the light on Hentsholme -in Denmark, over forty miles to our south, and the gloomy -sky over the Skagerak was lit with occasional angry flashes -of lightning.</p> - -<p>Unpromising weather for our first night at sea!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span></p> - -<p>By two in the night we were digging into the same hole, -making little or no way, with more than half-a-gale from -sou’-west.</p> - -<p>In the morning we were a very sad lot of whaler sailors. -Fore and aft all were sick, or at least very sorry for themselves. -All but Henriksen and the mate and the writer and -one man were really ill, and we, I believe, only pretended to -be well—such is the effect of the motion of a small whaler -vessel on even old sailors on their first experience of them. -I have known Norsemen who have been at sea all their -lives on large craft refuse to go on a modern whaler at any -pay.</p> - -<p>We aim at getting up the Norse coast as far as Bergen, -then going west towards north of Shetlands and, given fine -weather, we ought to pick up a whale or two before putting -in to Lerwick, where we must re-register our vessel.</p> - -<p>But the wind increases to a full gale. All the sea is white -and the sky hard, and rain and sun alternate and our nine-and-a-half-knot -speed is reduced to about four.</p> - -<p>But St Ebba is a dry ship. She proves that at least. -Any other vessel I have been in, whaler or other, would ship -more water than we do.</p> - -<p>There is no use trying to steam or motor against this -N.E. gale, so it’s up close-reefed fore and mainsail and staysail; -only four men to do it, and that for the first time of this -ship at sea, and in a gale. Reef points are made and all got -ready; then it’s “Haul away on throat and peak” and up -goes the scrap of sail, and what clouds of spray burst over the -oilskin-clad figures as they haul away cheerily! The writer, -at the wheel on the bridge, even comes in for a bit of the -rather too refreshing salt spray.</p> - -<p>Now the after or main sail is set like a board, and we are -transformed into a sailing-ship.</p> - -<p>A ring on the bell and the engine and sick engineer get -respite; a point or two off the wind and there is the silence -of a sailing-ship—no engine vibrations. True, we make -little or no progress and some leeway, but the motion is -heavenly compared to the plugging away of an engine into -a head sea.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus6"> -<img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="700" height="400" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Dead Seal on the Floe Edge</span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span></p> - -<p>The decks get dry though the sea is very rough, another -proof of the St Ebba quality. We wish, however, we were -further on our road to “our ain countrie.”</p> - -<p>The mess-room of St Ebba is not extensive, a little iron -house built round the foremast. One third of it is the -steward’s or cook’s galley. He acts both parts. He is almost -like a fair Greek, rather thin, with golden hair and a skin as -white as his jacket; poor fellow, he is sick, but sticks to his -pans, and tries to forget the young wife he left behind him.</p> - -<p>His galley is about three feet by six feet beam, and his -stove and pans and coal-box just leave him room to stand in. -Our mess-room is what I consider a very cosy room for a -whaler; it is fully five feet by six feet beam of iron, grained -yellow oak—iron ties and bolts grained like oak. It may -not be æsthetic, still in some ways it is the best part of the -ship. It seems to be the pivot of our movements. There -is a round port-hole or bolley to port, and two looking aft -towards our stern and a little round-topped iron door on -the starboard. Through the two ports astern comes the -sunlight and the iron door keeps out sea and wind, so in this -stormy weather our mess-room has its points. There is -another round-topped door from it to the galley. So -Hansen (cook and steward) has merely to stretch his arm -round to us to hand the coffee-pot, or sardines.</p> - -<p>Sardines and brown bread are on the table this morning. -I notice about two sardines have been eaten by our after-guard, -so even if we claim not to be sea-sick we cannot claim -any great appetite. Poor cook—he has upset a pail and -dishes in the galley. I help him with his stores a bit, but it -is no use—he is a bit on edge, so the bridge is the place to -sit on and sketch, for one must do something to keep the mind -occupied in rough weather. And it is precious cold and -comfortless. You have to twist a limb round something to -prevent being flung about, steering requires gymnastics.</p> - -<p>There is a pale wintry sun, but the air is cold and clammy—all -right on shore, I should say, for a September day.</p> - -<p>Two masts and a funnel go driving across our track, almost -hull down before the gale, a wreath of black smoke dispersing -to leeward in wind and spray. I almost regret I am not on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> -board, with steam and the wind aft. I’d be in Leith before -many hours, then with Old Crow and the dogs on dry stubble. -Just the day this for shore, and partridges, or to look for -hares on St Abb’s Head.</p> - -<p>One or two of the crew are reviving this afternoon, though -it is still very rough, but the first engineer, a Swede, is still -very sick.</p> - -<p>One of the crew this morning told me as he steered: -“Dem mens forward all seek, but me no seek, so I have six -eggs to mineself”; but he looked pale, and in a minute or two -he gave the wheel to me and went to the side of the bridge and -came back wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and -took the spokes again, muttering: “Fordumna, now I’se -loss dem.” Such details of life at sea you find in the -Argonautica; they give colour and conviction; only the -Argonauts in their days were laid out on the beach with too -much purple wine.</p> - -<p>Yesterday morning about four we tried the engine, but the -Swede could not start it. Either he had let the compressed-air -supply run out or water had collected and blew into first -cylinder or—or—anyway, sick or well, all hands had to pump -on till late last night, and only raised pressure to over sixty -pounds and it requires to come up to one hundred and fifty.</p> - -<p>Henriksen has been saying the wind is going to moderate -by such and such a time; when I see a sky such as this round -the horizon, with haze and cold, I give several days of -gale.</p> - -<p>It is very wearisome; Henriksen is pretty quiet. At -breakfast we have each half-a-cup of coffee! We are simply -drifting across this shallow and somewhat dangerous sea, -sometimes called the German Ocean, a crablike course to -Yorkshire coast, or will it be St Abb’s Head we are to knock -against if the wind does not change or the engine go?</p> - -<p>It would be an interesting point to get wrecked at, for I’ve -a bet on that the lifeboat a lady started there won’t save ten -lives in the next ten years. It is only allowed out if the -wind is off shore and if the cox first gets her leave. It -costs £700 yearly to keep it up, for motor-slip, man’s -house and storehouses. Seven hundred pounds per year<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> -for a lady’s whim seems an extravagant way of running the -Lifeboat Fund.</p> - -<p>With a few hours’ lull the engineers would get well, and -possibly get the engine air-starting apparatus to work; -meantime it is a bit trying having the elements against -us, plus engine difficulty, as no engine, no success to our -whaling. Thank heaven we have sails; but we must be -absolutely sure of our powers of starting the motor, and that -at short notice, or St Ebba dare not venture into certain -anchorages we hope to visit, such as the east of Crozets -and other islands.</p> - -<p>Wind always N. by W.; we are drifting close hauled S.W.</p> - -<p>There was watery sunlight this forenoon, now in the afternoon -the wind is even stronger, and it is dull with spits of -rain, and spindrift; everything is quivering, and throbbing, -with the strain, and we shall have to take in staysail. I think -of my first whaling voyage many years ago, when for twenty -days we lay hove to, out west of Ireland about Rockall. -Days of gale are totting up for this trip now! And yet our -waist is full of water only now and then! On that old -Balæna, barque-rigged, and twice as big as this little St -Ebba, it was knee-deep on an average, and waist-high at -times. This boat is marvellously dry; of course we planned -her from a very seaworthy type of boat, the Norsk pilot-boat -shape such as those we saw come into Balta Sound last -year; after they had been three months north of Shetland, -they had never taken a drop of sea-water on board, and we -think we have improved on them.</p> - -<p>As afternoon wore on the wind grew very heavy indeed, -and the sea was very high. It was Henriksen’s worst experience -of the North Atlantic. We watched on the bridge all -afternoon, and took in the reefed foresail, so we have only -the close-reefed mainsail, and we watched it anxiously lest -it should burst. But it is of new strongest sailcloth, Greenock -make, and it held.</p> - -<p>The watch taking in foresail was a pleasant sight to see. -The young fellows, all deep-sea sailors, sprang at the boom -like kittens and struggled with the billowing hard wet canvas, -tooth and nail, till it was brailed up. I was too cold and wet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> -to get my camera, but what a scene, say, for a cinematograph—figures -on deck swaying at the halyards and figures clinging -pick-a-back to the sail on the boom!</p> - -<p>Oh, it was a beast of a day! even though the wave effects -were fine; of about five or six I thought each would be our -last. But we lay so far over with gunwales under so that we -simply shot to leeward with a heavy sea, so there was much -“keel water” which, rising from under us to windward, -seemed to prevent the waves breaking over our beam.</p> - -<p>The crew are all taking turns at air-pumping; they kept -at it all day yesterday, and till one o’clock to-day, and we -are soon going to see if the pressure will start the engine—it -is rather critical.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>We drifted about ninety miles S.W. in the three -days’ storm, S.W. of Norway, and now -are just the same distance from Lerwick as -when we started.</p> - -<p>Nine watches with the engine going will take us there.</p> - -<p>It is blue and sunny to-day, wind N.E., so we have set -staysail and mainsail and go along in a real sailing-ship style.</p> - -<p>But the old sea still runs high from N.W. and the wind -blows little ripples down the long furrows, and the lumpy -waves stop our way down to four or five knots.</p> - -<p>In smoother water and with all hands free we would get -a jib and topsail on; meantime we want the engine to work.</p> - -<p>At night the blasts became gradually less furious and the -seas less precipitous.</p> - -<p>At two-forty as I write, rolling along through lumpy blue -sea at four knots, the engineer lets on the air all have been -labouring at, clash goes the engine, subsiding into its steady -business-like stroke, and away we ramp; cheers from some -of us. The St Ebba vindicates itself.</p> - -<p>How our feelings are changed! “How is the air pressure?” -is a question which will be poked at the engineers for many -a fine day to come; and they will take care, sick or not sick, -never again to let it run out. We surely do twelve knots -with sails drawing and engine running. The log line will -soon show....</p> - -<p>We run all afternoon finely—sails, wind and motor—till -the wind heads us and the foresail comes down, and we roll, -roll as I think only a whaler can roll, and the expression on -faces changes. But our engineer—<i>mechanicien</i>, we call -him—is now no more sick and has the engine going, and is -washed and is as spry as usual again.</p> - -<p>Evening meal comes (<i>aften-mad</i>) with ship’s provender, -which is not bad, and what is called tea in Norway; and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> -surges come over our bow and we sit in the tiny galley, -Henriksen, styrmand, mechanicien and myself, and St -Ebba rolls dishes, pots and pans all about. But what care -we, reeling off eight to nine knots against wind with little -or no water in our waist; an ordinary tramp at three knots -against the same tumble of sea would be half under water.</p> - -<p>Night falls, the Plough lights up, and our pole mast and -crow’s nest and steamer light go swinging against it.</p> - -<p>We ought to sight Fair Isle and Sumburgh Light and -Bressay Light, Lerwick, to-night about twelve. The breeze -is northerly and for these parts the air is clear and chilly and -bracing, giving the energy of the northern electrical condition -that we cannot explain but which we know does exist.</p> - -<p>We overhauled all our charts this morning in the little -cabin after marking our position—a pleasing pastime; charts -are better pictures than the most valued engravings if you -have fancy enough to see coral islands and waving palms -where are only copper-plate engraved lines. Our Arctic -charts we roll away in the very centre of our other charts, -for alas, we are now months too late for Davis Straits: the -polar bears and white whales and Arctic poppies and the -bees humming in the white heather we must visit some other -time. These are the happy regions the old whalers speak -of with glistening eyes as they recall the joys, the hauls of -salmon in nets, the reindeer flesh, and the Right whale hunting. -No, no long sunny nights for us this journey. Possibly -there will be room for some such description further on in -this book, perhaps of whaling and sealing by the light of the -midnight sun in the Antarctic or the Arctic.</p> - -<p>We must make the best of this northern latitude and get -braced up a little with Shetland, which is astonishingly -bracing, before going south again. A dip into its cold, salt, -crystalline water as you get out of bed is a better tonic than -quinine for fever; and against the grey skies and grey houses -of Lerwick and its pale, yellow-haired and kindly people we -will picture before us the blue of the south, say the hot side -of Madeira with the brown, bare-legged grape-pickers, the -sugar cane and the deep blue sea or the hot volcanic dust and -fruit at the Azores, the Canaries and Cape Verde, and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> -hunting and waiting for the cachalot or sperm, small game -for our big harpoon, but worth much money.</p> - -<p>Perhaps we may have a chance down there of Tunny -Bonita Sharks and flying fish to put in our bag, and possibly -even a turtle.</p> - -<p>Fair Isle flashes N.W. at eight-twelve <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, then Sumburgh -Head.</p> - -<p>We have been doing eight knots with the wind against us, -consuming two tons of oil, from Tonsberg to Shetland, which -would have taken sixteen tons of coal.</p> - -<p>Then Bressay Light red and white, the night hazy, wind -going to S.W. As we come into lee of the island we slow -down to three miles an hour, for Lerwick and its light on -Bressay Island are only a few miles off and—well, it is just -as good fun going into harbour by daylight—so we go slow -and the St Ebba’s engines start a new chant. This music of -our engine we hear sometimes, and do not quite understand. -And now Henriksen hears the music; we lean over the bridge -in heavy coats in “the black dark and feen rain,” as he calls -it, and he hears the singing. Yes, at “Slow” we have the -full chorus of voices coming up from the engine-room into -the silent night, the general theme a chant, of young voices -repeating musically the creed, these change to sopranos, and -interludes of deeper women’s voices speaking low-toned instructions—then -all united! It is just as if we stood at the -entrance of some Gothic cathedral at night.</p> - -<p>But I leave the fascination of deck and “feen rain and -black dark” plus cathedral music to Henriksen and light the -midnight oil, and Henriksen hangs on to Mousa green light -and dodges fishermen’s nets and boats, and in the grey -morning tells me it blew up from sou’-west and got very cold.</p> - -<p>I was not the least aware of above, as we slipped into -Lerwick at five, but yesterday’s rapid rise of glass promised -as much.</p> - -<p>Lerwick at five <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> in the morning in summer is the same as -at any other hour in the twenty-four; it is always light and -grey. Green fields and low peaty hills lie behind grey stone -houses, and the grey clouds hang low on the hills. The sea-water -is grey-green. You might call the houses a sort of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> -lilac-grey, to be flattering. One or two of them painted -white and a black steamer or two on their sea-front give relief -to the greyness, and the white steam from their banked fires -gives a slight sense of life and joins the grey below to the -grey above. Always Lerwick seems instinct with this sense -of coming life; here it always seems to be on the point of -dawn or beginning of twilight.</p> - -<p>Not all the herring-boats, herring men and herring women -that congregate here in summer, not even the most brilliant -blue summer day, can do away with this twilight; people -and boats come and go but Lerwick preserves the same -pleasing grey expression of quiet reserve.</p> - -<p>To let you into the secret, Lerwick and the Shetlands are -slightly anæmic! The best blood of several countries has -been flowing into the islands for ages, yet always intelligence -remains in excess of physical vigour, always the Scots and -Norse say: “Let us go and make use of these islands.” -“Look at the wealth there is there of sea-fish and sea-birds,” -says the Norseman, “give me one little island there and I -will envy no man.” But they forget their starting-points are -lands of assured summer, where trees grow (and, for Norsemen, -where wild fruit ripens), and they come, and have come, -conquering or peacefully hunting, catching sea-trout, whales -or herring, and either go away again, or stay, and become -like the islanders anæmic, and slightly socialistic, and lose -the sense of industrial enterprise, and other people come and -take the herring and whales and sea-trout from their doors.</p> - -<p>It is greatly a matter of geographical position and climatic -conditions. The one tree that grows on the islands could -tell you this if you could hear it speak to you of its struggle -for existence.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Whaling is like salmon-fishing, but the waiting -part is on an enormous scale, bigger in proportion -than even the game or the tackle, however huge -that is. Fancy waiting and fishing for nine months for -your first fish. That was my first whaling. Henriksen -in Japanese seas on his first whaling command was, I think, -a year before he saw a whale. Then he had a lot of shots -in succession and missed every time, till he discovered the -powder was at fault, and then he killed about ninety in -three months.</p> - -<p>He sometimes gives me thumb-nail jottings of his -experiences.</p> - -<p>Once he ran into port. Yusako, I believe, and the harpoon-gun -on the bows was still loaded, and the Japanese Bos’n -fiddled with it and let it off. Two white chickens were resting -on the forego (coils of rope under muzzle of gun), and Jap -shoemakers, tailors with their goods and chattels, were on -foredeck, sitting on the line, and they were all upset by -its tautening suddenly. The boom brought Henriksen on -deck, he found his bos’n standing pale as china, and a few -white feathers floating in the air—a rather Whistleresque -picture, is it not? Another time he himself upset all his -poultry. He had quite a lot of hens on board, and they rather -took to him. He had stood for hours on hours chasing -two finners that never gave him a chance of harpooning them, -and just at twilight he grew tired waiting and let drive a -long shot on chance, never noticing that the fowls had -collected round his feet and on the coiled forego. Overboard -they went, every hen and chick of them, and great was the -retrieving in the pram.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> - -<p>Another curious mistake by a gunner I have heard of.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> -He’d been chasing for a long time and fired at a whale, as -he thought, but could not see where the harpoon went for the -smoke. “Have I got the beggar?” he said, turning round -to the Jap at the wheel. “Yes, captain, veree good shot.” -The smoke cleared and a moak or gull lay with its head off, -a bight of the forego had chopped it off; the Jap on bridge -had seen no whale and thought the captain fired at the gull. -The gunner’s expletives followed, and he threw his hat overboard, -and stamped and swore accordingly.</p> - -<p>And now here we are tied up, waiting again in Lerwick -in September, and on the 1st of June we should have started -fishing between Iceland and South Greenland, at a place we -know there are certain to be the small but valuable Atlantic -Right whale, Biscayensis, or Nord-Capper, as the Norse -call it, a small edition of the Greenland Bowhead or -Mysticetus (<a href="#Page_26">see page 26</a>).</p> - -<p>We waited and waited all that August in Norway, our -grouse-shooting has gone, and now partridges are going, -and we wait still. This last wait is due to an entanglement -in red tape, a difficulty in getting our vessel registered here. -We have the British Consul’s form of registration, a temporary -affair from Norway, that has to be renewed here.</p> - -<p>Soon after dropping anchor those agreeable and necessary -officials, the Customs officers, came on board, in oilskins, -which they discarded, disclosing blue jumpers and his -Majesty’s brass buttons, all showing the effect of the climate, -and they set to work overhauling our stores most carefully. -If officials are to be maintained work must be found for them -and we must all pay; we have assisted the Norwegian and -British governments incalculably for weeks and months past. -They earn their country’s pay by overhauling poor mariners’ -tobacco and provender, only intended to be chewed and eaten -far away in the North or the Southern Seas. Their chief, I -knew at once, came from our west or north coast, by his soft -accent, which was much to my taste; how much there must -be in a voice if it makes even a seafarer almost welcome a -Customs officer!</p> - -<p>As he opened the stores and checked coffee and tobacco, we -“tore tartan” a little. I said my heart was in Argyll but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> -my people came from Perthshire, and suggested he might be -from Islay. And from Islay he came! the island of Morrisons -and whisky. But MacDiarmid was his name. “But that’s -a Perthshire name,” I said. “Yes, yes,” said he, “to be -sure, from Perthshire my people came.” “And from Glen -Lyon, possibly?” I said, “and the Seven Kings?” And -“Yes, yes,” he said, “to be sure, and it is Glen Lyon you -know? Well, well, and that is the peautiful glen—and that -wull be suxty poonds of coot tobacco, and wan hundred and -suxty poonds of black twust. And did you see the Maclean -was back to Duart Castle? Aich, aich! it was a ferry fine -proceeding! You see, his mother’s grandmother’s daughter’s -niece she would come from Glen Islay, and so it wass they -came to their own again. Noo hoo much tae will you have -here—we must mark it a’ doon seeing you may be callin’ at -another Brutish port or in the back parts o’ Mull or maybe -in Ireland too.”</p> - -<p>His junior was Irish, with a Bow Bells accent, and the -speech of both was very pleasant to me after months of -Norse. The junior leant against the galley door as I had -morning coffee, and leisurely interviewed our very busy -cook—told him about Lerwick, asked him, “Did yew ’ave a -good viyage, stooard?” to which pale Hansen with the -golden hair answered, “Yah, yah, goot,” indifferently, but -he brightened up when told of the fish to be had in Lerwick. -“Wy, yuss, for a shillin’ you can git as much ’ere as will -feed all ’ands, woy, for a sixpence or fourpence you can git a -cod ’ere of saiy fourteen or sixteen pounds!” “Yah, yah, -but vill it be goot?” said incredulous Hansen. “Yuss, -you bet y’r loife. Ain’t no Billinsgaite fish ’ere, matey! -wot I mean is you git ’em ’ere ’alf aloive! But did ye -git any wyles?” he continued, “on yer weigh accrost?” -“Wyles?” repeated Hansen. “Wy, yuss, wyles, wyles -I say; you’re a wyler, ain’t yer?” and it dawned at last on -Hansen—“Vales! nay, nay, ikke vales—no seed none.”</p> - -<p>We went ashore with the brass-bounders rowing hard -against wind over the fizzling sea amongst hundreds of tame -herring gulls, most of them in their young brown plumage, -and amongst armies of these sea-robbers, scarts, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> -cormorants, that are here as tame as chickens and numerous -as sparrows. Why they are allowed to exist is what we trout -and salmon fishers wonder at; in Norway the Government -pays fourpence a head. I wish we were as fond of eating -them as the Norwegians are.</p> - -<p>On shore we got fairly messed up with red tape at the -Customs office. The officials were charmingly polite and -really wished to be of assistance, but duty first; and the very -young man in authority showed us, with the utmost patience, -how essential it was for the interests of everybody that we -should be able to prove that the makers of the St Ebba made -it really for us, and that the British Consul in Norway should -also believe this, and certify that the Norwegian builders had -really built it, and also that they had done so to our order, -for if they had not done so, it might belong to someone else. -Consequently if they, his Majesty’s Customs House officers -in Lerwick, were to register it as ours, and it wasn’t ours, -many things might happen, and so on and so forth. And we -went back and forward to the ship to get papers and more -papers, and each helped, but each and all were smilingly -explained to be not absolutely the documents necessary to -satisfy his Majesty’s Government that—that—we weren’t -bloody pirates. So give us School Board education and -Socialist officialdom and we see the beginning of lots of -trouble. Finally, after much pow-wow, we telegraphed the -gist of this to Norway, asking the Consul there, in polite -language, why the devil he hadn’t given us the papers needed -to prove we were we, and the St Ebba was the St Ebba, and -not another ship, and that it belonged to her owners—that is, -to a little private British Whaling Company.</p> - -<p>And poor Henriksen, who had spent days and more days -getting all these formalities arranged with the Consul in -Norway (whilst I used to wait outside under the lime-trees -flicking flies off Swartzen), seemed to be almost at breaking-point -of patience, and I wondered in my soul how ships ever -got out and away to sea free from red-tape entanglements.</p> - -<p>A pleasing interlude and soothing was the pause we sometimes -made between ship and office to watch the fish in the -clear green water along the edge of the quiet town. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> -water was clear as glass above white sand, and against the -low stone quay or sea face were driven, by cormorants, shoals -of fish, dark, velvety-green compact masses, of saith or coal-fish, -actually as thick as fish in a barrel. These ugly dusky -divers paid little heed to people on shore, but in regular order -circled round the shoals, coming to within eight yards of us, -and every now and then one would dive under the mass of -fish and fill itself as it went, and an opening through the mass -would show its horrid procedure as it straddled across white -sand under the fish, till it came up with a bounce at our feet, -shaking its bill with satisfaction and then go back to do its -turn at rounding up, whilst another of its kind took its turn -at eating the piltoch.</p> - -<p>No wonder, with this wealth of fish and fowl round the -shore, that the Norsemen rather hanker after their old -islands; they cure these saith and eat them through winter, -and very good they are, and they also eat the cormorants (I -give you my word, they are bad; I’ve eaten many kinds of -sea-fowl and the cormorant is the worst). The reader may -have heard that Norwegians claim the Shetlands, for they -say Scotland only holds them in pawn, for the dowry of -Margaret Princess of Denmark, wife of King James III., -estimated at 50,000 florins, which has not yet been paid. -So when Norway offers the equivalent, plus interest, which -now amounts to several million pounds sterling, the islands -may be returned to Norway. Possibly international law, -recognising the amalgamation of the two companies, Scotland -& Co. and England & Co., into Great Britain & Co., may -not now admit the claim.</p> - -<p>A specimen of a really stout Shetlander came on board -with the Customs House men, Magnus Andersen, a burly, -ruddy type, not so intellectual or finely drawn as the typical -Shetlander—a pilot by profession—what seamen call a real -old shell-back, with grizzled beard and ruddy cheeks—about -a hundred years old and straight as a dart, stark and strong, -with a bull’s voice and a child’s blue eyes. I said: “Why -don’t you have an oilskin on?” It was raining a little and -blowing. “I’ve been at sea all my days,” he said, smiling, -“and never wore an oilskin”; one of the old hardy school,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> -with a look of “Fear God, but neither devil, man, nor -storm.”</p> - -<p>He spoke of all the lines he’d been on—old flyers like the -Thermopylae, and others, sailing cracks that we read of, -Green & Smith companies, and the old tea traders, and then -he told me he had been at the Greenland whaling, and -mentioned a Captain Robertson, and I said: “D’ye mean -‘Café Tam’?” and he looked at me with a little surprise, -but was so pleased to hear the nickname of his old skipper. -“Why,” I said, “I was with him on board his last ship, the -Scotia, in Dundee, not a year ago, and, bar a slight limp, he’s -as good as a two-year-old.” And from that we started off -yarning for as long as there was time, which was not much. -Old “Bad-Weather” and B⸺ Davidson I asked about. -He knew them from their boyhood: old B.-W. came here to -Lerwick on his last voyage and ordered Magnus on board. -He was to go whether he did a hand’s turn of work or not. -Magnus admired B.-W., even though he had the common -failing; but now he has gone——? may peace be with him. -Magnus blamed the steward and mate for his end, on that -last voyage, blamed them for not having his temptation in -greybeards thrown overboard. My opinion is that the ice -finished him. Take a boy as a mill hand and let him struggle -through the fo’c’sle to be bos’n—second mate—first mate -and master, then keep him whaling year after year with ice -perils and whaling problems and the intense strain and -excitement of Arctic ice navigation, and he must die before -seventy! Ice navigation is a severe strain.</p> - -<p>I’ve known of a strong man, a Norwegian skipper, who -when he saw the ice for the first time, and got his vessel -well into it, was so scared that he locked himself into his -cabin and was fed through the skylight for a week!</p> - -<p>Another old whaler (I mean this time a man of thirty-five) -I met in Lerwick. I heard he wanted to see me, for he said -he had been a “shipmate” of mine; “shipmate” to one -who only plays hide-and-seek with the sea sounded rather -pleasant, so we shook hands very heartily for a few seconds, -but we had no time for a “gam,” for I had to go about our -business with these horrid Custom affairs. He seemed to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> -doing well; he had some harbour office and was neatly -dressed—his name was Tulloch. I must meet him again and -have a yarn when there is more leisure.</p> - -<p>We have additional worry here besides the registration. -We have to have our vessel remeasured to satisfy our Board -of Trade. I fear it gave the registrar some trouble to come -from Aberdeen in rough weather, and he was very sick; if -his eye ever falls on these lines, here are my thanks and sympathy. -If we had gone to him at Aberdeen he would have -put us into dry dock and kept us for weeks, but here we knew -there were no dry docks.</p> - -<p>At this point in our proceedings the writer left the St Ebba -and took the high road over the island, and left the measurement -business to Henriksen, for that is a matter that required -tact and patience rather than the English language. -I went to see my friend R. C. Haldane, who has the property -of Lochend on Colla Firth, also to see our Alexandra -whaling station there, of which this writer is a Director. I -hardly dare mention this in Lerwick for the herring-fishers -are jealous of whalers—whaling, they say, has spoiled their -herring-fishing—and yet the herring-fishing is better than it -ever was! The fact is, if the Man in the Moon made a half-penny -more than they did, at his trade, which I am told is -cutting sticks, they would eat their fingers off. Being -numerically superior to us whalers they carry the vote—and -so <i>our Government has forbidden us to kill whales within forty -miles of our Shetland shores during the best of the season, whilst -any Dane, Dago or Dutchman may kill them up to the three-mile -limit</i>!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>I have just come over the island and on board ship after -a week-end trip to the north of this main island to my -friend R. C. Haldane, of the distinguished family of -that name, associated in historians’ minds with Halfdan -the Viking leader, and to newspaper readers with a younger -brother—late War Minister and present Lord Chancellor. -I came over the island in a single-cylinder motor-car, a -splendid new departure for these parts, over the windy, wet -moorland track, four hours to do forty miles, but what -glorious speed compared with only the other day, when we -stiffened for long hours doing the same journey in a slow -dog-cart.</p> - -<p>The old whaler, Magnus Andersen, took me off to St Ebba -in the wind and dark and splashing sea in a leaky cobble.</p> - -<p>How jolly and cheery it is to be back in the cosy, lamplit -cabin. The first mate is busy at his log, trying to write in -English, and soon there is the bump of a boat alongside, and -down the companionway comes our burly youth of a captain, -and what a hearty handshake he gives, as if we had been -away for weeks, or months, instead of only a week-end: and -we compare notes. His day has been full to overflowing.</p> - -<p>He had prepared the fatted calf—tinned meat and fish balls -and beer, and whisky and soda, against the Board of Trade -inspector’s visit for measurement and registration; and -then he turned out to be a teetotaller and vegetarian! We -had telegraphed to Aberdeen for this poor man and he had -torn himself from the bosom of his family, faced two days’ -gale and arrived white as paper and rather on edge. But -he was profoundly clever, all admitted that, and he was impressed -with Henriksen’s books in the cabin, three big shelves, -all of them scientific sea-books, and directories. And he said: -“Where are the novels?” And there were none! At least -there were none visible. I have two or three about heroes<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> -and heroines of Park Lane and country mansions, into which -I sometimes dip a little just to give renewed zest for the wide -horizon and the tang of wind and sea out-by. And he -measured this and that, and, much to our joy, he practically -accepted the Norwegian Lloyd registration, and put us down -at sixty-nine tons instead of a larger figure, which we feared; -now, registered as under seventy tons we need not have pilots, -and we save in many ways on entering port.</p> - -<p>Sunday afternoon with Norwegians is a playtime and -holiday, so our master and mates and engineers had a Saturnalia -of shag or cormorant shooting and rather shocked the -natives of Lerwick who heard the shooting. Our men -rejoice more heartily at banging down these marauders than -you and I, gentle reader, would rejoice at clawing down the -highest birds in Britain, and we all eat them. To cook them, -we skin them first, then lay breast and limbs, without the -back, in vinegar and water for a night, and wash them in milk -and water next morning, then they are stewed; there is a -good deal of trouble taken with the cooking, and when done -they are extremely bad to eat!</p> - -<p>My Sunday, however, was passed in unbroken peace and -quiet at Lochend on the west of Shetland. There is a silence -at Lochend and on the silvery shingle beach, and over the -crystalline rippling green bay that is astounding; a bee -humming over the patch of yellow oats sounds quite loud, -and a collie barking in the distance beside one of the grey -thatched cottages sounds quite close. Haldane’s white, thick-walled -stone house looks out on to a silvery shingle that -makes a perfect crescent between a fresh-water lake of brown -peaty water and the sea-loch where the water is green above -the white sand, and purple above tangle.</p> - -<p>Ah! the purity of the air there, with its scent of peat! -How I have longed for it in town, and even in warm South -Norway counted on breathing it again, and at every breath -thanked heaven for its restorative energy. The morning -dive was past expectation—how the Shetland sea makes the -blood tingle and the skin glow! And the contrast from the -outside keen air, after days buffeting on the North Atlantic -or North Sea, to come into the warm stone house, to sit by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> -the glowing peats and coal, surrounded by books of travel, -illuminated missals and natural history, to read or to listen -to my host telling tales of the times of our fathers, told as -they told them, without haste and with exquisite inflection -and skill in picturing peoples and places at home or abroad.</p> - -<p>One family story he told me should be of national, or even -international interest, so I must make it a classic. It was -in the first days of trains in this country that my host and -his brother were coming back to school in Edinburgh from -Cloan in Perthshire with their father. The father was considered -a splendid traveller, for he could actually sleep in -these Early-Victorian carriages! As he lay asleep with a red -rug drawn over him—which Haldane says figures largely in -his boyish recollections—he and his brother plugged cattle and -engine-drivers and various things as they passed, or at the -stations, with their catapults, till at Larbert old Haldane -awakened and saw the instruments and asked the boys what -they were. “Never had such things when I was a boy,” -he said. They explained to him how to fit a stone into the -leather, and he did so and held the catapult out of the window -and let fly, and with inexpressible joy the boys watched the -stone go hurtling into the centre of the stationmaster’s -window. Old Haldane promptly pulled the red plaid over -his head, and out came the wrathful stationmaster, and the -guard, and a boy clerk, who took them to the Haldane -carriage. Wrathfully the stationmaster pulled open the -door, and met the gaze of the cherubic innocents. Then -angrily he pulled the red rug aside and disclosed the stem, -judicial features of Haldane senior.</p> - -<p>“How dare you, sir, disturb me in this rude manner?” he -demanded of the guard he knew so well, and “Och, sir! -Save us!—It’s you, Mr Haldane! A’ maist humbly apologise. -A’ maun hae made a mistake,” and he bustled away, angrily -elbowing the boy clerk and muttering: “Yon’s Mr Haldane, -ye fuil, ye gowk, Haldane o’ Cloan, yin o’ the biggest shareholders -o’ the Company.” “Ye may ca’ him what ye like,” -said the clerk, “but A’ saw him let flee yon stane.”</p> - -<p>As the train proceeded, Haldane <i>père</i> emerged from the -red rug again and the three laughed long and loud, and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> -juniors told their father more about catties and what they -did with them at school. And this led to talk of fights, and -they asked their father if he ever fought at school, and he -confessed to having done so and pointed to two metal teeth, -mark of an ancient fray or “bicker” between the Edinburgh -Academy boys and the boys of the Old Town on the mound. -It is at this point that this domestic tale becomes of national -interest, for the present Viscount and our Lord Chancellor -appears on the scene; he was much the junior of these two -elder brothers, and soon after this, when they had all got -back to their respective schools, “Campy” and his brother -asked Bob, the Benjamin, if he ever had a fight, and jeered at -him for being at such a school where they didn’t fight—I -forget which it was, possibly Henderson’s, and he replied that -they were taught at school that it was very wrong to fight, -and they referred to the two metal teeth of their father, -and gentle Bobby went away thinking. A few days later -he came home from school with two black eyes, and his -poor little nose pointing north by south, and Lispeth, the old -family nurse, was nearly broken-hearted. “Oh, wae’s me, -puir wee lambie, wha’s gaun an’ made sic a sicht o’ ma bonnie -wee bairn?” And he explained. He was top of his class, -and “I thought I ought to fight, so I looked at the other -boys, and there was one long one, at the bottom of the class, -and I just gave him one on the eye—and he licked me.” -And there were poultices applied to the black eyes—and his -nose you have seen—and much pity from Lispeth for her -bonnie wee laddie.</p> - -<p>So the elder brother, R. C. Haldane, after travelling the -wide world o’er, has found the most quiet, most restful spot -in Ultima Thule, and the youngest is, we trust, still fighting -for universal service, we trust, in London, England.</p> - -<p>On this Haldane senior’s property we have the land -station of our little whaling company, the Alexandra Company, -which by our Government is allowed to run two small -whaling steamers only, and incidentally to employ many -Shetlanders at 23s. a week. More steamers we may not -have. Ask herring-fishers why we may not!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Perhaps it will be as well for me to hark back here -and make some extracts from my last year’s whaling -log and sketch-books, for who knows when this St -Ebba will fall in with whales; in this way the reader will -the sooner be made acquainted with the procedure in -“Modern Whaling.”</p> - -<p>The extracts that follow have appeared in magazines—in -The Nineteenth Century, The Scottish Field, and in Chambers’s -Magazine, and Badminton, but possibly the reader may not -have seen them; and I am sure that the illustrations have -not yet been submitted to the criticism of the general -public.</p> - -<p>The first begins one evening in June a year or two ago, -when we were fishing sea-trout in the Voe at Lochend, beside -our whaling station, putting in the time till our whaler came -in from the outer sea.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On the evening of the second day of waiting a fair-haired, -rosy-cheeked boy with great grey eyes and a ragged red -waistcoat came down from the hill bare-footed and breathless, -and said: “She is there!” and went off in astonishment -at the unfamiliar silver. Then we got our bag down -to the shore and waited for the smoke above the headland -which would tell us that our little steam-whaler had been into -the Colla Firth station and had left the last captured whale -there, had taken coal on board, and was coming out again -for the high seas.</p> - -<p>Henriksen has heard of our arrival and, as she swings into -the bay in front of Haldane’s house down comes her pram, -and two Norsemen come off in it and take the writer on -board.</p> - -<p>Ah! it is good to feel again the rolling deck, on “the road -to freedom and to peace,” to the open sea and big hunting,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> -and to read in a note from the Works Manager that we -have at last to act as harpooneer.</p> - -<p>Yell Sound is calm as a mill-pond, with swiftly running -tides as we go south and east past the Outer Skerries. We -aim at a latitude N.E. of the Shetlands beyond the “forty-mile -whaling limit” made against British whalers only.</p> - -<p>Even with a glassy calm a steam-whaler has a rolling send. -She seems to make her own swell to plunge over, but it’s a -silky, quick, silent motion that, once accustomed to, you -never notice; though old seamen are prostrated with it when -they first experience it. Round about the islands we see -many seals and an endless variety of divers and other sea-birds -and some herring-hog or springers, a small finner whale -(Balænoptera Vaga), and porpoises in great numbers, so we -practise swinging and aiming our gun in the bows at them, -against the time when we have to fire at the mighty Fin -whale (A), Blue whale (B), Seihvale (C), Nord Capper (D), or -Sperm (E),<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> for even Sperm and the Nord Capper we have killed -in the last two years off the Shetlands, yet the Nord Capper or -Atlantic Right whale, Biscayensis, was supposed to be extinct! -and the sperm or cachalot is a warm-water whale and only -occasionally is found as far north as the Northern Shetlands, -or as far south as the South Shetlands south of Cape Horn.</p> - -<p>The modern whale gun or swivel cannon is on the steamer’s -bow and is swung in any direction by a pistol grip. It weighs -about two tons, but it is well balanced when it has the one-and-a-half -hundredweight harpoon in it so that a hefty man can -swing it fairly easily in any direction. The difficulty for the -landsman shooting is, of course, in his sea-legs—you must be -absolutely unconscious of them and of the vessel’s movement, -or of pitch and roll, and the wet of cold, bursting seas that -may come over you at any time in the pursuit; but, given -good sea-legs and indifference to a wetting, and there is nothing -in ordinary circumstances to prevent, say, a fairly quick -pistol shot from killing his whale, a certain amount of strength -and nerve is required for the final lancing from the pram or -small boat, but that is seldom done nowadays, for a second<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> -or third harpoon is usually resorted to, as being more effective -and less risky.</p> - -<p>At midnight we turn in with regret from the pink light -and calm sea, for Henriksen the master, and the writer, have -much to talk of about whales in other seas; but a few hours’ -sleep we must have if we are to be steady in the morning.</p> - -<p>You turn in “all standing” on a whaler, you have no time -to dress when the call comes; so much time is saved out -north-east. At three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> perhaps you tumble out, there is -enough daylight to read by all night, but between eleven -and twelve, and three o’clock, you are pretty safe to have -a nap, for you cannot then see a whale’s blast beyond a -mile or two.</p> - -<p>We are now (five <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>) going N.E.—a lovely smooth sea—nothing -more idyllic we think than at five in the morning to -be steadily pegging away over the silky swell seventy miles -north of the Shetlands into the sunrise on a warm morning, -watching the circle of horizon for a blow. One man is in -the crow’s nest on our short foremast, another at the wheel, -and you lie your length on the bridge, on the long chest used -for the side lights, which of course are never used here, with -glass in hand, watching. The gun is ready in the bow, and -the harpoon and line are all in order. There is no hurry for a -blow, you have to-day, and to-morrow, and the next day -before you to hunt in, food and fuel for a week, and the wide -sea to roam over in what direction you please, towards whichever -cloud castle you choose, and if rough weather comes, -you are confident your little ninety-five-foot whaler will ride -out anything, if she is not pressed.</p> - -<p>It is turning out a beast of a morning for whaling. Oily -calm but a lumpy swell, making us crash about, and never a -blow in sight; I have been handling gun for practice, an -excellent opportunity in this swell from the N.W. crossing -the swell from N.E., the gun muzzle yaws a bit and our feet -are apt to be insecure on the little platform in the bows, and -there is nothing to hold on to but the pistol grip of the gun. -We pursue our north-easterly course, then go at forty-five -degrees, say ten miles N., then say ten miles N.E. again, a -simple way of keeping our position on the chart. Of course<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> -whenever there is anything like “a blow,” we swing about -in that direction; rather a charming feeling after the usual -experiences of travelling at sea in one dead straight line. It -makes you feel as if the ocean really belonged to you, and -you are not merely a ticketed passenger sent off by the time-table.</p> - -<p>In the forenoon we fall in with three whalers from Olna -Firth, the station of the Salvesens of Leith, and all of his had -been scouting in different directions, over hundreds of miles, -and not one had seen a spout, and yet where we are, there -were numerous whales only a few days ago. Like trout, -whales seem to be unaccountably on the rise one day, and -utterly disappear the next. So we resort to music and painting. -Henriksen plays Grieg on the weather-worn melodeon -and the artist paints sea studies.</p> - -<p>At twelve comes a meal, usually called <i>middag-mad</i> on a -Norse whaler, Henriksen calls it tiffen. It is simple enough—a -deep soup plate of hasty pudding (flour and water boiled), -on this you spread sugar half-an-inch thick, and then half-a-packet -of cinnamon, on your left you have a mug of tinned -milk and water, on your right a spoon, and you buckle to and -eat perhaps half-way through or till you feel tired; it is -awfully good; then you eat smoked raw herrings in oil -from a large tin, black bread, margarine and coffee, such -good coffee. I’d defy anyone to be hungry afterwards or -ill-content. Dolphins pass us and we pick up a drifting rudder. -Henriksen sniffs at its workmanship and says: “Made in -Shetland,” so I quote the Norse saying: “The family is -the worst, as the fox said of the red dog.”</p> - -<p>However, I suppose we will stay out till we do find whales -or finish coal. It almost looks as if whales could stay below -and sleep. One day’s blank waiting seems a long time from -three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> to eleven or twelve <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> We growl together on -the bridge, skipper, self, man at wheel and the cook. There -is no hard-and-fast distinction of rank on a Norwegian -whaler’s bridge, and Henriksen counts up our mileage, one -hundred and sixty-nine since last night. “We might be -having cream and fruit in Bergen,” he remarks; we are -about half-way across, and we all wish we were there.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> -Henriksen says, by way of consolation: “Well, I was once six -months whaling for Japs off the Korean coast, and I never saw -a fin, and fine weather just like this”; and I tell him of our -being surrounded in the Antarctic with hundreds of whales -up to and over a hundred feet in length without sufficiently -strong tackle to catch them; don’t we both long for one of -these huge Southern fellows in this empty ocean.</p> - -<p>At evening meal, or <i>aften-mad</i>, are potatoes, tinned meat -and anchovies, bread, butter and coffee, and we feel vexed that -we do not have whale steak and onions as we expected. The -cook explains that owing to warm weather his last supply -went bad, a grievous disappointment, for whale meat is -worth travelling far to eat<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>; it is superior to the best beef, -in this way, that after eating it you always feel inclined for -more. The evening we wiled away by making an invention -to kill mackerel, of course keeping a keen watch all the time -for a blow. Mackerel shoals appeared in every direction in -patches, rippling the smooth sea for miles. Our plan, inside -the three-mile limit may sound infernal; a hundred miles out -it didn’t seem so wicked, especially as we had keen appetites -for fresh fish. We filled a quart bottle half full of gunpowder, -put a cork and foot of fuse into it, slung a piece of iron under -it, lit the fuse and dropped it into a shoal of mackerel, and -sheered off. The result ought to have been lots of stunned -fish. A little thread of smoke came quietly up through the -falling sea—and then—nothing happened!—a faulty fuse, we -supposed. We tried a dynamite cartridge and fuse later, but -the fish had gone, and of course, it went off; and gave our -little whaler a knock underneath as if with a hammer, then -we hove to, and all went asleep, and the Haldane watched -alone in the half light of the Northern night for a few hours.</p> - -<p>At three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> Sunday, we were under steam again, the day -very grey and the wind rising slightly from W. by S. “Like -to be vind,” said a young, blue-eyed Viking with long fair hair -and a two-weeks’ beard, but I doubted it; youth is apprehensive -or too sanguine—age is indifferent. Which is best?</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus7"> -<img src="images/illus7.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Mouth of a Finner Whale</span></p> -<p class="caption">Showing the hairy surface of the whalebone plates on the palate.</p> -</div> - -<p>We are heading west again, east to west and back again -and north and south, we go in any direction we fancy, but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> -never a whale, so the Sabbath is devoted to the melodeon -and painting. We have a book to read but the cloud pictures -and their reflections always take our eyes from the print.</p> - -<p>So we live on a whaler, in old clothes, seldom changed. -I think we rather affect worn, patched clothes. Our cook -or steward, a man of means, I have no doubt, in his own -country, has a faded blue jersey, the darning of which must -have pleasingly occupied many of the few hours of leisure -he has on board, and the men, too, have most artistic patches -on their clothes. They differ from their superior the skipper -in that their coats are torn and darned, and his is torn and -not darned. The writer’s is neither, but will be shortly, and -the crease in the trousers is a memory; it goes soon on a -whaler, where you waste no time changing clothes—certainly -not oftener than once a week. But, though we are roughly -clad, we have Grieg’s music, rye bread, and whale meat, -luxuries we often have to do without on shore; the black-bread -Socialists will have none of it, and the meat for which -the Japs, even for the fat, pay twenty-five cents a pound.</p> - -<p>The melodeon player’s biography would make good MS. -He is young and big, weaned from shore to sea by his skipper -father at thirteen; master’s certificate at seventeen; then -mate on a sailing ship to the Colonies; master and gunner -on a Japanese whaler; twenty pounds a month; seven -pounds for each whale and all found; large pay in Norway; -purchaser of his own island; farm, wife, three children; a -sixteen-hand fast trotter, sleighs, guns, rifles; six months on -shore; six at sea; youth and exuberant spirits and as keen -about securing a guillemot for the pot as for a four-hundred-pound -sterling Nord Capper.... The day passes and it -seems as hopeless as ever, but I find Henriksen knows some -useful fo’c’sle language for the relief of feelings; it gives a -little lurid colour to the otherwise monotonous soft pigeon-grey -landscape.</p> - -<p>For hours at a time the fascination of watching the horizon -for a blow is enough to keep one’s mind fully occupied, but -at length and at last the writer begins to count painting and -reading as of equal interest—a deplorable state of affairs. -It is almost hopeless, from a whaling point of view, so we are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> -going to give up this ocean north-east of Shetland, and go -south-westwards some seventy-five miles till we see the -Flugga Lighthouse, thence we will make a new departure -and go and have a cast in the North-West Atlantic.</p> - -<p>Ah! but I have hopes—there were big finners in families -out there last year, at about this time they came up from the -south, possibly from even south of the Line. I remember the -oldest members were very exclusive, but some of the younger -people made our acquaintance. There was one, an island!—may -I have a shot at it is my prayer, then would there be -some real interest in life for us all.</p> - -<p>So we practically put in the Sunday without work, only -watch and hope, and make a passage; but the two engineers -and two boy stokers work. One of the stokers looked as if -he did so hate work this morning—came on deck with his -black face disfigured with an expression that meant: “I -could kill anyone if I was strong enough!” He is such a -sleeper that Larsen, his master, to waken him, took down -the foghorn in the small hours and blared it into his ears. -Henriksen in the chart-house where he sleeps, jumped at the -sound, and I too, sleeping aft over the rudder, dreamt I -heard the sweet note.</p> - -<p>It is a curious little family party we are; bit by bit, -I begin to know about the individual, gentle, blue-eyed -Vikings, about their farms, and boats, at home; for farms -and even sheep have a certain interest at sea, when you -are not watching for whales.</p> - -<p>One of them, a long, young man, with pale eyes and three -or four fair hairs on his chin, has such a kind expression, and a -stutter! It is the funniest thing in the world, in the beginning -or the middle of a chase, if he is at the wheel, to listen -to him, as he tackles the speaking tube. He spits hurriedly, -then in a sing-song note, he says: “F-f-ulls-s-speed,” twists -the wheel and spits again, saying some Norse expression for -“Tut-tut” or “Oh, bother,” and then the same performance -at “S-s-saghte” (<i>i.e.</i> Slowly). Finally he gives up stuttering -words down the tube and resorts to the engine-room bell -for signalling.</p> - -<p>I have already touched on the interesting subject of meals<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> -on a whaler; I have known one begin at five <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> and finish at -eleven <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, the prolongation being the result of frequent -dashes from the minute mess-room to the gun platform in bows -or to the bridge, in the immediate prospect of getting alongside -a whale. To-day we begin our midday meal at the -sweet end—why, the Norse only know!—prunes and rice, -winding up with tinned herrings and coffee. After food we -studied Art, did bits of sea from the bridge and pretty faces -from fancy, the skipper played on the melodeon, and we -exhibited in the chart-room, and each of the unshorn Vikings -as he came to the bridge for his trick at the wheel or on one -excuse or another came in and looked long and admiringly. -Of course I had painted to the gallery—the girls had blue -eyes and fair hair, the colours of birch bark, the silvery -harmonies of nature beloved by the Norse and the artist.</p> - -<p>At three in the afternoon we got sight of the Shetlands -and Flugga to the west, and made a new departure to the -N.W. We were only three miles south of our dead reckoning; -not so bad, after several days lying hove to, and dodging -about in all directions, with neither sextant nor chronometer; -a chronometer gets knocked out of time in such a -small craft with the shock from the gun. Towards night the -Haldane’s engines slowly stopped in accordance with orders; -which orders our friend the stutterer at the wheel did not know -about, and his muttered imprecations on the lazy engineer -stopping, as he thought, for a rest, made us all on the bridge, -skipper, steward, and two of the crew, laugh till the tears -came! a little goes such a long way at sea in the way of a -jest (in fine weather).</p> - -<p>So we lash the wheel to windward and roll about just over -that scandalous limit line—forty miles N. of Shetland—inside -of which any foreigner may whale, but we may not! -We have seen nothing for twenty-four hours and the sea is -as empty as the Sahara of herring-boats; the crew have -three hours’ sleep.</p> - -<p>Monday, 4th July, three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> A most bilious morning, -enough to make a seagull ill or upset the hardiest shell-back; -the world seems just a bag of hard wind and cold water, -squalls, and scraps of rainbow, and tossing seas, with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> -eerie sough in our scanty wire rigging. We bury our bows. -For five minutes our faces pour with rain and spray, the next -five we dry and shiver in the cold and early sun, and vainly -search the horizon for a whale. We think, almost with -regret, of warm rooms in town in the South. There is no -rest anywhere, aft or forward, or on the bridge, and we plug -on northwards, and there’s never a blow anywhere in this -useless bit of the world. It requires extreme æstheticism to -see beauty in such cold water and sky, and hope to see sunshine -through these squalls. We peg away in silence; -yesterday, we could talk; to-day it is too cold. We bury -our hands in our pockets and weep with the sting in our eyes. -Yesterday, we discussed, as far as we could, the reason why -whales suddenly will not rise; like trout, they do so one day -and not the next, but unlike the trout-fisher, who is usually -ready with a theory to explain the lethargy of trout, our -Norse whaler simply says: “I doan know; der yesterday -now gone; vee go vest hoondred twenty mile p’r’aps vee find -’em der.”</p> - -<p>By midday we are thirty miles beyond the limit and are -going west, and the day seems to have regretted its angry -rising and is now making amends to us by putting on all its -best things. The colour of the water has turned from dull -lead to sunny emerald-green with belts of purple, and over it -all is a lacework of lavender, the tracery of reflected sky, -picked here and there with white sea caps. A jolly exhilarating -sea occasionally comes on board, and rollicks sparkling -round our deck, full of good intention, and we make it -welcome and enjoy it, and let bygones be bygones and pretend -to forget it is not always in such a jolly mood.</p> - -<p>I knew we would get sun and warmth out N.W.; there is -a space of ocean if you can only find it just between W. and -E. that is always sunny and full of whales. I know it, but -cannot give exact latitude and longitude; that is why it is -so hard to find, but you are sure to strike it in time; so -probably we will do so again to-day. We are getting the -sun now, we only need the whales, and a little less sea for -pleasure and comfort.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus8"> -<img src="images/illus8.jpg" width="700" height="525" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Leaving Our Two Whales at the Station</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus9"> -<img src="images/illus9.jpg" width="700" height="525" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Finner Whale Being Cut Up</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">Commencing to cut strips of the blubber with a flensing knife. The -blubber is being pulled away as the man cuts by a chain and steam winch.</p> -</div> - -<p>The writer and the skipper were discussing the colours of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> -the sea; Henriksen, unlike the average whaler, does not -despise things æsthetic; on the contrary, he takes delighted -interest in Nature’s picture-book. As we painted, and discussed -how to get this effect, and the other, there came from -the crow’s nest the welcome cry of “A blast!” and the response -from the bridge: “How far?” We were bowling south with -a blustering, following wind, really too rough for whaling, for -the sea made us yaw this way and that. However, there -was no choice; there was half-a-chance and it was not to be -missed. It did not turn out to be a long chase; it was a -solitary finner and we swung after his first blow a mile to -port and at his third blow were within a quarter of a mile. -Then he sounded, and in twenty minutes came up again and -blew a twenty-foot blast of steam into the bright windy air. -Again we pursued and were nearly in shot at his second -blast, and were following him north against the sea with the -foam coming splendidly over us at every dive, making one -fairly gasp with excitement and cold, but feet and legs held -good; they shake a little, we notice, whilst we look on at -another gunner. We were all wrong at the third rise; a -mile out and very disappointed, then, to our astonishment, -three minutes after appeared a blast to leeward, and the -huge, plum-coloured shoulders of a leviathan coming right -across our course—the same whale or another we could not -tell. A turn of the engine then “Saghte” (Slowly), and we -surged ahead, rising and falling on the far too big waves. -Then a strange and rare sight came; owing to the position -of the sun, the light shone right into the banks of -waves, and inside one and along it, we obtained a splendid -full-length view of the whale under the greeny water looking -almost yellow and white. We have only on very few occasions -obtained such a complete view of a whale, when looking -down on one, but in this case, it was a complete side view. -Up we rose in a thirty-foot surge, and the top of his dark shiny -head appeared, up rushed the blast, and over went his enormous -back. How we wished it was higher out of the water. -As we plunged down a wave its back showed at its highest, -and we pulled the trigger, aiming almost uphill as we plunged -our bows under. It was a longer shot than usual, about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> -forty yards and in rougher weather, and the harpoon plunged -in at the centre of the target! What a boom and whirl of -rope and smoke, and what a glorious moment of suspense -and then intense satisfaction when the great line tautened -up and began to run—some excuse for a wave of the -cap.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing5.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Harpooning a Whale</p> -</div> - -<p>But wait...! What is this? the line is suddenly -slack. There was no miss—what has happened we cannot -tell. All we can do is to wind up—we have lost him, -somehow or other!</p> - -<p>I know men who feel almost relieved at missing a whale, -for they say they have had the hunt, which is better than the -actual harpooning, and after-play, and so I have heard some -salmon-fishers talk, who say they hook their salmon, then -hand the rod to their gillie. Not so with the writer; one -part of whaling or fishing is as good as the other to me, and -to harpoon your whale and lose it is too distressing for words.</p> - -<p>At last the harpoon comes on board—the flanges have -never opened!—there is flesh on them, and a foot up the -shaft—two and a half feet it had entered, and yet came out! -possibly the marlin round the flanges was too strong to allow -of them spreading. Possibly the explosive point made too<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> -great a hole and allowed the flashes to miss their anchoring -hold. It was bad luck for us and for the whale. Our -leviathan disappeared and we wound up, very melancholy.<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> -A slight consolation was that a neighbouring whaler was -seen to fire at another whale; we heard the boom and saw -the smoke, and nothing more—she had made a clean miss! -probably owing to the roughness of the sea.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing6.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">View of Whale under Water</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> - -</div> - -<p>The solitary finner we hunted disappeared, and we -hunted for hours towards heavy purple clouds in -the S.W., and the sea seemed deserted as before, -till towards six o’clock we saw a blow, and soon after saw -the crow’s nest of a whaler above the horizon; she appeared -to be working to and fro as if hunting a whale.</p> - -<p>In half-an-hour we were amongst great large whales! and -began the most spectacular whale-hunt we have ever seen. -For two and a half days we had hunted blank, lifeless ocean, -then, without rhyme or reason, it was brimming with life! -An indigo bank of cloud there was for background, a complete -vivid rainbow against that—beneath it the swelling -seas, dark green with purple lights and white foam, with here -and there whales’ white blasts catching the western sun from -a score or fifty enormous finners. In every direction were -dolphins with yellow and white stripes, and porpoises spurting -water up like cannon shots as they dived; overhead were -petrels and dark skuas. The whales’ plum-coloured backs -caught the western light and reflected the sky on their upper -surface in tints of lavender as they rose, glittering and -powerful, in green and white foaming water, thousands of -pounds sterling, and millions of horse-power, in groups of -three or four surging along beside each other, east and west, -sending up mighty jets of steam, to be carried away in the wind.</p> - -<p>As we went in chase of a group of these we saw the other -whaler was fast to a whale, over which she apparently had -no control.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus10"> -<img src="images/illus10.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Towing a Whale</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">The top plate shows a fluke, that is, one half of a whale’s tail, -fastened by a chain to the bows. This is cut away to prevent resistance -to the water. Note the gun and harpoon on the bows.</p> -<p class="caption-sub">The middle plate shows two 5½″ lines attached to a whale.</p> -<p class="caption-sub">The bottom plate shows the double-barrelled winch and line and grooved -wheel on which the hard wood brake acts.</p> -</div> - -<p>The whales were feeding, but travelling so fast that we could -not come up with them, so we cut across their course, and -dozens of times we thought we were going to get our chance. -Then other bigger whales crossed, and we gave up the first -lot and went plunging after the others, throwing up grand -showers of foam over our bows and oilskins. But cold and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> -wet you do not think of, with seventy or eighty tons charging -in front of you and the chance of getting in the harpoon any -moment. For several hours we chased in this wonderful -piece of sea, so brimful of life, but the whales dodged about -at a most unusual rate; possibly their rapidity of motion -was caused by the host of dolphins and porpoises that leapt -alongside them and crossed their course; and for all these -hours we could occasionally descry our neighbour through -the rain showers and failing light, still in tow of her prey. -Not till about nine o’clock did she fire a second gun and -we hoped she had got in another harpoon to finish her -prolonged fight.</p> - -<p>Often we were close to a whale but not in such a -position as to be able to swing the gun towards it. For -some time a huge fellow surged close alongside within one -or two feet of our starboard beam and never touched -us. I think they must have a sense by which they can -judge their distance from a vessel’s or boat’s side or ice: -one can hardly believe they judge the distance by the eye -alone.</p> - -<p>At about ten o’clock our real chance came—we crashed -down from a high sea almost on top of a whale as it rose -unexpectedly, but it was too close, we could not depress the -gun enough to get the foresight on, but the next rise, the -moment after its blast we were high in air and let drive as we -came down and were fast and sure.</p> - -<p>I do not know how to describe the grand rush of a huge -whale or that fractional pause of uncertainty after the boom -and smoke and flame and the whirl of great rope. It is heart-stopping, -almost solemn. You watch the seething black -boil where the whale has gone down, with small flecks of -scarlet in it, and the great cable fading down into the depths, -and the gun-wads smoking on the water. Then off goes -the cable to right or left! Sixty to seventy miles an hour, -cutting the water into foam, and we swing into the course -of the whale. Before going fairly in tow on this occasion, -an unusual thing happened. The whale’s huge head, -immediately after it sounded, suddenly shot up twenty -yards in front of our bows, twenty feet in the air, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> -went as quickly down. We were glad it had not touched -us, or we would have had quick work to get into our -boat, and our little steamer would have made a deep-sea -sounding.</p> - -<p>About three hundred and sixty fathoms ran out before -we saw further sign; running over the two ringing barrels -of our strong steam winch, five times round each barrel -with the brake such as you see on a railway engine wheel -hard down and burning; then foam appeared a quarter of -a mile in front, and our whale’s flippers, then the mighty -flukes of its enormous tail, slowly threshing the sea into -white. To right and left it travelled, towing us ahead -whilst our engine reversed at eight knots but not for long. -We managed to wind up some line and got the gun loaded -again, thinking it might take another harpoon to stop it, -for lancing from the small boat in such a heavy sea would -have been too dangerous, even if possible.</p> - -<p>It was a short fight. At ten-thirty we harpooned it; at -eleven-thirty we had it alongside; a weight and line thrown -over its tail; took out a heavy chain which was shackled -round above the tail and hauled by the steam winch to our -port bow beside the anchor davit, then with the huge body -with its lovely white corded underside above water surging -alongside we steamed ahead. It seemed to be about -seventy feet and would probably weigh about seventy tons, -and it made us lie well over to port. To float it a little -higher out of the water, we drove a pointed tube with -holes in its side through the white kid skin, and blew in air -and steam. We began our day’s hunting at three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> and -wound up and started home at eleven-twenty <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> We have -to go, without waiting for another whale, for we fear the -station hands may be standing idle and we have ninety -miles to cover at not much more than six miles an hour, -for the dead whale alongside stops our speed.</p> - -<p>No two whale hunts are alike; one trip you come -home with a “clean ship” and empty bunkers, the -next you get two or even three whales in a couple -of days and come home at once and give all hands, -Shetlanders and Norsemen on shore, work for night and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> -day.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Here we consider three in a day for one steamer -a big catch.</p> - -<p>Another Government regulation restricts our number of -steamers and we are allowed to have only two, so that often -it happens, owing to our only having two steamers and both -of them being out hunting, our station hands stand idle, -but the restrictions put on this new industry by official -“experts” at home and in our colonies, who have only -recently learned that this whaling exists, make too tearful -a subject to insist on here.</p> - -<p>During a summer season, our Shetland station, with only -two steamers, may catch from seventy to one hundred. There -are any number of whales, but they are becoming every year -more wary. Needless to say that a whale, if it is frightened, -cannot be approached. The whole of the whale’s body is -used. The best of the meat is sent to Copenhagen, bought -by Danish butchers at the stations for 18s. a barrel, sold at -Copenhagen as a delicacy at £9 a barrel. It is very good to -eat—between beef and veal, but rather better than either. -The Japanese pay 25 cents a pound for it, but we use it for -fertilising fields. The oil extracted from the blubber, meat -and bone, sells now at about £4 a barrel; six barrels equal, -roughly, a ton (2240 lb.). But the value of whale oil is -increasing owing to the invention of a “hardening” process -by which the oil is turned into white tasteless edible fat -excellent for cooking purposes.</p> - -<p>The Right Atlantic whale (Biscayensis), of which we get -one or two in the year, is worth £300 to £400, owing to its -having good whalebone. What we usually catch, “seihvale,” -and “finners,” have only a little bone in their jaws, worth -about £30 per ton. The Greenland Right whale that used to -be fished had sometimes a ton of it, which a few years ago was -worth from £2000 to £3000. The prices fluctuate considerably. -When this modern whaling began oil went down -£10 a ton; now, even though the production is enormously -increased, its value is £24 per ton, and will rise in a year or -two very much.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span></p> - -<p>In the north the largest whale we have killed was seventy-five -feet in length. But in the south, in the Antarctic regions, -we have fired into whales well over one hundred feet in -length, and have heard from reliable observers of whales -killed and measured up to one hundred and twenty feet.</p> - -<p>To get the full value out of a whale it must be taken to a -station on shore or to a floating factory. After the blubber is -removed thirty per cent. more oil is obtained from the carcass -by cooking the meat and bone in huge tanks. This meat -oil is twenty per cent. less in value than the blubber oil.</p> - -<p>The residue of bone and meat is ground into guano, -which fetches about £7 per ton. This meat oil and guano -together give an addition of more than fifty per cent. to the -value of the blubber alone. This guano is much used in -America for exhausted cotton soils, and I have been told -that it is beginning to be used for rubber estates.</p> - -<p>Before writing more about the cruise of the St Ebba, -I may be allowed to insert here another chapter of notes on -modern whaling made on board another whaler in these -same seas—that is, to the north, east and west of the -Shetlands.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Whaling has its seamy side. We met it outside -the loch going up west of Shetland—the wind had -almost dropped, but the cross sea it left was as -if several Mulls of Cantire had been rolled together, and -neither our little whaler nor its crew liked it a bit. Rocky -capes and islands were blurred in mist and spouting foam, -and sometimes obscured by passing rain and hail showers. -About eight or nine, morning, we were off Flugga, the most -northerly point of Britain’s possessions, and the weather was -simply beastly; by two in the afternoon, we were about -sixty miles north-east, in an intensely blue sea, with immense -silky rollers, it might have been in the N.E. Trades. It was -just what I expected; thirty to forty miles north of the -islands you strike sun and clear sky—we always do, then go -west fifty miles and you come up against a curtain of rain.</p> - -<p>At three-five we are sloping along half-speed north-easterly -over a splendid silky swell, all our eyes sweeping the horizon. -The boy beside me at the wheel is the first to spot a blow, to -which we promptly swing our whaler, and immediately after, -on the horizon, we discover the faintest possible suggestion -of a blow, a minute cloud hardly enough to swear by, as big -as the tip of a child’s little finger. It fades away and we -are sure it is the blow of some kind of whale, and the boy rings -up the engine-room and, grinning, shouts down the tube: -“Megat Stor Nord Capper, full speed!” This to make the -stokers lay on, for a Nord Capper means £1 apiece bounty -money to each of our crew of ten men.</p> - -<p>At three-ten we begin the hunt; we go seven miles towards -the first blow, when there is a shout from the look-out in the -crow’s nest, and we find big spouts within a mile from our left. -So the skipper goes forward to his beloved rusted swivel gun -or cannon, in his weathered green jacket, a picturesque figure -against the immense blue silky sunny swell.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span></p> - -<p>Five minutes the whale stays down, then comes up to -starboard. “How many were there?” says Jensen to the -look-out in the crow’s nest. “Two big and a calf.” Eight -minutes they stay down and appear half-a-mile to starboard; -there is the lovely silence of a sailing-ship as we wait -with the engines stopped, studying fleecy clouds and the silky -blue stripe our track has left on the swell. It is this rapid -contrast that gives the charm to whaling—this morning, in -hail and black-eyed sea, a blurred sea and landscape of -beaten cliffs and capes; this afternoon a wide horizon, and -not a ship in sight, the colour and width of it! But here he -is! He came up half-a-mile to port—appeared two or three -times, at a few seconds’ interval, then “tailed up,” that -slow, farewell turn over of the after part of the body as it -goes down for a deep dive; and we follow its general direction. -In ten minutes he appears a mile to N.W. It is four -o’clock, the air S.W. and cold, and bright enough to be N.E.</p> - -<p>“Saghte!” (Norse for softly, slowly), he ought to be -up soon.... 4.3 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> There he is half-a-mile to east—we -hear the blast. These North-Atlantic whales don’t make -half such a resonant loud blast as the Antarctic whales -... another whale blowing to E. by S.... Four-twelve. -Within two hundred yards, a little to port—we follow, a -stern chase—note blue sky reflected on wet plum-coloured -back ... within fifty yards when he made his last dive, -Jensen had the gun swung ... separate whale appears to -the right—very large ... nearly fired. Four-twenty. -Behind, to port, we swing round—we are lacing the rippling -swell with blue silky bands—“Lord!” there it is! at the -second rise under our bow—<span class="allsmcap">BANG</span>!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A splendid shot!—away goes the line at seventy miles the -hour and we are hauled quickly round, and are taken in tow -eight miles an hour and the engines going eight miles astern, -if that is not exhilarating!</p> - -<p>Jensen wipes his nose on red handkerchief—the cook and -engineer are at the winch brakes—there is a thin furrow of -Union Jack colours, red blood, white foam in the blue of -ocean—and the line still whirling out at intervals. We “fish<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> -fine,” the casting line is sixty fathoms, the rope four and a -half inches in circumference, the finest Italian hemp procurable, -with a backing of two thousand one hundred and -sixty-six feet, five-and-half inches rope to port, and the -same to starboard, a total of eight thousand six hundred and -twenty feet. The line passes five times round the two barrels -of a sixty-five horse-power winch. It is “fine tackle” compared -to the seventy or eighty ton fighting finner that we -are playing.... 4.25—not much line out, only about one -thousand five hundred feet—now we go more slowly in -tow.—It was a well-placed shot ... a few Mother Carey -chickens come and some fulmar petrels, later a solan goose!—there -is a little blood now in its feeble blast, it thrashes -with its tail—more line going out—we go astern to drown it. -The nose appears, exactly the colour of a salmon at a distance—it -turns over. 4.33—White ribbed underside up—now -it is dead and it sinks. The line is rove over large iron -snatch block<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> up the mast and the steam winch begins to -turn slowly, raising the whale from the depths; a slow, -steady, funereal clank; a great chain is manœuvred round -the tail and it is hauled up to the side of the bow by the -winch; getting the tail chained up to the bow is a complicated, -heavy bit of seaman’s work. A magnificent and -beautiful thing is the tail in colour and form; so wide and -big and yet so delicate in design and finish and plum-like -colour and so immensely strong. The body swings alongside, -the head reaches our stern quarters, the line is cut clear -of the harpoons in its body. 4.55—Two hours after we first -sighted the whale, a quick hunt, play, and kill. 5.3—Blowing -it up and off for second whale.</p> - -<p>Blowing up, as already described, is putting a hollow lance -into whale and blowing through it air and steam, which -makes the body slightly more buoyant and more easy to -tow.</p> - -<p>5.30—Sight another whale. Meantime Jensen has been<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> -cleaning out the whale gun on the bows with tow and -cleaning rod and the charge is put in, and the india-rubber -wad driven home on top of three hundred and eighty-five -grammes of black powder. The second line from the port -side of the hold is made ready, and a new harpoon, one and -a half hundredweights, slung from the hold. The line is -spliced to the twisted wire grummet or ring that travels in -a slot in the shaft of the harpoon, which is rammed into the -gun so that line and ring hang from the shaft at the muzzle -of the gun. Getting this done and putting chains and ropes -in order takes time and a considerable amount of work for -five men, and meanwhile we on the bridge are conscious, as -we roll, of occasional whiffs from the galley of roast whale -steak and onions. For merit I place caribou meat first, -whale and black bear about equal, in second place, and beef -third.</p> - -<p>Five-forty-five. We have screwed on the explosive point to -the harpoon (over the time fuse), swung round the gun, and -are off in pursuit of the whale we sighted at five-thirty. By -six-thirty he has appeared several times, made two or three -handsome blasts and gone down “tail up,” and we followed, -as we thought, in the direction he took, but he always -appeared right off our track. I use the term “tail up” not -quite accurately here; the expression really means the whole -tail going into air as the whale goes down for a long dive. In -the case of these northern finners it is generally only the part -of the back next to the tail that is raised, not the flukes, -and this rising tells you the whale intends to go down deep -for twenty minutes or half-an-hour. “A wrong vone,” -the engineer says—“he be chased before.” You see the -engineer, when his mate is below, joins in the sport of watching, -ahead, to port, to starboard and astern, and works the -winch when we are playing the fish; always there is work -for all, and little enough time for meals, if any.</p> - -<p>Whilst we roll about in the swell waiting for the leviathan -to make our closer acquaintance, I may relate some of -the thrilling dangers with which the track of the modern -whaler is beset. Novel, unfamiliar dangers must always -make interesting reading when people are tired of hearing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span> -of the risks we all run at any crossing as pedestrians or -motorists.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus11"> -<img src="images/illus11.jpg" width="700" height="400" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Two Whales being Hauled on to a Slip</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">The nearest whale is a Bull finner. A man is seated on the farthest. The -men in the foreground are cutting meat from the spine of a third whale.</p> -</div> - -<p>Off Norway, several steam-whalers have had sea-water -and daylight let into them by careless whales, and a whale -here, some years ago, when the industry was new, took -offence at being fired at, and flew at the innocent little -steamer (seventy tons solid life and energy against a ninety-five-foot -boat) with jaws wide open and generally chewed-up -rails and superstructures, so the owners hardly knew it when -it came back to the station. But whales are not in the habit -of behaving like this. I did myself, however, experience a -mild charge last year; possibly the charge was unintentional, -but certainly the whale came straight at our starboard bow, -and had we not been quick enough to swing and depress the -gun’s muzzle and shoot at six yards, something might have -happened; as it was the whale came on and struck a dead -whale we had alongside, and with its impetus it gave our -little ship a considerable dunt in the ribs. “If” it had -not been hit and “if” it had struck us a little harder, say -twice, we would have had to row home a hundred miles -in the boats, which would have been rather a come-down -from steaming the wide seas o’er, on our up-to-date little -whaler, the Haldane of Colla Firth.</p> - -<p>“If” another whale a few nights ago had pulled a little -harder, when it suddenly changed from towing us forward -to towing us astern, we might have been quite upset, whereas -we were only half-seas over. But alas, there was a really -very sad and dreadful experience here, two years ago. -Captain Torp, a fine man and a good gunner, fired at a -whale and the harpoon ricochetted, and three hundred and -eighty-five grammes driving a one-and-a-half-hundredweight -harpoon burst the five-inch cable, and the inside end -came back and wound round him and broke him unspeakably -from head to foot, and yet he lived two days, and fourteen -ounces of chloroform had little effect.</p> - -<p>Then, too, one sometimes gets sunk whilst whaling. -Casperg, a master in Ronas Voe, our next-door station, had -that experience—went down in his cabin with pipe and -tobacco pouch in hand, felt himself kicking the rock with his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> -sea-boots under the kelp before he had time to strike a light. -He came up all right, but four of his crew stayed down; -that was recently. And my friend Sorrensen, engineer of -the Haldane, told me comfortingly last year, as we chatted -in the warm engine-room one dismal, dark, rough night, -when we were trying to find land, that on his last whaling -trip to Iceland, in making land in a gale of snow and wind, -“on a night like this,” he observed a large rock suddenly -protrude itself through his engine-room floor, which finished -his trip for that year. “Yes, yes, two tree skip do so,” he -said.</p> - -<p>The wonder really is that more accidents are not met with. -The whale’s head is such a weight of bone; the pointed mass -on the upper jaw or beak meeting the huge bent bones of the -lower make a most formidable ram.</p> - -<p>Another close shave there was the other day. A⸺ tried -to lance a whale in its death-struggle from the little -steamer’s bows. We have tried this ourselves with and -without success. On this occasion the whale raised its huge -flipper, swung it across the gun at the bow, which was loaded -with the harpoon in it, and its muzzle was thrown round so -heavily that the harpoon was shot out on deck and the shell -exploded. No one was hurt, but A⸺’s oilskin coat had -holes torn in it between his legs—and so on....</p> - -<p>By eight <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> we had eaten our whale steak (meals are at any -hour or no hour when you are whaling), discussed the latest -type of whaler, Captain Larsen’s three-gun boat, and had -given up that wily old dodger of a finner, and now we peg -away over the blue sea to the N.E. The sun swings round -with us to dip quite near the north, whilst we wait and rest -until it comes up again in a few hours to form our gallery. -True, we have another companion beside the few petrels. -The Busta, our sister ship, is in the offing. She also has a -whale alongside; we can make it out with the glasses as she -rises over a blue surge; and as I write, far to the west I -descry an almost invisible smoke, which I hope is a boat of -our Alexandra Company, the Queen, or the Haldane.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing7.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>At nine-thirty the sun slants below the horizon and the -colour display begins toning down to soft, warm light in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> -north and violet in the south and west. It is very still, the only -sound the surge of the water over the white-ribbed flounces of -our whale’s underside as it tows alongside. We speak little; -there is the skipper, and the man at the wheel, on the bridge, -and one above us in the crow’s nest; the rest are sleeping -below. It is the romantic, beautiful time at sea, formality -goes, we talk a little of home and families we have, or may -have, and the night, as it were, just droops her golden eyes, -and in a very little while raises them on another day, blue -and fresh as ever, and we begin another day’s hunting, to -get, if we can, one more whale to tow to our harbour in the -south, there to provide work and pay for Shetlanders and -Norwegians, food for Danes and ourselves, and fertilisers for -farmers’ crops and cattle, each of which subjects could not -be treated of in less than a page of these notes for itself. -But one word I may be allowed here for readers who are -interested in fertilisers for vegetables, and cattle foods. For -both these purposes the cooked and ground-down whale meat -and bone is invaluable, and it costs about one-sixth the price -of ordinary fertilisers—but beware, don’t use it for the latter -purpose without digging it into the soil. The gardener of -my friend, C. A. Hamilton of Dunmore, Stirlingshire, did -so—put it on the top of the soil in a vinery, and was “maist -astonished.” “Ma gosh, Maister Hamilton,” he said, -“you’d hae thocht I’d plaunted pussey cawts!” it was so -mouldy. The same worthy used it properly for turnips, dug<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> -it in, and exhibited the result at the local show, and was -disqualified! The judge said: “Mon, it’s turnips is the -exheebut—yon’s no turnips—wha ever saw neips like that—they’re -faur ower big.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A cool, sunny morning, with rolling glassy grey swell and -warmer. We are in tow of a large finner; we began to hunt -a herd (pod is the old name, it means a family party) at five-thirty. -It has taken -five hundred yards out -with several rapid -rushes of forty to fifty -miles an hour, and -there is a smell of the -burning wood of the -breaks; it is very -quiet, Jensen has -come up beside me -at the wheel. I -noticed after the shot -he again rubbed his -nose with the red -handkerchief, a little -nervous, colourful -touch. The whale -blows occasionally -and turns the swell -into white and red; -it looks as if we must -lance it from the -small boat, or get another harpoon in. It was a most -interesting chase; five monsters blowing half-a-mile apart -seemed quite a crowd. We got in between two, feeding, -and after an hour’s hunt altogether one rose a few yards to -starboard. Jensen refused it, coolly waiting for the bigger -one behind to come up in front, to the left, and mercifully -it did, slowly; you could see down its blow hole, then its -great back came out, and into, I think, its last ribs the -harpoon went, and at the wheel we were all in smoke and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> -tow. The smoke cleared and the wads lay in the swelling -vortex the monster left, and then the line rushed!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<img src="images/drawing8.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Who can describe the heart-stopping thrill as the monster -breaks the surface within shot, only perhaps the dry-fly man, -he must experience exactly the same in a minute degree.</p> - -<p>But this whale will not die, we must lance it; an eighteen-foot -spear is the lance—half iron, half wood. The pram is -swung out—we are dropped half on top of our dead whale -and slide off somehow. Jensen is handed the lance and away -we go, double sculls. Over the glassy rollers we go at a good -pace, the whale is six hundred yards away or more and -wandering from left to right, and ahead, in the deep swell, it -seems as if it would be a long business to get into reach. We -back the stern in and Jensen makes a great lunge and the -spear goes in five feet and is twisted out of his hand and the -vast body rolls over, the tail rises up and up and comes down -in a sea of foam. We pull clear back in again at next rise and -draw the spear all bent, straighten it, and one more thrust -finishes the business and the whale spouts red and dies.</p> - -<p>It is a quarter to eight when we finally get the tail up to -our port bow and go off easterly; we must be seventy miles -N.E. off the Shetland Isles.</p> - -<p>Whales seem to be such good beasts, and have such kind -brown eyes—nothing of the fish in them, and their colouring -is that of all the sea; their backs are grey-black to dove-colour, -reflecting the blue of the sky, and the white of their -underside is like the white of a kid glove with the faintest -pink beneath, so white it makes the sea-foam look grey as it -washes across it to and fro, and the white changes to emerald-green -in the depths to the blue-green of an iceberg’s foot. It -is strange that this skin should be so extremely delicate in -such a large animal; it is too thin to be used as leather.</p> - -<p>Our first whale was fifty-four feet, say fifty tons, equal to -twenty-five to thirty barrels of oil. Second whale, seventy -feet, say forty barrels of oil.</p> - -<p>The second whale was a bull “fish,” according to S. -Johnson of Fleet Street, and the dark colouring came farther -over the white corduroy waistcoat than in the female. It is -curious how the grey colour blends into the white exactly as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span> -if it were drawn with a lead pencil on ivory in perfect imitation -of hair; from a few yards you think it is hair, for its -formation so resembles the lie of hair on other mammals. I -have never heard of this having been observed by naturalists. -I am sure a Darwin might make endless deductions from it, -coupled with the belief of the old neolithic Indians of Newfoundland -that the caribou had gradually changed into -whales. The colour of the caribou is quite like the colour of -these Seihvale. But we must keep off speculations on the -origin of species, and these marks in particular, and the -whale’s pedigree, opinions, and domestic life. It is such -a large subject, though fascinating. Many authentic and -startlingly new facts have been gathered since this modern -whaling began. For example, a whale was killed last year -“wid six leetle children in it.” This will rather astonish -naturalists—it horrified a Shetland lady in whose hearing a -polite Norseman made the relation—but that there were six -embryos is a fact I vouch for. I hope some naturalist of -means will some day charter a vessel and suitable observers -to make a few years’ study of the subject round the world. -H.S.H. the Prince of Monaco has set the example, particularly -in regard to the study of the sperm whale.</p> - -<p>It was grey all day, grey sky reflected in lavender-grey -water, the surface hardly indicated till an endless shoal of -dolphins came out from the shadow of a cloud in the east. -They were pretty enough to watch, but we had little time -for two finners led us miles here and there over the ocean, -but eluded us ever; we had little chance of circumventing -them by reason of our two whales in tow. We gave them -up and went after spouts like cannon shots against the dark -rain-cloud to the east; and this time cleared ourselves of our -bag; slipped the heavy chains, fastened a buoy with a tall -flag to the two bodies and left them in charge of the Molly -Mawks or Fulmar Petrels. But the family of finners we -pursued were very wide awake, and though we pursued them -for weary hours we never got quite within shot, though dozens -of times we whispered to ourselves “A certain shot!” So with -more trouble we took our two whales in tow again, and left -the gulls lamenting, for already they had begun to pick away<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> -the delicate white skin. Then we “up sticked” and steered -away south-west to this sunny part of the sea, and dozed -comfortably as we went, our best speed about six knots, for -home.</p> - -<p>A fisherman is not to be pitied coming home with seventy -tons to port and sixty to starboard, enjoying the sense of -comfort and well-being that comes after the first hardening -days at sea, enjoying the pure air and the scent of roasting -coffee. We do ourselves well on our Norwegian boats this -year; at least the coffee is good. As we imbibe it and think -our sport is over, we come into warmer weather, a froth of -soft white and grey clouds reflected in the swell, two whalers -on the horizon and finners in sight. So it’s all alive-o! -Off with the guns’ coverings—we may have a third whale -to show the girls on shore—(if there were any!). And we -chased these too in the silky silence of that space of sea -and air and reflections of fairy lands of softest, most pearly -cumulus clouds with only a spot of frosted blue overhead -to give force to the faintest yellow, the only sound, the soft -thrum of our subdued screw beat and the occasional surge -as we crushed down on the glassy swell, and every now and -then the great deep, deep sigh of the seventy-ton finners -rising in front, alas always just out of reach. One of the -whales bore a scar where we think a harpoon had glanced off. -The Fritjiof, a neighbour whaler, also occupied this ocean -chamber a few miles off and quietly went about in tow of -a whale; we saw her fire one shot and noted the colour of the -smoke, blue against her hull fading to rusty brown across the -sky. She had four lines into the beast when we called on her -later, and chatted across the swell to the harpooneer.</p> - -<p>Now we have again picked up our prey of dead whales -and are toddling home five to six miles an hour at full -steam, and ought to be in by dinner-time to-morrow, -Wednesday—that is, twelve o’clock.</p> - -<p>Wednesday morning, it is, it must be! But it seems -months since Wednesday last week. Yesterday seemed a -week, with its endless gallery of magnificent sky and sea -pictures. Now there is time for a shave and a wash in the -sun on the top of the engine-house. What intense luxury!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span> -What joy to sit and shave and be unconscious of the roll, -how superior we feel compared to the townsmen who left -Leith a week ago. There’s the rush and sound of many -waters over our whales on either side, the largest a little less -than our own length. All hands have an easy time. It -takes two watches (eight hours each) down the Shetland -shore to our station, and no whales about. Of course the -land is clouded, and we regret that sunny chamber to the -N. and E. of Shetland. I speak to Jensen as we pass the -western cliffs and he verifies my experience; to the N.W. -you come against dark hangings of rain, N.E. you are in sun, -back to land and you are in clouds again. It is no wonder -that sunny, crystalline stretch of sea a hundred miles north -of Flugga Light calls to one in town to go a-whaling.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Having put down these recent experiences of modern -whaling, which, though not exciting, may at least -be instructive, let us return to follow the fortunes -of our patient whalers on the St Ebba.</p> - -<p>It is September now, and a Wednesday, and early and -clear and cold, with no gale, with just a ripple down Lerwick -Bay; one or two people are lighting their peat fires and the -scent comes off to us on the pure, almost wintry air, and we -hoist the Union Jack astern though no one may see it, and -let steam into the steam donkey-engine, and up comes the -port anchor, then the starboard and there is a pause and a -bell rings for stand-by, then half-speed and clash goes the -air pressure; then full speed, and the motor settles down -to its steady musical beat and hum. We are becoming -more easy in our minds now about our air compressor starting -the engine, but have not quite forgotten that failure -down south-west of Norway, in the heavy weather, and -the subsequent twenty-four hours of hand-pumping for air -pressure to start the engine.</p> - -<p>Now we swing round and head south and east out of -Lerwick Bay, past the Bressay Light on our left, and then -turn northwards towards Whalsey and the Outer Skerries, -making for Yell Sound and the west of Shetland for whales, -finners, rorquals or big cetaceans of any kind. I found on -my visit to the west coast of Shetland on Sunday, to our -whaling station there, that our steam-whalers had left for -Norway a week previously. Owing to the rough weather -they said the season was over; but they left word that there -were still whales about the coast as close as five miles. Now -we have lovely weather to-day, though so cold it feels as if -we were at the start of the spring fishing rather than arriving -at the end of the season. It will be rather rich if we capture -a few whales when the others have fled. At any rate we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> -have the joyous sense of freedom from competitors that we -trout and salmon fishers feel when we find our favourite -pool is unoccupied by another rod.</p> - -<p>But, dear brother anglers, could I but tell you of the joy -of preparation for whaling! You know how your fingers -almost tremble as you undo your casts for the first day’s -fishing of the year, and what pleasure there is in all the -preparations.</p> - -<p>Now we are enjoying a similar pleasure, only our preparations -are on a larger scale, fifteen there are of us, all doing -something to help. The captain and the writer sit on the -bridge and con the chart with thumb and finger, picking up -the points—rocks, skerries, beacons. “Steady she is now, -keep her heading for Muckle Skerry,” with Isbister, Moa, Nista -and Nacka skerries on our left. Another mile or two in this -direction and we will turn westwards right through Yell -Sound that divides the main island from the island of -Yell.</p> - -<p>A swell comes from the north and there is a fresh, pleasant -ripple, and sea and sky are blue as can be expected up north -in September, and everyone is busy, some on deck, some below, -engineers at the engine—it takes very little attention. Then -there is a jolly hot fire amidship, where the smith is busy at -his forge. The mate gives him a hand with the bellows and -there is the cheery sound of the ring and beat of red iron -on the anvil. The bos’n, a mere lad, of fairest northern -type but of much seafaring knowledge, sits in a sunny spot -sewing canvas. Hansen beside him is peeling potatoes, -and some of the crew bring up bolts of canvas preparatory -to the task we have before us of making awnings, awnings -against the hot sun of the equator. It is a little difficult -up here in the north to believe there is such a thing as hot -weather, when we find two ply of winter clothes none too -warm in the sun.</p> - -<p>We have our three guns in the bow still swaddled in canvas, -but we will take that off and get them ready farther up the -Yell Sound, and perhaps give my late host a salute as we -pass Lochend.</p> - -<p>We rather hug ourselves for having at last and at length<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> -escaped from official red-tape entanglements and got to the -comparative wilds of the west of Shetland.</p> - -<p>Last night before we left Lerwick we entertained the Custom -House and other officials very modestly, I must here -say, and they entertained us too in the way of songs and -arguments and stories. A Swedish captain joined the entertainment -and our evening meal of cormorants and light -beer without making a very wry face at either, and later he -gave us songs. He was slightly grizzled, with close-cropped -beard and hair, with brilliant blue eyes, and he shook his -head and beard and closed his eyes whilst he sang, and hit -off some of his notes most exquisitely truly—sang Freuden’s -“Der ganger tre Jenter i Solen” (Three maids towards the -sun went under the linden trees, and the flowers swept their -skirts as they sang tra-la, tra-la, tra-la-la-la), and he quite -excelled himself and shook his head twice as hard, in a -dainty ditty about a maid who argued she might do many -things “For mama did so when she var a flikke” (I think -“flikke” stands for our “flapper”), and verses of this he -hummed and sang right into the middle of our most solemn -debates on international politics. Our friend of the “wyles” -and the Bow Bells accent, junior Customs officer, turned out -to be Southern Irish, and for the evening at least a strong -Home Ruler and Socialist. His song was too blue to catch -on, but his Socialism raised Henriksen’s fighting spirit -to such heat that we had almost to hold the disputants. -But through all the smoke and heated discussion and -small amount of beer, our worthy Swede either slept or -awakened and sang “So did mama, when she were a -flikke,” smiling and shaking his head in a most ingratiating -manner.</p> - -<p>Then we had a Gaelic song from MacDiarmid of the Isles, -and Glen Lyon, and with the Norwegian national song we -dispersed, the Swede still smiling, singing about the flikke, -and the Cockney from Cork firing off fluent platitudes. -Henriksen would hardly believe me when I told him that -any Southern Irishman could be just as eloquent and -excited on any side of any subject under the sun. I hope -they were not all drowned, for they went ashore in a very<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span> -small, leaky harbour boat, five souls, one pair of oars, and it -dark, late and windy.</p> - -<p>But to continue our cast round the islands for whales—we -motor steadily through Yell Sound and past Haldane’s -house at Lochend and its silvery crescent shore, with the -little green crofts and low, misty hills beyond. We swing -round his bay and blow our horn three times and by-and-by -we see two figures, Haldane and his gillie, against the white -house with its many little windows in the thick walls and -they wave a greeting and we dip our flag three times and -proceed west and north till we feel the ocean swell again, -and pass Ramna Stacks, the battered sentinels at the north -entrance to Yell Sound, home of cormorants and shag. A -lumpy sea generally heaves about them, throwing white -fountains up their dark sides. Often I have seen them -when passing up the coast in whalers, and always they express -a rough, rugged aspect of the sea. I have known them -change their colour in a most remarkable manner in the space -of a few moments, from livid yellow to green and back again, -and at their feet lie many shells of great value deposited there -in H.M.S. by various cruisers. This is how it happened. -One day an admiral came from the outer seas at thirty miles -an hour and called on R. C. Haldane and said he’d like to -have a shot or two at the Stacks as they were exquisite targets. -So Haldane agreed, seeing the matter was one of national -service. And one morning, bright and early, my host climbed -on board the admiral’s ship, and in the time they had half -done breakfast they had travelled from Lochend at a fearful -speed to the Stacks, and then their owner saw the islands -stagger and change colour; when the war vessels passed -them, each decorating the islands with four shells apiece of -various explosives, each patent explosive painting the rocks -a different tint.</p> - -<p>To-day as we pass they seem to be of their natural colour -again, sombre black and red with a suggestion of pale green -grass on their sloping tops, with streaks of white on the ledges -where the sea-birds breed, undisturbed by man.</p> - -<p>N. by W. we steer, the wind ahead as usual, with a careful -look-out for whales, the wind rising meantime till the sea<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span> -becomes too rough for harpooning; then we turn tail to the -rising sea and fine rain and do a patrol southwards. As it -still grows rougher and there is no sign of any kind of life, -whales or birds, or whales’ food<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> in the water, and as we have -a sheltered anchorage on our lee, we right about, and head -for Colla Firth and Lochend for the night.</p> - -<p>For we argue that we can make a more certain “departure” -from Colla Firth if the weather improves to-morrow morning -than we could make after drifting a night in a strong wind -in the open sea.</p> - -<p>Now we have at last a fair wind almost aft, and up goes -our foresail and staysail and cheerily we hoist away at mainsail, -all hands pleased to turn back from a nasty sea to a cosy -night in shelter. We tramp along in great style, a sailing-ship -once more, plus the engine going steadily. We ought -to drop anchor in shelter before dark. How big the sails -seem to-day, with all the reefs out. Dear me! that foresail -must have looked very small indeed in last week’s gale, with -all the reefs in, a mere pocket-handkerchief bit of mainsail.</p> - -<p>St Ebba lies over with the squalls off shore as we get -into the wind again, but she doesn’t roll much and we feel -increasing belief in her as a sailing-ship.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">For like the Duke of York</div> - <div class="verse indent2">We have some stalwart men,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And we led them out to the High, High Sea,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And we led them back again.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">New Chantey.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>We began this day with a chantey—a cheerful, -fine-weather chantey. There are lugubrious -songs too for bad weather or unhappy crews—“Stormalong,” -for instance, “Stormie,” who “heard the -angels call.” I associate that slow minor air with the -dreary sough and rush of wind and seas south of Cape -Horn. But to-day it was the cheery</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/music1.jpg" width="700" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Then blow, ye winds, hi ho, to California,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">For there’s plenty gold, so I’ve been told,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">On the banks of Sacramento.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>It’s ages and ages since I’ve heard it, and to-day it came -off by chance with a go! We were below amongst the ropes -and harpoons, Henriksen and I and some men, and had rigged -a hand-pump to shift fresh water from midship tank into -the steward’s, and we set to, coats off, four at a time, to -pump, and I think the captain began; the fine weather we -have struck must have given us spirits, for the chantey rang -out all right; and the fellows on deck were quite surprised -and looked down, grinning. Norsemen are not great at -chanteys as a rule, but “California” is known pretty well -round the world by all nationalities.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus12"> -<img src="images/illus12.jpg" width="700" height="425" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Flensing Blubber off Polar Bear Skins</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus13"> -<img src="images/illus13.jpg" width="700" height="650" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Whale Underside Up in Tow Alongside</span></p> -<p class="caption">The ribbed white of their undersides is like the white of a kid glove.</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span></p> - -<p>The origin of the chapter heading is perhaps obscure. It -was inspired by the fact that we reached the outer ocean, -returned to Colla Firth and shelter in the evening, and -dropped anchor in the twilight opposite the Norwegian -wooden-painted buildings of the Alexandra Whale Company, -which all the workers have left for the winter, the Norsemen -to Norway, and the Shetlanders to their crofts, like bees to -enjoy their summer earnings through the winter.</p> - -<p>The morning was perfect so we weighed anchor about -five <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> As we passed Haldane’s house at Lochend, -the black blinds were still down and the sun shining on -its white wall, so we did not as much as blow our horn -to disturb its inmates but hied away for the open sea -again, past these Ramna Stacks and held a course N.W. -For about ten miles we kept this course till we got to -the forty and sixty fathom soundings that mark the change -to deep water, then turned S.W., gradually leaving Shetland -below the horizon with Foula, the outlying craggy -island showing grey against a pale rib of salmon-coloured -sky beneath the grey pigeon-coloured clouds. And for once -in a way we have what may be called a smooth sea, at least -there’s no white water, and alas and alas, no whales nor any -sign of life in the ocean. Evidently the season is over, the -Gulf Stream has been switched off.</p> - -<p>There is still so much to do on board that there is barely -time for disappointment. The whales must be somewhere, -so why not farther down our Scottish coast; so we keep going -south, one man only watching, all the rest of us busy with a -variety of work—the artist, the first mate and a hand laying -down a flooring on our main-deck or waist, made of planks we -brought from the wood behind Henriksen’s house on Nottero. -This is to save our permanent deck, for when the whales do -come they will have their dark, silky skin and firm, white fat -hauled up on to this from their bodies in the sea, and there -will be so much cutting and chopping and hauling wire -ropes and iron flinching blocks across this waist or main-deck -that our permanent deck would suffer in appearance were it -not protected. And the smith is tackling a piece of ironwork, -with the bos’n as assistant, making clamps to hold<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> -chock blocks for the new scuttle hatch or companion we have -made through the big hatch over the main hold. This being -just small enough to admit a man, we can leave it open in -bad weather for access to the hold.</p> - -<p>The captain attends to a thousand and one things without -pretending to do so, leaving as much as possible to the mate -and crew, and has a two hours’ sleep, preparatory to a night -on the bridge, and works out the course on his chart. We are -aiming—failing whales—at Tobermory, and at odd intervals -we talk whales and prospects, about this kind of whale and -the other, and the sperm in particular, that we are now setting -our hopes on meeting; as the finner has not put in an appearance, -the valuable sperm compared to the less valuable but -infinitely stronger fighting finners. Also Henriksen looks on -a little as I paint, for he is just as interested in my painting -as I am interested in his pricking out our course on the face -of one of those most suggestive pictures, the Admiralty charts. -There is nothing more fascinating, even thrilling, to my mind -than picking up this light or the other as we do to-night, -and verifying it on the chart in the cabin.</p> - -<p>Noaphead Light on the Orkneys is the first we will pick -up, we should see that soon after (or before) picking up the -“three flashes in quick succession” from that lonely skerry, -Sule Skerry, between Orkney and Cape Wrath. Its guiding -circle of radiance intersects the circle of the rays from Cape -Wrath. Cape Wrath is white and red alternately. Then -we will hie for the Butt of Lewis, weather permitting. St -Ebba give us better weather than we met there in the Balæna, -a whaling barque of the old style out from Dundee uncountable -years ago—we were twenty days hove to in a wicked gale -with broken bulwarks, spars, and tattered sails—twenty -days between Cape Wrath and the south-west of Ireland—bad -spaewives did it! Now, holy St Ebba, hear our prayer. -Dear saint, give us gentle winds and fair, and for what we -are about to receive in the way of whales or fine weather -we will be most truly thankful.</p> - -<p>This is the first mate’s birthday—he is certificated as -master and has attained the ripe age of twenty-two, quite an -advanced age for many a Norwegian master, and we celebrate<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> -his birthday and incidentally our first really fine day since we -left Norway. Our skipper believes in making small celebrations -on shipboard. He likes to get good work from the men -and be friends at the same time, a perfectly possible attainment. -All hands get a small bottle of light beer, and the -steward (cook, he would be called with us) makes pastry -for all hands. We begin our festive meal with cormorant -fricassee, you could not escape the smell anywhere aft this -afternoon. I can’t quite rise to cormorant; penguins and -several other sea-birds I like; but there’s no accounting for -taste, and our <i>mechanicien</i> or engineer, a Swede, simply dotes -on cormorants, and regrets leaving the Shetlands and the -endless supply of these hard-featured birds. Then we have -the pastry, and such pastry I have never seen equalled; -certainly our cook is more than steward, he is a <i>chef</i>! And -the bottle of brandy is brought forth (out of bond, one shilling -a bottle and not bad at that). Each of us has a little, and it -is sent to the fo’c’sle and comes back still half full—one -bottle for fifteen men and the bottle not empty! and a box -of cigars goes from mess-room to fo’c’sle likewise, and comes -back half full, so our crew cannot be said to be extravagant; -then, to complete the celebration, Nansen, the steward, sits -on the main-hatch and plays the ship’s melodeon, and Rolf, -the youngest on board, dances a pas seul on our new floor—a -dance between a mazurka and hornpipe, with two or three -clean somersaults thrown in. He is a pretty dancer, and of -good family, I am told, too lively for home, just the sort you -need on board ship. He and the steward of the pale face and -yellow hair danced together. I could just distinguish them -in the dark from the bridge against the light planks of our -newly laid working deck. For a moment, whilst the skipper -played, my heart stood still! for the steward nearly went -over our low bulwarks at a roll from the swell—his exquisite -pastry flashed across my mind.</p> - -<p>We saw Sule skerry twinkling in the night a few miles -to starboard. I would like to make a visit there, it would -be such a soothing place to live on, the solitude must be so -emphatic, for it is equidistant from Orkney and Cape Wrath, -and out of sight of either. In the morning the light on Cape<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> -Wrath went out and we saw the beetling cliffs backed with -high, bare ridges of the Sutherland mountains against a yellow -sunrise. On a soft, rolling, rippling sea and far off, a mere -speck beneath the cliffs, we made out a fellow-whaler (only a -steamer), with its long trail of smoke beneath the cliff steaming -east, and we thought she was the Hebrides, one of the -steamers of a small company, the Blacksod Bay Company -in Ireland, which I wish well. Evidently it was on its road -to Norway, so we gathered that whales must be scarce and -the weather probably bad on the Irish coast.</p> - -<p>Our saint has answered our prayer, and instead of the -wild weather we associate with these parts we go comfortably -along at eight knots, with the engine singing a soft song -to its gentle beat. What a difference between the lot of the -motor engineer at sea and the steamer’s engineer, the motor -man in a pleasantly warm, spacious room, the other in -cramped space with considerable heat, and the clanging of -stokers’ shovels.</p> - -<p>Past the E. of Lewis we motor steadily. One killer or -grampus we saw, and about a dozen dolphins in the three -days’ run south, and very few birds. So we felt confirmed -in our belief that we should proceed to Southern Seas -now, instead of waiting for whales in northern latitudes. -Evidently the season here is over.</p> - -<p>Now we have Neist Light and its double flash, to port, -and we pass Dunvegan and wish we could see the familiar -mountains of Skye. But the light is all we have, and welcome -it is; past it a little and we will have the light on Hyskeir -Rock to guide us on our way till we pick up Colonsay and -our old friend Ardnamurchan, and the light on its point -where the white-tailed eagles used to breed.</p> - -<p>Burns said: “Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless -thousands mourn.” If he had been picking up lights from -Flugga on Ultima Thule down our intricate west coast, -with its tides and islands, on a dark night, he would have -held his breath with the thought of all the human effort and -forethought these lighthouses express of man’s humanity to -man—to our countrymen, to my Norse companions, to the -Russian trader, whose light we see to-night not far astern;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span> -nation to nation offering kindly guidance and warning. -So we have various colours in the night, the pale flashing -lighthouse we steer to, and two golden eyes from our galley -casting patches of light on deck, and on either side of us a -phosphorescent Milky Way with occasionally vivid flashes -as we turn over a wave in the smooth water.</p> - -<p>But it is to bed, to bed, for to-morrow we must be astir -early, to meet relatives in Tobermory, and anchor in its -circular bay, where we have so often anchored when we were -young and unspoiled, and Mull to Ardnamurchan in a dinghy -seemed a long way, and whaling was as a tale that is told.</p> - -<p>At four o’clock in the morning we pass Hyskeir Rocks, pass -them three cables to starboard. It is dark and hazy but their -light sweeps across our deck: soon the lights on Ardnamurchan -and Coll greet us; and as sea and mountain and -air faintly separate, we pass the light on the point and pick -up Kilchoan, and then the Tobermory Light.</p> - -<p>Ardnamurchan shows a rugged, mountainous outline -against the morning sky, and to a stranger coming from the -sea, picking up the lights as he goes, it seems inhospitable. -But to the writer it recalls some similar mornings—after -smoky town down south—coming up for winter shooting. -What glens there are of birches for black game, corries for -deer, lochs for little brown trout and burns for sea-trout! -My thanks to relatives for the free run we had when we were -young—Ardnamurchan Point to Glen Borrodale, what a -playground! North beyond the point and the hills above -Kilchoan we see the hills above Loch Aylort and the coast -of Morar, “Blessed Morar,” perhaps the most beautiful spot -of the most beautiful country in the world. Where else do -you find stone pines, in deep heather growing right down -to a white coral strand, and glass-green sea-water. Then -Drimnin and Glen Morven appear west and south of Ardnamurchan, -full of memories of relations, of piping, singing, -hunting and sailing.</p> - -<p>The relatives, we presume, are all asleep now, so we won’t -awake them, as we pass, with repeated blasts on our foghorn, -as we half thought of doing—no, we will later rouse them up -with a Fiery Cross reply-paid telegram from Tobermory to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> -come across the sound to see this newest whaler. Possibly -we will, after considering mundane matters, such as potatoes -and marmalade for all hands, drop anchor at Drimnin or -Glen Morven and ask the relatives to step off and see our -wonders on board ship, but the anchorage at neither of the -places is of the very best and Tobermory is perfect.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>My Norse friends fell in love with Drimnin and Tobermory -and its round sheltered bay at first sight: we had only too -short a stay, for a wire told us my cousin, Mr C. H. Urmston, -a fellow-director in our Company, would await me in Oban, -so we up anchored, went over to Morven and dipped our -flag and blew the horn opposite Drimnin, and passed the -Urmstons’ house, Glen Morven, in silence, for we hear it -is let to a stranger from the south, and down the familiar -Sound of Mull we proceeded on this lovely summer afternoon -to the Great Oban.</p> - -<p>By the way, I met two men interested in whaling in -Tobermory! When your mind runs on a subject, is it not -odd how many people you meet who also take an interest -in same? This man is Yule by name; we met on the subject -of bagpipes; piping is the best bond and introduction to the -best men! So with two interests, whaling and piping, you -at once get very intimate. He came from the east coast—I -never met a Highlandman whaler, and not often a sailor -(they are generally Captains or Chiefs, they have brains).</p> - -<p>“Did you ever hear the name of Yule as a whaler?” he -said; and I replied I’d heard more stories about Yule and -whales and white bears and Arctic jokes and adventures from -Dundee to north of the Pole than of any other man alive -or dead. “Well,” he said, “that was my grandfather,” -and he referred me to his father up the close, to verify the -grandfather’s exploits. So if anyone who reads this wishes -yarns true and hair-curling about Greenland’s icy mountains, -etc., let him call at Tobermory, on Yule senior. No. 51, the third -close past the post office.</p> - -<p>A fair lady at Tobermory graced our vessel with a fleeting -visit. Miss Sheila Allan, of the famous line of that name. -She rowed from Aros Castle in her dinghy and sprang on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> -board, leaving her collie in charge, overhauled our strange -craft, fore and aft, sprang into the dinghy again, a mere -cockle-shell, and rowed off again half-a-mile to windward, -against a fresh breeze, as if it was the most ordinary everyday -thing for one of our ladies to do; many a fair Brunhilda -could have done the same. I did not tell my Norse friends -that she was at all exceptional, so our Norsemen have formed -a lofty idea of Scotswomen as mariners. I wished they -could have seen her, as I have, out on the Sound of Mull -in wind and rain, fair hair flying, yellow oilskins dripping, -racing her own cutter, three reefs down, through the spray -for the Tobermory Cup.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>The British fleet lay at Oban; I don’t think any -wars-man on any of the vessels would not have -changed places with one of us; for to any seaman -there is an air of romance and adventure about a whaler. -I’d have felt distinctly proud passing down their line in our -little vessel whose object and capabilities any bluejacket -could guess at—a motor, plus sails and a small but sea-going -hull, a business-like gun at bow, a crow’s nest; and -going south—that would appeal to their imagination. But -alas! at our stern hung a Union Jack made in Norway, that -a Boy Scout would jeer at. I am to blame. I’d taken it -for granted I could get a Union Jack anywhere, but the -Norse idea of a Union Jack I cannot recommend. But the -warships politely dipped to us, and the crews crowded round -their bows and we could only imagine the smiles at our -Jack. We may perhaps still manage to get one of the correct -design in the north of Ireland if we call there. In any case, -our mistake was accidental and temporary; but each of his -Majesty’s ships flew the Cross of St George with the Union -Jack device relegated to a mere canton, a deliberate violation -of the Treaty of Union, the first article of Treaty which -stipulated that the united crosses of both Scotland and -England shall be used in <i>all</i> flags both at sea and on land.</p> - -<p>We spent the Sunday afternoon as John Knox and the -reformer used to spend it. I mean we enjoyed ourselves -“out-by.” John Knox, you know, golfed on Sunday afternoons, -and ate oysters in a High Street cellar at night! -So we sailed, and then dined in the Station Hotel. My -wife and my cousin, Urmston, had come north to Oban -to avail themselves of the chance of seeing the St Ebba; -and with a light, fresh breeze and smooth water we sailed and -motored over to Duart and South Morven, and Loch Linnhe, -and at night dined on shore as stated. The engine had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> -worked perfectly; Urmston, a born mechanic and sailor, -was delighted with the whole turn-out, so it was rather a -jolly dinner and there were many yarns.</p> - -<p>One of the subjects that came up was that of wives at sea. -“Ach, vifes at sea’s no good,” said Henriksen emphatically, -and I was rather surprised, as I know Norwegian captains -often take their wives to sea, but Henriksen has been, as a -boy and mate, a looker-on, and has seen trouble come from it.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” he continued, “alvays bad veather and -trouble ven veemen’s on board. I tell you vonce a veeman -come on board—I laff! We vas in a barque and the -captain’s vife she owned it—she vas very reech, and had -tree sheeps. She vas married tree times—the captain tell -me dis, he vas her tird husband.” Henriksen was serving -his time on this barque as all Norsemen do, on sailing-ships -before the mast. At Boulogne they lay one night alongside -the slip, and all but he had gone on shore to the cafés. He -being youngest had to do watchman, and brewed himself -coffee in the galley and then dozed, possibly slept for “five -minutes or maybe two hours,” he said. “I do not know, -and ven I vakes up I looks out and dere is a light in cabin -so I goes quiet and looks down the skylight and der vas a -great veemen! with luggage on de floor beside her.”</p> - -<p>Down to the cabin went Henriksen and addressed her. -“Who is you, vat you come here for without leave?” To -which she replied: “I am the captain’s wife.” But the boy -would not be bluffed. “That is not true,” he cried, “go -away at once, you’se bad veemen, you comes here to steal, -be off wid you before I gets the crew or the captain comes.”</p> - -<p>And she looked round her and rose and reached to a young -woman’s photo on the wall and held it to Henriksen and he -gazed and saw the truth; this elderly spacious person still -preserved some faint resemblance to the buxom girl in the -faded photograph. So Henriksen made his bow—you know -how the Norse bow, straight from the hips, and apologised -and asked forgiveness, which she very graciously extended -to him, saying: “You very good boy, you look after ship -well.” So he chatted away pleasantly, and got her coffee -and food and retired again to the galley, and when he was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> -sound asleep again, the captain came from the town, jumped -down on deck and came growling to the galley: “Hillo, -you’re a nice watchman! asleep in the galley, when you -should be on deck.” “Well, captain,” said the boy, “I -work all day hard, and all night I vatch and den comes -your vife and I cooks for her long times, what you -expect?”</p> - -<p>“My wife,” whispered the captain anxiously. “Evan, -here’s something for you, put that in your pocket and keep -it, and promise not to say a word about my coming aboard.”</p> - -<p>Henriksen promised, and the captain turned and stole -away along the dark quay.</p> - -<p>In the morning a wire came to the first mate—I think it was -supposed to be from Antwerp—saying the captain was on his -way home to meet his wife in Norway, on which the fond -creature said she would at once return home to meet her good -man, and she went. An hour later the captain appeared on -board, and they made sail for Valparaiso.</p> - -<p>My wife said: “That’s a most excellent story, Captain -Henriksen,” at which he protested solemnly: “No, no, dat -is no <i>story</i>, dat is quite true, I tells you.” And we had to -explain the differences in our language between the “story,” -an incident, and the “story,” an untruth; if you try, you -will find it is rather difficult to do this. The language -question again!—how often it crops up. I wish I could -speak Norsk properly; I have to worry along with English. -I was told to-day I can speak that difficult language very -well. We had all been speaking to the lighthouse service -captain for quite a long time when he complimented Henriksen -on his English and flatteringly told me I spoke it even -better, and I explained I’d made a study of it for about half-a-century, -and in fact had the honour of lisping my first words -in his own part of the country.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus14"> -<img src="images/illus14.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The “St. Ebba,” Motor Whaler, in Oban</span></p> -<p class="caption">Note the whale gun and harpoon at the bow and the oil boilers amidships.</p> -</div> - -<p>That incident was slightly amusing: but halting English -nearly got our Swedish motor inspector, whom we met at -Tobermory, into serious trouble. He is such a nice-looking -fellow, too, I felt quite sorry. He waited there for our -arrival peacefully for three days at the Mishnish Hotel, -putting in the time sketching. One day he made a drawing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span> -of Aros Castle, the Allans’ mansion, and as he lay in the grass -and ferns under the birches his thoughts went back to his -professional work and he drew plans and symbols, and a -native came dandering along, full of the kindly interest the -west highlander takes in the stranger (I like it myself, -but some people call it mere curiosity), and he ventured: -“You will shust pe arrived, maybe by the Lochinvar? -Aye, aye, shust so, she’s a wonderful boat. Aye, you will be -from Glasgie? That’s a fine toon Glasgie. I wass there -for the Exheebition. Och, no, you will not be from Glasgie. -From Sweden! Do you tell me so? ma Cot! that’s a long -way. I see, I see, so you will be a foreigner. Weel, weel, I -will wish you a coot day,” and he went. But he had seen -the symbols, and he knew the Fleet was at Oban, and he had -been reading the papers about invasions, so when he met the -policeman, who pays a visit to Tobermory once a year to -sign his name, he said to him that “there wass a lad at Aros, -in the ‘furrns,’ drawin’ plans and things—<i>would he be a -spy</i>?” After due consideration the policeman decided to -walk round the bay. It is not very far round the bay, not -far for anyone but Tobermory natives, who are restful people. -I once saw them watching Aros Castle on fire with their -hands in their pockets, and it never occurred to them to trot -round the half-mile to help.</p> - -<p>Well, the policeman did not go quite round the bay, for he -met the young man coming back and he said: “It’s a fine -day, Mister, for the time of year, and you will haff been -drawing?”—and asked very politely if he might see the -sketches; in the West we are very polite, for the climate is so -mild. And as the young Swede modestly refused to exhibit, -MacFarlane accompanied the visitor rather silently till they -came to the famous Mishnish (famous for drams since the -Flood), and then the young Swede began to see the humour -of the situation, and allowed MacFarlane to examine his -baggage, and got him at last to understand, with great difficulty, -for he only spoke very little English, that he was waiting -for a Diesel engine motor-whaler called the St Ebba, and -mentioned this writer’s name, which made it all right with -MacFarlane. And the hotelkeeper, and one or two friends<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span> -of the policeman and the hotel proprietor came, and they -had quite a pleasant afternoon and evening: for as the sun -shines there are soft drinks to be drunk and tales to be told -in the Mishnish Hotel in Tobermory’s sheltered bay any day -of the year round.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing9.jpg" width="500" height="325" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/music2.jpg" width="700" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“It was a’ for our richtfu’ King</div> - <div class="verse indent2">We left fair Scotland’s strand,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">It was a’ for our richtfu’ King,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">We first saw Irish land, my dear,</div> - <div class="verse indent6">We first saw Irish land.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Then right he turned and round about</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Upon the Irish shore</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He gave his bridle rein a shake</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With ‘Adieu for ever more, my dear,’</div> - <div class="verse indent6">With ‘Adieu for ever more.’”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>No one knows who wrote these words—some mournful -Jacobite, perhaps, who felt as the author does; -for though the night is perfect, with the golden -harvest moon reflected in a sea like glass, we cannot but feel -a little sentimental on turning our backs on relatives and -on our dear West Highland strand (especially during the -shooting season).</p> - -<p>The tune fits the words, does it not? I think it is a -recollection of an old sea-chantey I once heard—coming back -to mind to suit the words, and what might seem to be the -mournful cadence of our Diesel engine and the sighing of the -glassy water as we surge gently across the swell. I wrote -before of the musical notes of our engine. I do not think my -cousin Urmston or Henriksen notice it much to-night, for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> -they are too absorbed in whale talk. My cousin left desk, -and shoots, and engagements, to come with us to the Irish -shore to see us as far as Belfast, and to go over our business -papers, but pipes and whale talk and more pipes and more -whale talk, and minute examination of the engines, seem more -to their taste at the moment than business papers by lamplight. -Belfast docks will be more the place for business than -the Sound of Islay, with Jura and the day fading and a night -full of the yellow light of the harvest moon. A joyous change -for the family lawyer, is it not—from the city to the coast he -dreams of in town—from the busy office to the quiet of the -Highlands and islands—from affairs of companies to the -picking up of the lights on Islay and the Mull of Cantire? -We hoped for his sake to see a killer at least, or something to -fire one of the guns at—several finners have been seen lately -on the Scottish coast. But as the morning dawned it grew -rough with thick haze, and it was all we could do to pick up -Black Ness and then the entrance to Belfast Lough. We are -not proud, so we took a pilot and felt our minds at rest as we -steered up the three miles of buoys which mark the channel -almost as close as lamp-posts in a street.</p> - -<p>If you have not seen Belfast I give you my word that the -first impression is astonishing. You can hardly believe you -are not dreaming. The iron network of building leviathans -in course of construction is overpowering, enormous, so vast -is the perspective of not merely one or two great iron ghosts, -but streets of them, high as buildings in New York, one beyond -the other on either side of the river, fading into smoke -and distance, and the noise of iron hammering and banging -is universal, so all-pervading that you hear yourself speak -quite easily. We felt like a mere speck crawling up the grey -river. By-and-by we noticed little mites moving about in -these gigantic structures of iron filigree-work, high up on -stagings, or higher still on vast cranes, up in the sky; these -were men, twenty-six thousand of them in one yard alone! -We met them later, in marching order, hefty fellows, blue-eyed, -drilled Ulster Irishmen, stronger looking than Scotsmen. -Later on we saw them sign their National Covenant.</p> - -<p>These are descendants of the people who gave Scotland its<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span> -name. Few there are who know this. Men learn about the -Kings of England and of Israel, with their dates, at public -schools, but never a word are they taught of the far longer, -far more dramatic and interesting succession of Scottish kings, -previous to their succession to the English crown. Not one -in a hundred knows that the old name for Ireland was -“Scotia,” that it was not till the seventh century that the -Scots of Ireland gave their name to Alba, to the United -Scots and Picts of Britain north of Tweed, our Scotland of -to-day. But we are verging toward dangerous ground—let -us get to sea again and continue to chronicle on the rolling -deep, and let <i>Erin go bragh</i>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Erin goes fast away on our right—a violet line between -white-capped greenish waves and a grey, windy sky. We -came down Belfast Lough against dead head-wind and -proudly passed much larger sailing craft than ourselves -waiting in shelter for fair wind, and having hunted for a boat -in which to deposit our pilot! We got out to sea, set sail, and -have again become a sailing-ship with a strong breeze on our -quarter. We knocked off eleven knots an hour, leaving -tramps and such-like behind us. But what an awful appearance -we have! Four days alongside the quays in Belfast, -with coal-dust flying everywhere, have made us like a collier, -rather hard lines, considering we make no mess coaling ourselves -as others do. What a change there will be in the -amenity of seaports and all towns when oil takes the place -of coals. Imagine a clean town—Edinburgh, for example, -and the beauty of such a dream!</p> - -<p>It was the air pump and the connections between our oil -tanks that brought us into the thick of great events—into -“Ulster Day” and the signing of the National Covenant, -and a small matter (hunting for some flexible iron tubing) -brought us into the great and beautiful City Hall. I am -sure few people have heard what an exquisitely designed -building this is—indeed, what a very handsome town Belfast -is, taking it all round. And the people! how I wish my -northern countrymen knew what they were like in the mass. -How very like themselves, both men and women, but perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span> -rather bigger and stronger than the average Scot, and as -reliable-looking, and yet perhaps a little happier than we are, -even in their anxious times.</p> - -<p>I don’t think our Norse crew found Belfast altogether a bed -of roses. Some had shore leave, with five shillings each to -spend up town. Our cook, or steward, told me of their -adventures. He heard of them from the watchman, who -was made their confidant. Now they are ship’s property. -Seven of them, all young fellows, “very greenhorns,” said -the cook, washed, put on celluloid collars, brushed up, and -sallied forth at night, and they had barely got to the bridge -along Queen’s Quay when three of them had given their five -shillings to maids of Erin, fair, frail things in shawls, and the -coy creatures fled and the three came home to the ship -lamenting—so the watchman said. The others, to a certain -extent, enjoyed all the <i>tumasha</i>, and, to be sociable, bought a -penny Union Jack buttonhole, badges that almost everyone -was wearing; what they signified they don’t quite know yet. -It was jolly lucky they weren’t killed. They went up Bally -Macarack Street, in the heart of the Roman Catholic district, -and were mobbed by Nationalists, fifteen girls and -a dozen men. Happily the police arrived in time. The -tallest of our crew got a severe kick on the part he sits on, -and the smallest got a “shock,” as he said, on his eye, and -they say: “If we lies here in Belfast one years we no go shore -again! No fears; dem’s folk’s mad, dem’s crazy! What’s -all that for-dumna ‘Ulster’ dems shouts all de time?”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We are picking out our course to-night (Monday) on -the chart rather comfortably in the cabin. It is smooth and -we are in mid-Channel, in the north-west we have Holyhead -Light. We forecast a run of luck for ourselves. We’ve had -our share of head-winds and little difficulties since we left -the south of Norway, so with the compasses we mark out -six days’ run as long as to-day’s run, which will bring us -to Azores in six days, or seven days sure, if we have a little -strong fair wind—we won’t think of nasty rough weather.</p> - -<p>But “Just about here,” the compasses pause, “I was -three weeks,” said Henriksen. “That Christmas was the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span> -roughest time of my life,” he continued, puffing at his new -calabash.</p> - -<p>“We was on the Kron Prince three weeks out from Cardiff, -seven feet water in the hold and the pumps won’t work.” -They had reached the Azores and drifted back to the -Bay, then to the Irish Channel, and got shelter, I think, in -Bridgewater.</p> - -<p>“Captain and mate they’s on deck, with revolvers, but -we get ashore and run away. We was not going in that -for-dumna sink ship, I’se sure. No! tree hours at wheel was -my last watch, one hour pumping, cold, wet, then I finds in -corner of fo’c’sle three biscuits, one half-cup tea cold, dat -decides me!” “How did you get off?” I said.</p> - -<p>“With a runner—runner come alongside: we cuts square -hole under fo’c’sle head, captain and mate, they looks all -round deck, but not below bows, and we slips out, eight of -us and our bags.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps these eight were justified for the Crown Prince -got a new crew and sailed, and was never heard of again.</p> - -<p>Henriksen had three guineas sewn in the waistband of -his trousers, and a lot of sense besides for eighteen, also his -mate’s certificate, although he was only a sailor on board, and -he reflected, as he went ashore, on what he knew of runners -and their ways: how the sailor is kept by the same on the -credit of his next two or three months’ advance wage, and -then goes to sea with precious few clothes and say five -shillings to land with at the next port, and has therefore to -go to another runner until he gets another ship, and so may -be at sea two or three years with hardly the sight of pay. -So on getting ashore Henriksen made a clean bolt to the -nearest railway station, jumped into first train, taking ticket -to first station, leaving his bag with the runner, of course, -but keeping his mate’s ticket. Where did he say he got to? -I forget, somewhere near Liverpool, but five or ten miles he -did free of charge as the guard was interested in his recital.</p> - -<p>From Liverpool he booked third class to Belfast. It was -a wild crossing and he met, strangely enough, another runaway, -an Englishman, and isn’t this the making of a story? -They befriended a would-be second-class passenger and his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span> -wife, who were obliged, by overcrowding, to go steerage, and -both these people were helplessly sea-sick, and their poor -children just rolled about the floor till the two young seamen -took care of them, and held them in their arms all night. -The father pressed a whole £1 note on Henriksen, which -he refused, as he had plenty of his £3 remaining, but -the Englishman was stony, and he was persuaded to take -ten shillings, and the parents gave each of them their address.</p> - -<p>Afterwards Henriksen called on them—and such a fine -house it was! Henriksen reflects now he might have called -on these old friends in Belfast this journey. “They must -be old people now. Next time I come to Belfast,” he says, -“I calls—maybe they’s in life.”</p> - -<p>At Belfast he went on a local tramp, then got berth as -second mate, and had twelve months at sea without a day -ashore. For it was to Bahia that he went, where you anchor -almost out of sight of land. For I forget how many weeks -he lay at anchor, then sailed to another port, twelve men -in the fo’c’sle, seven with monkeys, the rest with parrots, -fancy the racket! then to Mobile Bay and then back to -Troon, “two houses and a wall,” as he describes our charming -little Scottish seaport, then home to Norway. That is -all you sometimes see of foreign parts if you go down to -the sea in ships. Nine months at sea with one night ashore -is the writer’s longest spell of salt water, but Henriksen -tells me he knows of a man being twenty-seven months at -sea without getting on shore. I think I must make a -special book of Henriksen’s adventures. As told to me -they are interesting, but our surroundings count for a good -deal: over a chart in the little lamplit cabin or on our -quarter-deck (three steps and overboard), the moon overhead, -and our sails looking dark and large, and our Æolian -engine singing its steadfast song.</p> - -<p>Though only a little south of Ireland, we have the real -swell of deep sea; rolling low hills that leave no level horizon -to us, for we are so close to the sea-surface, long, gentle undulations -that suggest a perfect golf-course for elderly people.</p> - -<p>We have a steady air from the north-east like the Trades. -Possibly we may never have to shift a sail till we reach<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span> -the Azores, and certainly to-day there was that in the light -at midday, the sharp shadows on faces as we took the sun’s -altitude, that, even with a pigeon-grey sky, reminded me of -southern light that I have not seen or felt for several years, -and we did things with our coats off, and brought our rifles -on deck for an overhaul.</p> - -<p>Our Norwegian heavy bores for sea-elephants cost £3, -and as far as I can see are extremely accurate at the -short range. I have tried them at one hundred and one -hundred and thirty yards and they do not burst. It will -be interesting to compare the effect of my higher velocity -sporting mauser, a 375, with their work. Possibly the -larger bullet of the Norse rifle, about 500, may be more -useful for this huge animal at close range. The Norsemen -are sure of this, but I back the bullet with the higher -velocity every time.</p> - -<p>There is a gale this evening and we are running with -reefed foresail.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>It is a strong N.E. gale, but “Muckle word pass ower,” -as the children were taught by a certain dominie in -the north to repeat when they came to a word beyond -his knowledge, so “Muckle gale and pass ower,” we say, and -try not to think of it. Why dwell on the unpleasing side -of the sea. It is beastly all the same, and trying to one’s -nerve.</p> - -<p>We have no canvas on her now, just tumble along before -the wind, with bare poles, through the grey seas, the wind -passing through to our bones, wet with spray, weary with the -motion. Henriksen says: “To-morrow ve vill be into the -feene vedder.” I don’t know which is best, to be alongside -an optimist or a pessimist in a gale at sea. An old skipper -used to murmur to me in evil, dangerous times: “Hoot-toots, -we’ll be oot o’ this intil a waur” and I begin to think this -grim pessimism was really more comforting than Henriksen’s -sanguine forecast of fine weather and blue seas which, I think, -are far off.</p> - -<p>All the same I notice to-day that as we bury our stem -and the water roars over our deck, the little light which -comes through the seas into our round bowley aft has a -watery tint of blue instead of the green it had yesterday. -That is, I take it, because we are out into the deep sounding -beyond eighty and two hundred fathoms that encircle our -shores past the great Sole bank, on the S.W. of England and -Ireland, and now have somewhere about two thousand fathoms -beneath us. We thought of heaving to last night and had -a trysail ready for the aftermast. It was very black and -awesome, but we managed to hold on our course. It is -rather risky heaving round head to wind after you have run -till the sea is dangerous. If you do not put down the wheel -at the right moment you have a chance of getting one of -these black seas and their huge white crests full on your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> -beam or bridge and perhaps becoming a wreck in a second. -It was as if the lights of cities at night showed every instant -round the low horizon every now and then, to be blotted out -by black hills, the light of the phosphorescent white ridges -of foam.</p> - -<p>Seizing what we think is a lull between big waves we -scramble across the wet deck forward to our small mess-room, -pause as we hang on and swing, till the iron door is -almost upright and dive in. The door shuts with a clang.... -How the wind whistles as the new-comer opens the little -round-topped iron door! But once inside there is peace -and warmth and lamplight and steamy air from the cooking -stove, and we have sardines and bread and margarine for -dinner, for it’s too rough for cooking more than tea. Then -out into the black, wet, slippery deck again. Phew! How -it blows, and how difficult it is to see now! Then to the -bridge again and the St Ebba beneath us, a patch of black -with two lights like eyes shining aft from the galley, a mass -of dark against the wicked white of the surf which we tear -in the dark sea—a black cat on a white bearskin, in a half-lit -room. I suggest to the styrman (Norse for first mate) -and captain as we shiver (I do at least) on the bridge that a -Rolls Royce motor-car on a hard, dry road isn’t so bad, and -they shout with derision. “No! No!” the St Ebba for -them, driving before a gale. I wonder if they really mean it! -Anyway I must pretend that I like it too.</p> - -<p>A chunk of green sea came over our poop and bridge last -night, banged on our iron cabin door which faces astern -with a thunderous shock and swept over the bows. Some -went over the bridge, and a lot came down to the cabin, -enough to be unpleasant. Out came styrman like a rabbit -from his bunk, and I’m pretty sure both the writer and -captain’s colour was not suggestive of pure joy. In a brace -of shakes, after this big wave broke over us last night, -Henriksen was at the wheel and the engine going again—the -engineer had stopped it for some reason, perhaps to let -our decks clear off the sea. Then sacks with waste and oil -were rigged out on either bow, and we continued, the seas -breaking angrily but out of reach of us. So we drove through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span> -the night and are satisfied, and won’t do it again. We did -ninety miles in the night with practically only two seas -aboard, and we do not believe there’s a boat floating of -our size or bigger that would do the same, and we forecast -our style of stern and lines under water becoming the -fashion.</p> - -<p>This morning we have a bit of foresail up again and -an experimental jib as -storm trysail on our -mainmast, and it seems -just to be right.<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> -<img src="images/drawing10.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I thought I had -missed sport by writing -these notes and not -turning out early, for -when I did put up my -head into the wind and -spray, the mate was -silhouetted on the bow, -harpoon in hand, with -figures grouped round -him, holding lines, in -attitudes of intense -expectancy, and there -were dolphins springing -alongside. But it was -too rough. Several -lunges were made by various members of the crew with our -little hand harpoon and its long spruce shaft, but they were -misses all. The sun shone about midday, a small incident, -but after three days’ storm and heavy seas it was a cheering -sight, and the sea became blue, but always too rough to get -a harpoon into the dolphins. They appeared again at night. -The sea was full of phosphorus, so we could see their brilliant -tracks shooting round backwards and forwards like the -trail of rockets. Though I have been amongst hundreds of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span> -whales at different times and seasons I have never had the -luck to see one going through a phosphorescent sea; but -Henriksen tells me a year or two ago, off Korea, he tried to -harpoon one in the dark, aiming at the glare as it passed -alongside. He could scarcely see the gun and fired a bit -too far back, I think at the light, instead of ahead of it, and -missed and saw the yellow blaze of light under water as the -shell on the point of the harpoon exploded. “Ask me if -that whale went fast,” he said.</p> - -<p>It is Sunday, the 8th October, an idyllic Sunday; there’s -a grand, blue, rippling swell, and enough air to keep our sails -spread, so we roll gently along, a block creaking occasionally -and our little engine throbbing beautifully. But there is -a slight feeling of annoyance aft, and it’s easily understood. -Our skipper has his idea of what Sunday at sea should be -when there’s no whaling or hard sailing to attend to, and -I agree with him. He thinks all clothes-washing and drying -blankets and mattresses should be done on Saturday, Sunday -should show clear decks, shaved chins and, if possible, a change -of clothes and mind. But most of our crew apparently have -been brought up to the common idea of Sunday as washing-day -and have hung up shirts and clothes of all kinds everywhere. -Henriksen endures the un-Sundaylike display but -vows “never again.” Next Sunday we will be neat and -clear, or all hands will be working double tide at flensing or -hunting whales—we shall see!</p> - -<p>Meantime we have had days of quiet ship work, the sea -getting more blue each day, and winter clothes shedding. -On this account we held a <i>shoppie</i> on Friday—got out the -captain’s slop chest from the hold. This is an old sailing-ship -custom. Six of us carried it aft to quarter-deck, unlocked -it and took all the contents into the little cabin, and -wasn’t it a well-stocked shop—jerseys, trousers, boots in -cardboard boxes, caps, shirts, woollen gloves for the cold -northern seas, and white and blue dungaree suits for -tropics, and scented soap! It was new for me to see scented -soap on such a business. Henriksen and the first mate -have a busy afternoon with their coats off and pipes going, -looking up prices and calculating the ten per cent. profit—a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span> -small profit to cover risks—and good articles. I’ve seen -fifty per cent. made off very inferior goods. And the crew -come down one by one and buy what they need or can -afford, and “ask me” if the atmosphere doesn’t get thick -towards lamplight time.</p> - -<p>There was not much sale in the way of winter kit. The -heaps of mits and thick woollen socks will not be appreciated -till St Ebba gets far south towards the ice edge.</p> - -<p>With our present crew of Norsemen it is not so easy to get -interested in them, individually, as with sailors of our own -race; still the few words we have of each other’s language, -eked out with signs and drawings, go far—drawings especially; -indeed, from the captain downwards, painting excites -far more intelligent interest among our crowd than they -would with my own countrymen. Our old Dundonian -whalers were neither very musical nor artistic. Here the -skipper plays Grieg, and has a lively interest in every æsthetic -aspect and every change of form and colour in waves and -sky, and has actually taken up water-colours and playing on -my bagpipe practice chanter, but I fear that for neither of -these will he be able to spare time, for a skipper is, or should -be, practically on duty all the time. But his first attempt at -water-colours—a blue sea and white breakers under a blue -sky—was not half bad. The blue sea was there all right, but -the rhythm of the waves and the half tints, who can do them -justice?—Wyllie, to a certain extent, but I cannot remember -anyone else, unless Colin Hunter, and he is dead.</p> - -<p>It is a real day of rest, contemplation and dreaming. -Our greatest effort has been to rig a line for dolphins. Both -the trolling tackles we had out were carried away last night, -so I unearthed a tunny hook I had fastened to a wire rope -with a strip of aluminium to act as spoon bait. Now that is -trolling astern for the benefit of any wandering albicore, -tunny, bonita dolphin or such-like. I expect the crack of -the breaking fir stem boom, from which the line trails, will -wake us from our dreams.</p> - -<p>You may dream on board a whaler! dream at the wheel on -such a day as this, or in the crow’s nest, or sitting on one of -the boats, for you are so cut off from the world of people<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span> -who stop dreams—nurses, mothers, policemen and preachers. -Alas, when you think of it, what genius has perhaps been -nipped in the bud by the reprehensible habit of such well-meaning -people. Where would art, science and literature be -to-day, we reflect, had dreaming not been discouraged by -those who took charge of our tender days. Mercifully, with -the advance of years, some of us learn to dodge these interruptions -by going to sea, perhaps—where one may dream or -follow out a train of thought, as it were, on the sly. For -dreaming is following out a train of thought. Newton -dreamed when he saw the apple fall. Mercifully he had got -beyond the nursery governess stage, or his line of thought -would have been nipped with: “Johnny, do wake up and -come along now, don’t dawdle there, what are you dreaming -about?” Watt managed, on one occasion, to dream on the -sly and watched a boiling kettle, and was it not either an -Angle or a Saxon chief who dreamed and let cakes burn and -so united the tribes of Southern Britain? Moral, when a -small boy dreams over dessert you may morally rap him over -the knuckles and he will eat his dessert, but you may have -spoiled the greatest mathematical genius of our age.</p> - -<p>So we muse or dream on ocean’s bosom, and read a little of -monastic times, since we are on the St Ebba, and disagree -languidly with Froude’s conclusions on Erasmus and Luther, -and occasionally we cast an eye round the empty horizon. -When suddenly, from starboard, come leaping dolphins, -breaking the smooth monotony of the blue water. They -sweep to our bows, we dive from bridge to bow, seize the hand -harpoon, and all our little community wakens up and collects -on our bows. Here they come to starboard! and we get all -clear for a lunge at one—no easy matter as our sails are -down, and we are doing eight knots by motor and roll heavily. -Swish, swish—two leap near our bows and the writer nearly -goes overboard in an effort to drive the young pine-tree and -harpoon home, but it misses by an inch and the frightened -dolphins dash astern and come up to port bow as if we were -stationary, and so we pass the harpoon over to Henriksen. -He waits his chance and drives home a very clever thrust -and away goes the line and Henriksen very nearly after it,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span> -and all hands get on to the rope, spring at it like ferrets at -a rabbit, active as cats, a heap of them tumbling aft along -bulwarks till amidships somehow or other the kicking dolphin -is lugged over the side amongst the struggling young sailors, -and one with an axe chops its tail quiet, and in a second or -two our first cetacean, the destroyer of lovely flying-fish, -breathes no more.</p> - -<p>I should think it must weigh about two hundred pounds. -Henriksen takes the opportunity to demonstrate on a small -scale the process of flensing the blubber according to precedent, -and his own plan, so that some of our hands, new to -whaling, may know what is wanted when we get hold of -sperm or the large finner whales. It is rather like a demonstration -by a surgeon to students, so rapid, but more of this -method anon.</p> - -<p>Yes, we find remains of exquisite flying-fish inside the -mammal, and yet none of us have seen flying-fish about here; -are there then flying-fish here, but deep in the sea, or has the -dolphin brought these from farther south?</p> - -<p>Alas! that the deck of the St Ebba should be stained with -gore. The best of the meat we have cut off, two long strips -down the back, perhaps thirty pounds each, and into vinegar -and water they go, enough fresh meat for all hands for several -days, and the oil of the spec or blubber will probably amount -to a gallon—one gallon clear profit for our shareholder—one -little drop of the vast ocean of whale oil we hope to collect -some day for the furtherance of British industries, and the -manufacture of margarine and olive oil in Paris, and the -hundred and one other purposes for which whale oil is used.</p> - -<p>We have not exactly broken the Sabbath, for though -we are a British ship the crew is Norse and the Norwegian -Sunday begins on Saturday afternoon and ends at two on -Sunday.</p> - -<p>Henriksen is rather pleased that we have a young crew for -our new kind of ship and methods, as older men would be -more difficult to train to our special needs.</p> - -<p>We see a large steamer, French, Italian or Spanish, in tow -of a Liverpool tug, grey-black funnel—white ship. We have -seen only four craft since we left Belfast.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span></p> - -<p><i>P.S.</i>—All hands have dolphin steak with fried onions for -supper. It is not nearly so good as whale meat, but better -than cormorant by miles—in fact, is quite palatable.</p> - -<p>Who said that the romance of the sea has gone, that -steam has driven it away? But that is not true; it is just -as blue and full of fresh life and romance for all of us as it -ever was. The new land or new port is just as new to me as -it was to Romans or Carthaginians.</p> - -<p>With every new type of vessel there comes a fresh aspect -of the romance of the sea.</p> - -<p>Our new type will revive or open a new chapter of sea life. -No more black coal and smoke, but a clean, silent engine, -petroleum plus sails; sails must come back; look at our run -down here, half sails, half motor; the modern steam-whaler -could not have done it, even the old sailing flyers could not -either.</p> - -<p>I think we could have converted any disbeliever in the -romance of the sea if they’d have come aboard last night, -when Henriksen and I had our southern charts out, studying -the lonely islands away down there.</p> - -<p>Visiting the islands of the world alone would fill books of -sea romance; think of them, the thousands there are, some -of them never visited. Those in the south of the Antarctic -edge are described in the Admiralty books we have in such -terse, dry words as these: “Of no interest geographically”; -“Dangerous”; “Only of interest to sealers”! “Provisions -for ship-wrecked crews were deposited by H.M. (? ship) in the -year ⸺” before the Flood! And they say: “There are only -kergulen cabbages—a red root like a carrot” on one, and wild -pigs on another; and on another the beach is covered with -innumerable sea-elephants and penguins. Ghost of Robinson -Crusoe, what else can a man want? Why, even these -islands, the Azores, so close to home, how the prospect of -seeing them fills us with eagerness! What will the hills be -like, and the people, and the fruit, and the wine, and birds, -and flowers, and fish! We long to see them with the utmost -impatience now that only a narrow strip of rough blue sea -lies between us and them, to-night we may fetch its lights—to-morrow -we will see the land in full sun for a certainty.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>A new land, new to us, only a faint tint above the -horizon, but land it is, we know; merely an outline -of faint soft blue-grey mountains over the sparkling -morning sea.</p> - -<p>All night we waited and watched for its lights, but not -till daylight did we have the pleasure of seeing “land”! -Land rising out of the waters after even a week at sea is -very gratifying, like food after hunger, like health after -illness.</p> - -<p>We have made a good land fall—we find ourselves heading -straight to the centre of San Miguel, the largest island of the -Azores group, within a few yards of the point we aimed at -from Belfast; thanks to three skilled navigators, for we -would have passed the islands miles to W. if we had not -corrected compass by sun bearings, a procedure which -demands very scientific knowledge of navigation.</p> - -<p>So it is a case of a shave to-day, and getting out thin land -clothing, with an occasional turn on deck between the -operations to gloat on the blue hazy mountains.</p> - -<p>We must bring a harpoon or two on deck to show our real -character, for our queer craft, with its three guns forward, -might make the Portuguese wonder what our intentions -might be, especially as our full papers are being mailed out -to Cape Town, and we must try to avoid any more red tape -entanglements.</p> - -<p>Gradually the hazy land is lit by the rising sun; some -rays penetrate the veil of clouds that hangs over the mountains. -We see greenish tints and white specks, and with the -glasses make out that these are houses, apparently farms -with a light and dark green tartan of fields and hedges round -them.</p> - -<p>Above the little fields are peaks with scrub or trees up to -the clouds, below the cultivated land there is a steep coast<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> -like North Devon, covered with shrubs and cliffs, on which -the sea sends up white shoots of foam.</p> - -<p>As the sun rises the horizon becomes quickly blue—southern -blue, but towards the land the clouds still keep the -light subdued over sea, hills, glens, and peaks. The sea has -awakened but the land seems still to sleep. Dolphins come -from seaward and welcome us, and alas, one poor fellow goes -away blazed with a harpoon mark; he was very nearly becoming -food for the poor human creatures on board St Ebba, -but the harpoon drew!</p> - -<p>This island, St Michael or San Miguel, is undoubtedly like -Madeira, without quite such extremely rugged peaks.</p> - -<p>We plan staying one day in port to overhaul the engine, -and there to get a large-sized chart and local information -about whales, then to patrol round the islands for a week, -and, if whales are here, perhaps longer. If not, we go to -Madeira, thence southwards with the advancing season.</p> - -<p>How exquisite is the colouring of the white and pink houses -against the green and violet of the hills. Now the sun is in -full blaze and the sea intensely blue. We drop sail and fly a -little white flag, with blue square in centre for a pilot, and -swing in from the south to Ponta Delgada, and with the glass -make out a pilot’s flag and a six-oared grey pilot boat coming -towards us over the little blue waves. The light grey long-boat -swings alongside; the crew are in pale blue uniforms, -with dark blue berries, their faces brown or sallow, eyes, -hair, and moustaches black as coal.</p> - -<p>We got a slight shake after the pilot came aboard, we -had stopped our engine for him to come alongside, and in -trying to start again found it would not work. However, -fifteen minutes of the little steam-engine we rigged up in -Belfast brought up enough air pressure to start them. In -the seven days’ run from Belfast some fouling must have -collected somewhere, possibly in the cylinders. The interval -I put in usefully, talking to the pilot by means of some half-a-dozen -words of Spanish and Portuguese and a good many -English, plus sketch-book and pencil. With the last I find, -after years of practice, a great deal can be expressed—half-a-dozen -strokes gave an idea of the lie of the islands, and a dot<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> -or two from the pilot showed where he knew whales are -occasionally being killed by local shores’ boats, so we feel -that at last we are actually on fishing ground. His pilotage -was very simple—he merely guided us to buoys, to which -we made fast inside the breakwater.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Ponta del Gada San Miguel Azores</span></h3> - -<p>I have read about and seen many places generally recognised -as being of a singular beauty and interest, but -never of this jewel of a sea town. For an artist it is a dream -of delight of the most delicate colours reflected in a sunny -sea. The houses are such as one may see in Spain or Italy, -white, or of all the lighter variations of shades of pinks, white, -pale greens and cinnamons, and they are built up to the -water’s edge with only a margin of black volcanic rock -showing between them and the sea. Most of them have their -backs to the sea and have picturesque balconies and landing -slips, but in the centre facing the harbour there is an open -plaza with a church and tall square tower, and at its foot -bosky round trees, dark green against the white walls, all -reflected at the water’s edge.</p> - -<p>After being visited by port officials, doctors and Customs -officer we went to the plaza in our boat, and a Captain -Pickford, of a neighbouring vessel, who kindly had come on -board to leave his card, as it were, said, as we swung into a -gap in the white sea wall into a small inner harbour: “This -is rather a pretty bit we are coming to”—and I looked, and -my breath almost went with the unexpected beauty. The -dock or basin we swung into in our boat is built of black -stone whitewashed to the water’s edge, with two flights of -steps for people to land by. It is only about ninety yards -square—houses of a slightly Venetian style on the land side -rise from a double arcade, one arcade rising from the water -with another inside it at a higher level, windows look out -from the shaded inner arcade, white pillars of the arcades -and arches support a house faced with blue tiles, with pointed -windows and adjoining houses of pale pink and yellow tints. -In the deep shadows of the alcoves and in the sun on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span> -steps there were figures, men, women, and boys, mostly -resting, some in brilliant colours, some in sombre tints; -and these and white boats at their moorings were reflected -in the waving dark ripples of the basin. For an artist I -would say this hundred yards of light and shade and colour -is worth all Venice.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the colour of the light is the charm of the Azores; -it is that Gulf Stream rich, colourful light that to me seems -to increase south-westerly as you follow it, say from the west -of Kirkcudbright to Spain, and westwards, till you come -to the Saragossa Sea—a quality in the atmosphere that -makes the night here redundant with colour and the day -superlative.</p> - -<p>Why do you not see quite such soft richness of colour in -the air farther east? There is greater velvetyness of colour -here in the Azores than in Madeira, or the west of Spain, -or anywhere in the Mediterranean, or the Far East.</p> - -<p>I could sit here for weeks, day and night, watching the -changing effects, the queer parrot-coloured weathered boats, -with their furled-up white cotton sails coming alongside the -steps; the steps are greenish black volcanic stone, whitewashed, -and the stone shows here and there, and the white -is of infinite variety of tints and the sunlight is so soft and -mellow that patches of colour, say a man’s pink shirt, or a -patch of emerald-green cloth, catch the eye with their soft -intensity and your eye goes back and forwards revelling in -the pleasure of the soft clash of battling colour, and tints.</p> - -<p>The boats that come in from the blue are vivid in colouring, -brilliant emerald, yellow, and scarlet, with thick white cotton -sails. The largest are three-masted feluccas, long and -narrow, with sails like swallows’ wings. Each has a crew -of at least eleven men and boys, with brown faces and black -hair and beards. They go bare-footed, and wear a peaked -pointed knitted cap exactly the same as we have in the Fair -Isle off Shetland; and each figure is a joy for ever of sun-bitten, -faded-coloured garments of many colours. Then -think of these figures in the blue night moving noiselessly -with bare feet, unloading short yellow planks for pineapple -boxes in half electric, half moonlight, the velvety shadows<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> -of the tropics and all the vivid colours of the day still distinct, -but softened down to a mothlike texture, and the blue tiles on -the house above the arches glittering in the moon’s rays.</p> - -<p>If you add to these sensations of colour, and the perfect -stillness, the scent of pinewood planks and the perfume of -pineapples you have an air to linger over, a delicious -intoxication.</p> - -<p>Both the people of Ponta Delgada and the town itself -are very clean. Living in the Portuguese Hotel costs five -shillings per day, with extremely good feeding—beef from oxen -on the hills fed on wild geraniums, heath, and hydrangeas, -and fish of many kinds.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing11.jpg" width="500" height="475" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I tried my trammel net for fish alongside in the bay. I -set it with the second mate’s help; it is forty fathoms -in length, and by midday -there was quite a -good catch of many-coloured -bream, and -those exquisite silvery -fish, about the size and -shape of a saucer, that -are such excellent eating. -The trammel net -is quite new here, and -is new to my Norwegian -companions and to the -natives. I find it of much -use on our Berwickshire -coast for supplying the house with fish. It consists of a wall, -as it were, of fine net hung between two nets of very large -mesh; with corks on top and leads below. It can be set either -standing on the bottom or hanging from the surface—the -fish swim against it, make a bag of the fine net through a -mesh of either of the big nets, and in this pocket they stay -till you overhaul your net, possibly once a day.</p> - -<p>Here we found a worm like one leg of a star-fish made such -havoc with our captive fish in the net that we had to overhaul -it every four hours or so. On the second evening I -got three splendid fish, like salmon, of about six pounds each,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span> -with large silvery scales and small heads—cavallas, I hear -them called.</p> - -<p>Whatever their name may be, of one thing I am certain, -they make splendid eating, and taste like small mahseer—of -course everyone knows their taste!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> -<img src="images/drawing12.jpg" width="300" height="125" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I rigged up a bamboo rod, using cast of Loch Leven -flies, with the wings cut off, with small pieces of sardine for -bait. We made -quite good baskets -of young bonita, -and tunny, and -sardines: tunny fry, -of course; a two-year-old -tunny -would snap strong salmon gut and a full-grown tunny takes -a rope as thick as a stylo pen to pull it in; and lots of -time. You can even take them on a tarpon line if you -think life is too long.</p> - -<p>A thing I could not understand about this small-game -hunting was the way certain silvery fish eluded our efforts -to catch them. Whilst other fish ate the finely chopped -sardine meat we threw over, and young mackerel and -herring, etc., calmly took our hooks baited with pieces of -sardine, these flat silvery fish like saucers on edge almost at -once grasped our idea—they eyed the bait and hook, sailed -along the gut of the dropper, examining it closely, sailed up -the gut of the cast and said: “No, no, we will take bait without -a hook, but not this.” I wonder why their perception -should be so much keener than those of the other fish; probably -none of them had ever seen a hook in their lives.</p> - -<p>But this writing about small fry is “wandering from the -point,” as the cook said to the eel; let us get back to whaling -or at least to whale-hunting.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We are off to the west end of San Miguel to go round it and -beat about the north side in search of the whales which -everyone tells us are to be found there, and the view of glens -and woods and fields bathed in sunshine under the cloud-capped -hills is very sweetly refreshing. But luxurious rolling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span> -on the blue seas and all the sweet scenery hardly take away -the unpleasing taste of last night. The engine overhaul was -only finished last night, so we intended to up anchor this -morning at daylight. Henriksen and I went ashore and -waited for the Consul about some affairs at Robert’s Café, -a large, quiet café, with wide-open doors facing the sea. As -we sat there rather silently, away in the velvety blue night, -out to sea beyond the breakwater, several rockets rose and -burst in a golden shower and we heard the continuous blast of -a ship’s horn making signals of distress. We jumped! so -did the other two or three cigarette-smoking habitués of the -café, and all got on to the sea-front, and the horn continued.</p> - -<p>“That’s a wreck,” said Henriksen.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Wat we do?” said Henriksen.</p> - -<p>I paused for half-a-second—I couldn’t advise—Henriksen -is in command.</p> - -<p>So I waited for this fraction of a second—it felt like a -whole minute.</p> - -<p>He thought and must have thought hard; for there are -many things to put together in such a moment—owners’ -risks, personal risk, honour, risk of fines or imprisonment -for leaving a Portuguese port without clearance, the chance -of saving lives; and last and least—salvage.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Henriksen, “we goes help—<i>we’s British ship!</i>” -and we turned and ran; he blew on his whistle as we ran, -and our engineer and some of the crew, who had just come -on shore and were entering a café along the promenade, -recognised the whistle, and before we were up to them they -were back into our boat and we jumped in and pulled off. -We got on board, slipped our anchor and chain, marked with -line and lifebelt for a buoy, got out side lights and started -the engine, and were round the outer end of the breakwater -within thirty minutes from the moment we left the café! -and I say we felt proud of St Ebba. The big town clock on -the church was striking eleven <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span></p> - -<p>No other vessel in harbour was under steam so we congratulated -ourselves on having a motor-engine and so being -able to get under way so rapidly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;" id="illus15"> -<img src="images/illus15.jpg" width="600" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The Arcades at the Inner Harbour, -Ponta Delgada, Azores</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus16"> -<img src="images/illus16.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Tunny on the Beach at Madeira</span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span></p> - -<p>Till we came to the end of the breakwater, the distress foghorn -signals continued. As we swung round it they ceased!</p> - -<p>Out to sea for a mile or so we steered, looking vainly for -lights to the horizon and the S.W. and saw nothing. Then -looked behind us, and there, on the most unlikely place in -the world, were the lights of a ship, on the breakwater rocks, -close to the fixed shore light!</p> - -<p>Round we turned, going our best speed, and stopped when -we had got as close as we thought advisable in the darkness, -shoved over our flat dory and rowed off with a lantern in -the bow.</p> - -<p>The steamer was rolling gently on the rocks; we rowed -close and the writer in the bow hailed them on board and -offered a tow off into the harbour. The crew we could -see, and they preserved silence for some time.</p> - -<p>“Hullo!” we shouted. “On board there, were you sending -up distress signals?” A reluctant “Yes” and “Who are -you?” from the gloom on deck, where there was a little -light that showed some Dutch courage going around. And -we answered, and asked in turn: “Where’s your skipper?”</p> - -<p>“Below with owners.”</p> - -<p>“Well, tell him to speak”—pause—then came the skipper’s -“Hullo! what do you want?”</p> - -<p>“What do we want!” we repeat very angrily. “Weren’t -you firing rockets and blowing yourself inside out with -distress signals?”</p> - -<p>No answer.</p> - -<p>“Were those distress signals?” we ask again, and there’s -a reluctant “Yes” and still another “What do you want -and who are you?”</p> - -<p>“We’re St Ebba, whaler, motor ship, two hundred horse-power, -and tons of cable, come to tow you off into harbour—half-an-hour -will do it—there’s an hour of flood yet and -you can float that distance.”</p> - -<p>A long silence.... Then: “We don’t want help—you’ve -come along for salvage.” I was dumbfounded.</p> - -<p>I need not prolong the interview; the crew said they’d -like to be taken off, they’d got their bags ready, but their -skipper wouldn’t let them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span></p> - -<p>The lamp showed her name on the stern in fresh gold -letters—the B—enido, London—we knew a little about -her, for a neighbouring steamer’s engineer had been asked on -board for engine trouble; and only a few hours before the -rockets went up he’d been speaking to us about her. He -said she was a new ship (two thousand tons?), Spanish-owned -with British captain, on her first voyage, engines -made on Continent, hull in England, and she was all -wrong.</p> - -<p>She had left the harbour only a few hours before she was -wrecked. The skipper set the course S.W., and a one-eyed -nigger at the wheel steered N.E.</p> - -<p>So we pulled back to the ship and told Henriksen of our -abortive interview and he went off again with me and two -men.</p> - -<p>It would be pretty hard to put into words our very natural -keenness and the wrath at the unaccountable apathy of the -British captain of the Spanish-owned ship. But the result -of the second interview was the same as first. They were -going to cling to the rocks—we were to mind our own -business.</p> - -<p>We thought we ought to stand by all night for the sake of -the crew on board her, for I’ve seen a vessel go on to rocks -in a similar position and lie comfortably till the tide turned, -and when the water receded heel right over and go straight -down in a second.</p> - -<p>When daylight came her stern had sunk till the deck was -level with the water and lighters were coming off to take -some of her cargo. We could have towed her off at first -without much trouble and long before her plates were -seriously damaged by the continuous rolling that followed -and the falling of the tide.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>So we left our wreck, meditating on the ways of a -wicked world, and went on our own business to hunt -round the south coast of San Miguel or St Michael -(we call the island) to the eastwards.</p> - -<p>Parts of the coast we pass are very like Madeira, which is -said to be like a crumpled piece of paper lying on the sea. -You calculate how many hours it would take to ride a mile -as the crow flies, round the bays, over the tops and down -the sides of the glens or ribieras.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing13.jpg" width="500" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>What lovely places there are to ride or drive to on the -island, between pine-trees, heath and hedges of hydrangea. -There is one road where you can drive continuously for -twenty-one miles, with hedges of hydrangeas in full bloom -on either side.</p> - -<p>Whilst we go whaling, keeping a bright look-out for sperm, -I must try to remember some of the inland charms and the -show places of the island, such as the Seven Cities, an -inexplicable name for two lakes and woods in a crater’s -valley, and the Hot Volcanic Springs in another valley which -cure all ills. I would like to remember the low two-storeyed -houses and narrow sheets of Delgada pink and white or pale<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span> -blue, and the green balconies and red-tiled eaves showing -against a narrow belt of blue sky. The rooms or cellars of -the ground floor are arched and the narrow footway is made -of a mosaic of round pebbles and quartz. There is a quiet -mystery in these narrow lanes in the hot midday, when -the green shutters are closed, and more mystery again at -night when all the blinds are open and there is lamplight -and faint music from mandoline and guitar.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing14.jpg" width="500" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>The shops of Ponta Delgada are in these arched caves -which support the dwelling-houses and balconies, and they -have no signboards! If you wish to find a shoemaker you -must walk looking into these caves. Ah yes! I’ve seen -one signboard, a scarlet swinging hand representing a lady’s -glove—now that’s worth remembering. Find that and keep -it to starboard, till right abeam, then swing to port and you -will find on your left a cave-topped restaurant, the Atlantico, -clean and cool it is, with walls painted delicate green. There -are six little tables in the front part, a desk and an arched<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span> -hatch behind, at which lolls the cook, a jovial sort of unshaved -burly pirate, with, of course, a cigarette, but veritably a <i>chef</i>. -And behind the desk, -sometimes for a moment -or two, is your host, a -highly polished Sancho -Panza; here is a jotting -of him. He speaks a little -French and gives you provender -fit for the gods. I -mention this place as cafés -are rare things here, for -the people as a rule feed -at home.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing15.jpg" width="400" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Into this haven I came -one night after the spell -at sea of salt beef and -margarine, and who can -tell the contrasting charm -of the crisp rolls and real butter and vino tinto! And -as I rested and made furtive notes of the patron there -came music from above or some room near—a piano of early -nineteenth century—or was it a spinet or guitar playing the -air of one of Moore’s melodies.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“All that’s bright must fade, the brightest still the fleetest,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">All that’s sweet was made but to be lost when sweetest.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>It is used in Indian as a bearer’s tune, and these are what -I can recall of the words from the long ago. It’s a sweet air -and surely the words are distressful enough to make a young -man sad, and an old man smile. I wonder what Portuguese -words the fair (I mean dark) beauty next the Atlantico -put to the air—I must call again. Some of these native -women are very pretty, but they are much more guarded -in the use of their eyes than are their Spanish cousins. -There’s a queer dress some of them, mostly the seniors, wear -out-of-doors; when they come out, which is very seldom. -Here is a jotting of it on the next page—it is of dark -blue cloth. The younger generation wear rather neat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span> -up-to-date French dresses, but you see very few townswomen, -they stay indoors, but many countrywomen come into the -town in the daytime and a group of them sitting with baskets -and fruit, with their vivid kerchiefs and -shawls, make a colour, light, and shade, -enough to make a painter’s heart leap -with joy.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/drawing16.jpg" width="150" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We hunted round the east end of San -Miguel and saw dolphins and some very -small whales.</p> - -<p>Then we went north and chased some -small whales, one, the biggest, almost -white. It was getting late, the sun -setting behind the cloud-capped island, -still we stood by the guns—skipper, first -mate and the writer each at his gun, -ready for a chance shot. These little -whales move too quickly out and into -the water to give a fair shot.</p> - -<p>The little excitement helped to raise our spirits from the -damping disappointment of the wreck. We now drift, and -expect the light wind to take us down to some shallower -soundings which we see on the chart several miles south and -east of San Miguel, where we hope to find whales; for they -are in the habit of frequenting the edges of “banks,” when -say two or three hundred fathoms change into a thousand -fathoms.</p> - -<p>The way of a man with a maid is perhaps a simple problem -compared to the ways of whales. Who can tell how they -guide their course, year after year, past the same points, -travelling, for instance, off the Shetlands always N.E. along, -you may say, a definite line.</p> - -<p>Our plan for next week or so is to beat up the seas north -of San Miguel, going about twelve miles, spying six miles -on either side, then taking a right-angle course for other -twelve or twenty-four miles, and so spying a large tract of -sea, and by this simple means we can keep our position -easily; and we keep the ordinary four hours’ watch; later, -when we get whales, “if” I should say, we will have all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span> -hands on deck all day, and only a watchman on deck at night -to attend to the steam cookers—but when will that be? -There is a new moon to-night and I turned some silver -leiras and a sixpence in my pocket, and will play the pipes—they -may bring us whales—bagpipes make both salmon and -pike take vigorously; I can bring witnesses to this! and -they have, beyond doubt, an effect on the wind.</p> - -<p>... An exquisite morning; at eight o’clock comfortably -hot—wind westerly and we paddle away east from San Miguel. -The island is getting low now on the horizon, but we still see -a glimpse of sun on its highest land beneath the shadow of -the great cloud cap—a glimpse of fields and faint white -specks for cottages. Yes, my first impression seems still -to hold—a land you could live and love in, with such exquisite -sunny soothing fresh air; from the little glimpse -we had of its people such ideas seem tenable.</p> - -<p>We drifted all night, with riding light, taking things easy. -Our busy time is still to come, perhaps that bank we are -drifting towards, out of reach of shore whaling-boats, may -show us some plunder or profit per cent., and if it doesn’t, -well, we have other islands to discover and circumnavigate. -“Discover” is the word I want. Once, long ago, the writer, -with others, discovered new vistas of land and mountain, -uninhabited grand mountains and glaciers in seas of table-topped -bergs of huge proportions, and undoubtedly the -sensation was not to be forgotten; but praise be, a new -land to the writer, with new people to him, and new habits -and customs, is still of the greatest fascination, even though -it has been known, like these Azores, for six centuries.</p> - -<p>I question if Columbus enjoyed the first sight of the Norse -Vinland any more than we shall enjoy the sight of the next -island we come to of this archipelago of nine islands.</p> - -<p>Fayal, for instance, and Pico—we have seen post cards of -both, and each looks perfectly charmingly fascinating. Pico -must be like Fusian, the Japanese peak.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Truly this sea, between the Azores and Africa, is well -called, by old shell-backs and South Spainers, the Ladies’ -Gulf—most days fine, and blue, and then a tempest. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span> -rocks Formigas we aim at lie between San Miguel and -Santa Maria to the south-east. But the wind now blows -hard and the sea runs too high, so we turn and pound back -to patrol the north side of San Miguel, where we will get a -little slant of shelter from the land.</p> - -<p>As the wind is westerly we cannot help recalling what we -call “our wreck” the B—enido, on the rocks of the breakwater, -for a south-westerly wind is just what is needed to -pound her into scrap iron; whereas she might have been -floating to-day in port if she had accepted our polite offer -of a tow.</p> - -<p>A turtle is all we have seen this morning, and we have -been looking out hard—one man in the crow’s nest on the -foremast, and two on the bridge, and the writer in main -rigging. The turtle was a browny yellow patch near the -surface of the deep blue sea. We turned back to try and -harpoon it, but it had gone down.</p> - -<p>Though there is little life to see in ocean to-day it is -pleasant enough sitting up in the shrouds watching the -horizon, or sometimes casting an eye down to see St Ebba -dip her bows under, and the burst of white spray that have -made us again put covers over our three guns. The movement, -sitting on the shrouds as we buck into the short sea, -is rather like a side-saddle canter on a beamy carriage horse.</p> - -<p>Before sundown, the wind keeping hard, we close in with -the land, getting into smoother water. As we go some small -whales appear, about fifteen or twenty feet long, and keep -under our bows, and nearly give us a chance of putting in a -small harpoon. They were whitish on back, with under side -dark, marked along the sides with criss-cross pattern, as if -slashes of a knife had been made through the dark skin.</p> - -<p>There is a South Atlantic whale with its back marked in -somewhat similar manner. I have seen a few in the Weddell -Sea, amongst the Antarctic ice. <i>Ziphius novæ Zealandicæ</i>,—possibly -this is the same, which would give a wide distribution.</p> - -<p>I think this is as elaborate an impression as I dare to make -without drawing on what I think it <i>might</i> be like, or <i>faking</i>, -to use the artist’s term. But they kept so much under -water, and only came to the top for such a rapid breathing-space,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span> -and it was so rough that we did not blow any powder—better -luck next time.</p> - -<p>Two and a half miles off shore we heave to, lash the wheel, -and drift slowly out to sea and close our eyes for a little, -they are sore with gazing across the blue in salt spray, -wind and glare of sun.</p> - -<p>Three little white and pink towns above a coast of cliff -are to windward, and a little more to the south-west there -is the volcanic mountain of the Seven Cities, with the lakes -in its crater, a place of great beauty but suggestive of -Martinique, especially so to-night, as there is an off-shore wind -blowing from the south and an immense pall of cloud flowing -over it and us, shadowing the little towns at its base, Ribiera -Grande, Calhetas Morro des Capellas, and our little selves -out at sea.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing17.jpg" width="500" height="125" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</h2> - -</div> - -<p>I see I have gushed a little about the blue sea in the -last chapter. This begins with storm, and gale, and -courage running into water in the grip of the -elements.</p> - -<p>Just now we are rolling in a loppy swell, high and irregular, -but there’s no wind to speak of. We are right round to W. -and S. of St Michael and we see the island faintly to north -to windward, distant some eight miles; it gives us shelter -from the remains of a north-east gale that sprang up last -night, and is only now dying away this afternoon.</p> - -<p>Between the time it rose and fell we had too much time to -think and little enough to act.</p> - -<p>As I said over the page, we were last night drifting north, -with a land wind from the island south of us; and at about -ten, I and Captain Henriksen had turned in, planning and -hoping for fine weather and whales in the morning; at one-fifteen -I heard the whistle in his cabin blown from the bridge -and guessed a change had come—the wind had gone round—he -was on deck at once, I waited a little and followed. And -sure enough, without the least warning, the wind had gone -right round to north-east and was rapidly rising, driving -us towards these beautiful villages and cliffs and bay and -volcanic mountain dead to leeward in pitch dark. Only the -village lights and a small shore light could we see, bidding -us anything but a welcome.</p> - -<p>The half-hour we spent drifting towards the cliffs, speculating -whether our so far rather tricky motor would start, -was memorable. The waves rapidly grew large and fierce -in their sweep, the phosphorescent crests in the blackness -repeated the lines of lights of the villages.</p> - -<p>... Fortunately the engine started all right, or these -notes would have to have been continued about mermaids -under the surf; I suppose all hands knew that if the engine<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span> -didn’t start we would be drowned under the steep cliffs. -They have failed us once or twice lately, but this time -Hansen did his possible, and poked about, heating the cylinders -with the hand furnace, whilst we grew a little cold drifting -to the surf and rocks. In half-an-hour he turned on the air -and they went off with a welcome clash. All hands must have -felt as I did, a great sense of relief when they started, but -there wasn’t time to speak. The writer took the wheel, -whilst Henriksen and his brother made a rapid note in the -cabin of the course and position, and we swung round into -the rapidly rising sea, heading north to get weathering to -round the mountainous west end of the island, and plugged -into wind and sea, completely smothering ourselves in foam. -The writer, struggling at the wheel on the bridge, had an -unconscious impression of the crew below busied in making -fast the main-hatch, and stowing away movable objects as -best they could in the darkness, and seas that broke over us -in wide white bursts, sometimes hiding everything from the -bridge except the upper part of our foremast, its shrouds -standing out black above the foam, through which we saw -faintly the gleam of the galley ports.</p> - -<p>What wild waves broke over us, leaving our deck full of -seething foam, with balls of light running about in the form -of lumps of phosphorus. The north-east wind and rain -tearing past was a little cold, and got down one’s back, but -every slop of sea on our faces was almost alarmingly hot -in contrast to the wind.</p> - -<p>It seems to me that a higher, quicker sea rises in these -warm latitudes than in the colder northern or southern high -latitudes, in the same time and with same force of wind. -Possibly the greater density of the cold water may account -for this.</p> - -<p>Not till four-thirty did we make our weathering, and got -clear of the island, and safe from what seemed at first to be -quite probable destruction.</p> - -<p>By six-thirty <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> we were past the light on the west end of -San Miguel, at least we believed we were—it was not visible; -being at an elevation of three hundred feet, it was, of course, -obscured by the low clouds; it is no use putting lighthouses<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span> -very high, as witness Sumburgh Head, south of Shetland; -I have been within two miles of it in clear water, and it was -invisible in the clouds above, and we only heard its bray!</p> - -<p>Then our guiding angel, to play with us, stopped our engine. -But in spite of her, we got it to go again, and crept into the -lee of San Miguel, on one or two groggy cylinders, and -rolled about in the downpour of rain, and the poor engineers -are now sweating again to get even one cylinder to take us -back to Delgada, where we will have an overhaul; and -Henriksen and I, poring over our sodden chart and the well-washed -cabin amongst sea-boots and oilskins cast aside this -morning, decide that the weather of the Azores is not suited -for whaling at this time of the year. If there were harbours -or bays or lochs such as we have in Shetland we would stick -here, but long, black nights to windward of islands, with -strong gales starting from anywhere, and only one day in -five smooth enough for even our St Ebba to whale in, “is -not good enough.”</p> - -<p>Now the engine is going; bravo, stick to it! Very, very -slowly and gingerly—with three cylinders—we crawl away -with a fearful roll to Delgada again.</p> - -<p>But the day fades before we get opposite Ponta Delgada, -a yellow sunset and rain clouds and cumuli to west, the pin-point -of light on W. of the island beginning to show, and -another pin-point on Delgada about ten miles to windward, -so we stop engines, hoist foresail, and drift, rolling very -gently and quietly, waiting for dawn, and the local pilot’s -awakening; we could go into the breakwater ourselves, but -his services are compulsory.</p> - -<p>All is very quiet and peaceful to-night, and no references -are made to last night. Sailors have nerves as well as other -folk, and I daresay all on board will take a day or two to -recover from the excitement and drenching, and the bitter, -nauseating feeling of being up against one’s end on a storm-beaten -coast in black night. I have a curious feeling that -even writing about such a recent and painful situation is -almost indelicate. To put in time Henriksen draws on his -recollection of killers or grampuses attacking a whale, and I -help it with what I have seen of a similar incident. He saw<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span> -this particular incident off Korea; I have seen several whales -being attacked both in northern and southern latitudes -amongst the Antarctic ice; in fact, I once could have jumped -on to the back of one as it rose right under our stern and gave -a huge blast or sigh, with a pack of these black-and-white -marauders surrounding it!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing18.jpg" width="500" height="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>That was a night in the Antarctic worth recalling. It was -a still day, far inside the pack ice. I remember being lost in -admiration of the quiet blue lanes of water, blue and violet, -and the many pearl-like tints of the ice, and as I looked -northerly I was astonished to see penguins jumping on to -the floe ice in a great hurry, down the sides of one of these -long lanes. Penguins do not show themselves in the water, -they suddenly leap out like trout and disappear. In this -case they remained on the ice-floes, skedaddling to their -centres in an agitated manner. Then the cause of the -emeute appeared—there were hurried blasts from two whales -coming down the lane towards us, and behind them the -splashing of a pack of black-and-white killers. On they -came, the penguins popping on to the ice edges, jumping two -or three feet clear of water, and I had time to get into our -mizen rigging and get a fine view of the first whale, a hundred -feet long, as he sailed under our keel. The next one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span> -rose to blow immediately under our counter, and anyone -standing at our wheel could have jumped on its back.</p> - -<p>I did not see the end of the chase. I expect the whales -were making a flight into tightly packed ice, under which -they could possibly go to greater distance than the killers -without breathing—at least that is our explanation of their -manœuvre.</p> - -<p>These, of course, were finner whales, we were hunting for -Right whales, the difference between the two in shape, etc., -I have referred to at the beginning of this book.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Delgada again. Here are some oddments in this chapter. -I notice I put down in my log that I suffer from sore feet—sunburned -insteps—and see Portuguese doctor, you go bare-footed -on such boats as ours in sub-tropics, and this was -the result.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing19.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I met the captain of our wreck, the B—enido, a Welshman, -in a tight place, and almost as silent on shore as on his -ship, but I felt sorry for him.</p> - -<p>The engines were thoroughly overhauled, and favourable -was the verdict of the engineers on them—which was satisfactory -for all hands; the first engineer, a Swede, would like -to take three hundred shares in our Company if he could -get them. He is so confident about our engine, possibly he -may more correctly be described as sanguine.</p> - -<p>We entertained British Consul Rumble to dinner, a return -compliment for several courtesies from him, to-night at -eight <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, and he is just departing; my feet are very sore. -We caught about fifteen good fish in the trammel-net, and a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span> -lot of sardines in a fine bag-net which I bought here for the -ship; it is spread from an iron ring and catches a few of the -more foolish fish; we also caught a ray, or skate, yesterday, -about eight feet in width, in the trammel-net. Some people -would venture to eat it, we did not, it was so black and ugly.</p> - -<p>Our engineers and officers have worked very hard all week, -overhauling the engine, taking it all to pieces, reassembling -it, and working till one o’clock each night. So we promised -them a jaunt on shore to the Seven Cities, the wonder of -the island.</p> - -<p>So this Sunday morning I saw six of our crew off for -a drive over the island, the captain on the box, a burly -figure compared to the little Portuguese driver beside him, -two engineers, two mates, and the steward, all in neat -Sunday dress, inside an open antediluvian barouche held -together with string, the springs down on the axles, and a -huge heap of ragged maize tied behind to feed the scarecrow -horses. I was to have gone with them but there was not -room, and I found it impossible to get more than the one -machine on this Sabbath morn. All the rest were laid up -or had gone off with Sunday parties. To get the one, I’d -to run from pillar to post, and use soft, persuasive language, -and listen to infinite reasons for there being no possibility -of getting a trap at all.</p> - -<p>But it was worth the trouble of hunting for the carriage -to see my six good shipmates drive off in great form with a -crack of the whip, rumbling over the cobbles, and waving -hats to the writer, who suddenly felt somewhat lonely.</p> - -<p>But to-day, Monday, there’s nothing to keep me on board, -I have done my painful duty; I have drawn in best style -our registered number on our sails above reef points, according -to act, and on tin plates for stencils to paint the same -on St Ebba’s side to port and starboard.</p> - -<p>On our fore quarter, there is now L H, which signifies -Leith, and 256, each letter the thickness—number of inches -and fraction of an inch—ordered by the Board of Trade, with -the distance between letters and figures all according to the -law of the Medes and Persians.</p> - -<p>It went decidedly against the grain to stamp our yacht-like<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span> -craft with such vulgar herring-fisher’s symbols. And -putting black paint by mistake on a white sail is enough to -make a yachtsman weep. What benefit can be derived by -anyone by the above procedure I have yet to learn.</p> - -<p>So to-day I also must go and see these Seven Cities. -No one knows the reason for the name; my messmates tell -me it is a volcanic valley almost circular, with a double lake -at the bottom, and round the lakes are smaller extinct -volcanoes covered with foliage.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing20.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Arming ourselves, therefore, with a sandwich of goodly -proportions, and a bottle of vino tinto from our friend Sancho -at the Atlantico café, we sallied forth in solitary state in an -old brougham, one artist whaler, three horses and a Portuguese -driver, and a bundle of maize straws astern, and drove -and drove, always uphill, through little whitewashed villages -and narrow lanes, between low stone walls, and crops of -Indian corn, rather dry-looking, with pumpkins and gourds -on the stubbles; past many farm carts, loaded with golden -maize or pumpkins, and with groaning, squeaking wooden -discs for wheels, till high up we came to little grass fields and -hedges of bramble, and loose stone dykes with bracken and -canes on them, and where the air was fresh as in Perthshire, -and there were very wide views of the blue Atlantic. The -drive felt long, but a sketch-book going, helped to make the -road feel tolerable, but it was quite an hour and a half before<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span> -we came to our change place, Lomba da Cruze, and mounted -a stirrupless pack-saddle on a donkey, and began an hour’s -uphill climb through cuttings of lava deposit, overhung -with brambles, many laurels, heath and ferns.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus17"> -<img src="images/illus17.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Killers Attacking a Finner Whale</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Possibly this stylo sketch in sketch-book may be a sufficient -description of the Seven Cities. Imagine two green absinth-coloured -lakes, green foliage, and a few white houses at the -bottom of a crater; with this sketch you have the scene, and -you can fancy the charm of the fresh, keen air up the mountains -combined with Sancho’s great ham sandwich and tinto, -but heaven fend the reader from the pain of a wooden saddle -on a donkey riding down such a hill again.</p> - -<p>The road home was wearisome to a degree, hundreds of -local squires or farmers, and everyone lifting hats, but why? -Who knows? The effort to respond was quite ridiculous. -Someone should invent an automatic hat-lifter for royalties, -Norwegians, and natives of the Azores. Groups of women -were on either side of the road shelling yellow maize, sitting -like Indians; and at last and at length we got into Delgada, -having had more than enough of cultivated maize lanes -and lava dykes.</p> - -<p>Then to Portuguese shipping agents and to business -accounts, not a pleasing part of whaling. It is difficult to -settle our affairs, on leaving port. For instance, the harbour -trustees, or whatever they are called here, wanted to charge -for the morning’s incoming pilotage after we had gone out to -save a wreck, but we barred that. “You old mens sleeps -here ashore,” said Henriksen. “We’s go out, slips anchor—dark -night—risks our ship, you charges us! might have -been Titanic and we save thousands’ lives. You say you -haves many tow-boats! why nones go out? What about -insurance, heh?” They quietly dropped the subject.</p> - -<p>But now it’s time to go and put aside the above reflections -and disappointments so far; we have hope, and months, -possibly years, and certainly long seas in front of us, to gain -or to lose in.</p> - -<p>So we up anchor at night with a light air from the east, -and several weeks’ sailing in front of us to Madeira and Cape -Town, and whales on the road, we hope.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Farewell, Ponta Delgada, with your pretty streets -perfumed with fir planks and pineapples; farewell, -San Miguel. How sweetly the delicate tints of your -capital—pale pink and blue—show in this early sunlight.</p> - -<p>Your great clock on the white campanile marks six <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> -and the sunlight glitters already on the blue tiles above the -arches of the inner harbour. That is the place for an artist -who would paint in highest toned water-colours—flowers, -fruit, wine skins, white walls, and blue sea. I will grant you -all this, San Miguel, but there’s a grim side to your island—cliffs -and a lee-shore on a black night, and I seem to recall -a wreck and rockets, distress signals all a fraud, and then -there are those moonlike craters, your beauty spots. You -and the Inferno, Saint Michael, seem to be somewhat neighbourly. -And your people we recall, how kind to the stranger, -a few of them, dark-haired girls in white dresses on green -balconies seemed pretty enough, but in the country how -close they seem to the soil, worn and aged, one good-looking -among a thousand sad women, one pretty child in thread-bare -rags healthy, amongst so many who looked pinched and -hungry.</p> - -<p>No, we do not drop tears at leaving you; but think hopefully -of Madeira and Funchal to the S.E., where we may -meet white people of our own race, and where I have seen -whales; and perhaps we may have a day or two in the -boats, off shore twenty miles, in the heat and blue rollers, -fishing for tunny. A two-hundred-pounder, with the hard line -cutting grooves in the gunwale as it whizzes into the depths, -is good hunting.</p> - -<p>I pen this farewell to the island in my bunk, looking out -at the port, determined not to go on deck and see any more -departures—that hurried one in the night watches to save -a wreck was quite satisfying, so “we” doze and let the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span> -town and the island go by, and think of Madeira and the -Cape Verde, and hope that some day soon our little expedition -will begin to pay, and try to forget that so far we have -only incurred expenses—five shillings here and five pounds -there—pilotage and telegrams, and a thousand trifles that -mount up alarmingly without one penny of return.</p> - -<p>Thus musing somewhat sadly, and all the time listening to -the beat of our engines, I notice they suddenly go a little -slow, and a tide of depression that even the joy of leaving -port will not quite raise, floods my spirits. Yes, they are -dead slow now—something wrong again!—and I harden my -heart and turn out and find we are heading back for the -distant island—more weeks of detention, I can see. But—what -is this—everyone is intently looking forward with -craned necks!</p> - -<p>Great Scott! There are whales—<span class="smcap">Sperm</span>—as you live! -At last—whales! One little blast on the calm grey ocean -a mile away, then another, eight or nine. Nine times -several hundred pounds sterling rolling round, each about -a mile apart. Are we really in our senses—are we really to -strike oil? Heaven be praised—it is not the engine—it is -all right.</p> - -<p>We’re after one.</p> - -<p>Henriksen made a bee-line down to his cabin, got out powder -and had the harpoon-gun loaded and ready in two shakes.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is difficult to write about the day now, we are tired, -the work has been great and our first whale worth, say, some -hundred pounds, enough to cover our outward-bound expenses; -it seems hardly believable.</p> - -<p>It is true we have only one of these sperm. We could, I -believe, have killed several, but for a completely new crew<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> -at whaling; we thought one would be enough for us. It is -a bit awkward with one fish running a line, to tackle a -second that perhaps goes in the opposite direction, and the -flensing at sea for such a small crew is such a big work that -we simply stuck to the one.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span></p> - -<p>We chased it for hours; there is no good in chasing one -and then rushing off to the next that appears; by a fluke -you might strike across the stranger’s course and get him on -the rise, but the best plan is to study the movements of the -whale of your choice, and by judiciously following it learn -its movements so as to cut across its course and get in your -harpoon at the right time.</p> - -<p>It is difficult to describe the intense excitement of chasing -whales, and the more so when your interest in it is even -more than the hunting—when you have shares to make -profit on, for friends interested in the bag.</p> - -<p>At about seven-thirty we saw the whales, and by nine we -had been three times almost within harpooning distance, say -within forty yards, when always the whale “tailed up,” and -took his final dive. A whale comes to the surface, blows -and takes in breath, several times, just going below surface -between each blast. After it feels refreshed it goes below -on its business for a dive of, say, twenty minutes or half-an-hour, -and may appear any distance from the spot it went -down at. In this last dive it raises the after part of its body -with a slow elevation, a sort of sad farewell to the hunter. -Certain whales, such as the sperm and narwhal, and Right -whales, lift the whole tail out, but others, such as the finners -we hunt off Shetland, only show the ridge in front of the tail; -and seldom show their tails or flukes until they are harpooned.</p> - -<p>One thing that comforted us greatly was that we knew -from this whale’s movements that though he avoided our -treading on his heels, as it were, he was never scared or -gallied by our engine or propeller’s beat.</p> - -<p>It would take volumes to describe the different ways of -each kind of whale. The sperm whale usually feeds in -something of a circle, so you keep cruising round the inside -of the circle.</p> - -<p>For hours we chased, very seldom speaking, eating brown -bread, and drinking coffee, standing on deck, sticking to -the neighbourhood of our first acquaintance, balancing the -prospects of our expedition’s failure or success on the way -this one whale took our approach. Sceptics had told us -the beat of our motor would frighten a whale more than<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span> -the slower revolving screw of the steam-whaler; we play -our one card that it will not, so to-day our anxiety can be -understood.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus18"> -<img src="images/illus18.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Cutting with a Spade into the Case or -Head of a Cachalot Whale</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus19"> -<img src="images/illus19.jpg" width="700" height="350" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The Tail of a Sperm or Cachalot Whale Sounding</span></p> -</div> - -<p>There was too much at stake on this occasion for the writer -to do the harpooning, so Henriksen took the gun and harpoon. -The actual firing and hitting a whale any good pistol-shot -can do. But manœuvring the vessel, stalking the -whale, as it were, needs a good deal of experience, and it -goes without saying one must have perfect sea-legs, indeed, -that is perhaps the greatest difficulty. It takes a great deal -of experience to be unconscious, when there is a roll on, of -any effort to balance oneself, which is, of course, absolutely -essential for a successful shot.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing21.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>At last the grey, blunt-headed whale rose almost in front -of us a little to starboard, blew his blast and went under for -a few yards and rose again dead in front of our bow; higher -and higher his back rose, then <i>Bang!</i>—and we were fast and -the line rattling out.</p> - -<p>That was a grand boom! and a straight shot. A great -surge followed as the whale went down, and out went the -five-inch rope—for but a short distance, though it was a -heavy rope, spun for far more powerful prey than the sperm -or cachalot, and we soon began to reel in, and the writer -with a long lance ended the valuable animal’s troubles.</p> - -<p>I noticed, as the point of the lance went into the whale, -that its silky grey skin was marked here and there with series -of circles, something like Burmese writing magnified. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span> -take these to be the marks from the suckers on the tentacles -of the great cuttle-fish on which the sperm feeds, and here -and there, over its great sides, were deeper scrawls—light-brown-coloured -lines on the greyish skin which may have -been made by the cuttle-fishes’ parrot-like beaks. Two -of its companions came alongside it while it was still alive, -and tried to help it by shouldering it away from us.</p> - -<p>Had we only had a bay to tow these whales into we would -have easily taken more, but we did not quite know how the -Portuguese would have welcomed us had we towed their -bodies back to Ponta Delgada after killing them, if not -exactly at their own doors, still within sight of their town.</p> - -<p>The big grey backs with their blunt noses looked intensely -interesting when we first came amongst them—cruising about -and puffing little forward jets of spray almost without the -least regard to our presence....</p> - -<p>We have waited several months for the sight, and I am -inclined to think we feel repaid—that is, looking at the -matter merely as hunting.</p> - -<p>... Somehow I feel at a loss here how to describe the -accumulation of feelings at the end of the long waiting -and planning. We feel we are right on the high road to -success, our engine worked perfectly, our vessel was apparently -calculated to a nicety to approach and kill whales, and -to keep the sea almost indefinitely.</p> - -<p>Big finner whaling, such as I have described in a previous -chapter, is much more exciting than killing these sperm or -cachalot, for which our tackle is unnecessarily powerful. -But after all, in the pursuit of any kind of game, it is the -hunting that counts as sport. The killing with any modern -weapon of precision is nothing, it is the getting there that -counts, and we have had many months both planning and -hunting before we got this, our first bull sperm; also it is -of greater value than the largest finner; and that must be -our first consideration.</p> - -<p>We found no ambergris<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> in this one. It disgorged several -cuttle-fish but they were not lost, for the sharks soon came -round, and nothing comes amiss to them.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus20"> -<img src="images/illus20.jpg" width="700" height="575" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">“Starboard” Trying to Get Out of the Lasso</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus21"> -<img src="images/illus21.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Cutting up Sperm Blubber</span></p> -<p class="caption">In the waist of the “St. Ebba.” The boilers are in the background.</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span></p> - -<p>Ambergris is found sometimes in sperm’s intestine, sometimes -thrown from the whale into sea. It is used as the basis -of scents. At present its selling price is 100 shillings per -ounce. A whaler a year ago secured some from one whale, -sold it for £20,000.</p> - -<p>All afternoon we worked, cutting up the whale—first of all -we made a cut round its shoulder and fin, or hand—a whale -has bones like those of a hand inside the fibrous fin. In fact, -the whale’s anatomy is similar to that of a land animal, not -like that of fish. The hip bone and thigh are only floating -rudimentary bones.</p> - -<p>We cut a round hole through the blubber, round the fin -or arm, shoved a strop or loop of rope through from the -under side of the blubber and pulled that taut on to a sort -of button of oak called a toggle on the outside surface of skin. -Then, with the winch’s hook and chain hooked on to the -strop, we pulled away, by steam power gradually raising a -strip of blubber about two feet in width and of about eight -inches in depth off the whale, as the body slowly revolved -in the water, cutting it clear of the flesh with the flensing -blades from the dory or flat-bottomed boat.</p> - -<p>From the illustration you may form an idea of how the -blubber is “made off.” The head and tail parts were treated -separately. Finner whales on a landing-stage on shore -are stripped or flensed from end to end with an instrument -like a sabre on a long shaft, but if we have to strip or flense -one at sea, we shall have to do so in the same way as this -sperm whale.</p> - -<p>We worked late and turned in, all very tired. The sharks -that came round us to feed on our whale were a new experience -to most of our northern sailors; they grew quite excited -about them; some of them, instead of sleeping, stayed on -deck to kill sharks. To kill one single-handed seemed to be -the great ambition.</p> - -<p>The first mate at breakfast to-day related how he harpooned -his shark, fifteen feet long, in the morning watch, dropped a -running bowline round its tail, and with a tackle got it on -board by himself, and Henriksen, his elder brother, quietly -described a cross with his knife’s point on our galley roof!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span></p> - -<p>But it was quite true; and other men did so—a seaman-like -piece of work. The harpooning is easy as shelling peas, but -to make fast the line to a belaying pin and get a running -bowline round the tail, and then hitch on a tackle and -purchase to that and heave the shark outward single-handed -needs sailorlike neatness and quickness rather than great -strength.</p> - -<p>We let the youngsters have their fill of shark-killing; -when each has killed or helped to kill one, the novelty -will wear off, and they will get accustomed to their company, -and will not stop work to pay them more than a passing -attention with the flensing blades.</p> - -<p>At early dawn we recommence at the whale; our crew -have not yet quite mastered the process, but they will do it. -We have strong winches if few men, fifteen is our complement, -about sixty used to tackle the job in the old -style.</p> - -<p>With practice and our captain’s ingenuity and determination -we will get <i>Case</i>, <i>Junk</i>, and all on board before midday -meal. It is a thorough bit of sailor’s work, every dodge -of purchase block and pulley needed.</p> - -<p>We have the junk now on board; it was a big hoist, and -at the next port of call we will get some extra thick wire back-stays -to strengthen our masts, and so heave the next head -on board with greater ease.</p> - -<p>It is a marvel this case or long forehead of spongelike -spermaceti oil, only covered with thin soft blubber skin.</p> - -<p>The mass of fibrous tissue is even fuller of liquid oil than -a bath sponge could be full of water. Whilst it was still -warm we pumped it out with flexible steel pipes, but it condensed -and choked the pipe. But when it grew colder we -could just handle it. I should think it produced about two -tons of liquid oil.</p> - -<p>Now we have the long under jaw of white leather-like -quality, with its double row of ivory-white teeth, on board.</p> - -<p>This is where our plan of campaign differs from the most -recent whalers; they either tow their prey ashore or into -harbour alongside great floating ship factories of several -thousand tons, to be cut up and boiled down. We cut it up<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span> -at sea and take the blubber on board, melt or cook it, and -sail away.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus22"> -<img src="images/illus22.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Hauling Sperm Whale’s Flipper and Blubber on Board -the “St. Ebba”</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Our deck is now like a marble quarry, with great white -chunks of fat in the moonlight, and dusky figures cutting -these into blocks of about a foot square to go into our two -pots.</p> - -<p>To-day steam was let into them at one hundred and sixty -pounds’ pressure, and the cooker has to watch two taps -running from these, each now pouring out beautifully fine -sperm oil.</p> - -<p>Our whale cooker is little more than a boy, but he is a bit -of a chef already, having studied whale-boiling in these very -remote frost-bound islands, the South Shetlands previously -referred to.</p> - -<p>He stands by the two pots on either side of our small ship -amidships, one to port, one to starboard; now and then he -dips a bright tin ladle into the oil that keeps running out into -an open tank, and sniffs at it, and pours it back lovingly, -examining its colour, which is like pale sherry.</p> - -<p>There is no smell actually about our cooking process, till -the water that is formed in the pots by the condensing steam -has to be blown out of the bottoms of the pots. Then the -blue sea gets a yellow scum and the atmosphere is pervaded -far and near with the smell of beef-tea—the smell alone would -make an invalid get up and walk for miles to windward.</p> - -<p>At night it comes into my port under the blanket and permeates -my being; we wish all whales at the bottom of the -sea, but <i>toute passe</i> and in a minute or two the air is fresh -again, and there is nothing left but a greasy feeling.</p> - -<p>Each pot holds about fifteen barrels. I think this whale’s -blubber will fill them several times and produce, say, seventy -barrels, at five barrels to the ton, and the ton at £30. -This whale ought to be worth moneys, so we see a fortune increasing -by leaps and bounds, and we put aside all thoughts -of more delays and difficulties and losses.</p> - -<p>It is sweltering hot on our lee side, the side on which we -are flensing the whale. Our men take to drink!—a pale -pink tipple brewed in a large margarine tin and ladled round; -I think it must be one part red-currant wine to five of water;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span> -I have tried it once or twice and always just miss the -taste.</p> - -<p>Blue sharks have pretty colours, especially when they are -freshly caught, steel-grey and violet on their back, changing -to green and white underneath. The long emerald-green eye -in the grey skin is most effective—wicked-looking to a -degree! Who has described the exquisite colour of the -shark’s pilot fish, with its upright stripes blue and white, like -the wings of a jay, and who can tell why they swim in front -of his nose—is it to give the shark a squint? And why do -they sometimes change (there are generally two of them) and -take up positions on either side of his dorsal fin, and move -as the shark moves exactly, never getting an inch from the -position, and then, without rhyme or reason, they will both -swim away somewhere, and come back again?</p> - -<p>I think the grimmest aspect of sharks is in a quiet moonlight -night, when above the calm water you see their dark fins -quietly circling round you, and sometimes there is a whitish -gleam as one quietly puts its head up above the moonlit -water and quietly takes hold of a lump of whale fat, and -breaks the stillness by shaking it like a tiger!</p> - -<p>Still another half-night at our whale—the deck full of -moonlight and dark shadows, great cubes of sperm white -as marble, gleaming knife blades, the light glinting on oily -hands, arms and faces, greasy thumps as chunks of blubber -are heaved across the deck towards the cooking pots. Two -dusky figures stand on top of these, silhouetted against the -blue sky and stars. We work by moonlight, for dark nights -we shall have an acetylene flare. The spermaceti of the head -we handle in buckets and bailers. It seems a question -whether to bail the clean, slippery oil with buckets or grasp -it with both hands. All hands work very hard, for every -handful, every chunk represents profit to them, and they -joke all the time, with never a swear word, as far as I can -hear. The captain smokes and looks on and smiles at some -of their remarks. He keeps his eye on everything without -interfering unnecessarily. The mate, his young brother, -and his men want to show what they can do, though this -line of business is new to most of them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span></p> - -<p>The cooking pots worked all night, and in my watch below, -half awake, I dreamed of a hundred kitchens cooking beef-tea, -then turned over with a sense of great satisfaction at -having seen our show well started—the motor is going all -right and we have proved we can approach whales as well -as with a steam-whaler—a great satisfaction—and have -proved we can flense a sperm at sea with such tackle as we -have: and both the approach and the flensing before we -left home were said to be impossible.</p> - -<p>It is true that our flensing took a long time. But in the -case of Right whales, Australis, if we are lucky enough to fall -in with them, it will pay at least to take their whalebone -at sea if nothing else.</p> - -<p>On the old sailing-ship whaler, with large decks and powerful -masts to use tackles from, and a crew of fifty men, more -rapid flensing could be made than we can manage with only -fifteen all told, including engineers, and a very small ship.</p> - -<p>Our plan now is to try round about the Azores, if the -weather is good, for another whale or two, then to proceed to -Madeira, about two days’ sail—I have seen several kinds of -whales off its north coast—and then hunt south and west of -Africa, down to the Cape, and then to the Crozet Islands for -seals, or to the Seychelles, north of Madagascar, for sperm -and blue whales, and possibly thereafter to New Zealand. -Some islands we have information about south of New -Zealand for Bone whales or Australis.</p> - -<p>St Ebba got a few more whales in the latitudes of the -Azores and Madeira, but the weather got too rough, so she -continued southwards.</p> - -<p>Possibly the end of the last chapter was rather oily and -whaley, and smelt perhaps a little of filthy lucre. Perhaps -I may be allowed, therefore, a chapter on flowers and -Madeira—a day or two on shore and some tunny-fishing for a -change from whale-hunting; though I must say that no two -whale-hunts are quite alike; each has its particular thrilling -interest, more especially the big finner hunting, for they are -ten times more powerful than sperm. But repeated description, -without depicting boats flying in the air and whales -standing on their heads, and so on, must become tiresome<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span> -reading, so as I cannot, from a casual habit of accuracy, -invent thrilling incidents, let us to tunny. Tunny are not -half bad fun when you have one on, but the waiting out on the -blue rollers in a blaze of sun twenty miles from shore is trying, -but when one comes on and your coils of line are whizzing -out into the blue at a fearful rate, there is quite a lively -time, almost anxious—for you have to be careful not to get -caught by hands or feet in the coils of the line, which is -pretty thick, just the thickness of this rather thick fountain -pen with which we continue these notes.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>The St Ebba killed a few more whales in the seas -between the Azores and Madeira, but they were of -no great value—seihvale and small sperm—and -the weather became tempestuous, so she proceeded southwards. -The island of Madeira is thirty-five miles long and -six thousand feet high. It was very hot on the south side -amongst the sugar-cane crops and vineyards. But on the -north side, with wind off the sea, high up in the mountains -and riding through oak woods, bracken and heath and -roaring burns, it was delightful, and probably more -healthy than the slack air and life you have down at -Funchal.</p> - -<p>Funchal, the capital, is much the same as Ponta Delgada -in the Azores, a white town with red-tiled houses and green -blinds round a blue bay. But it is merely an open road-stead -and has not nearly such a picturesque inner harbour as -Ponta Delgada. It is a very quiet town; the only sound -is the twittering canaries, and the occasional <i>Hush</i> of the -Atlantic surge on the boulders.</p> - -<p>There is quite a large contingent of British residents who -have gone in for gardening strongly at their quintas. So -that Funchal, in almost every month of the year, presents -some astonishing flowery spectacular effect.</p> - -<p>Geraniums are the least sensational. They pour over the -walls of the lanes everywhere. I noticed one evening a high -white wall in shade lit up with pink from the reflected scarlet -of geraniums that hung over the opposite wall.</p> - -<p>The jackaranda is the most amusingly pretty flowering -tree. One morning you notice its bare indiarubber-like -leafless branches, a few days after the bare branches are -covered all over with bunches of Neapolitan violets—at -least, they look exactly like them, and a day or two later the -street is carpeted with the fallen blossoms and the golden<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span> -brown oxen of the carros<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> go wading through them, leaving -dark tracks where the little polished pebbles of the cobbled -road show through the violet.</p> - -<p>I tried tunny-fishing off Madeira on several occasions. -Perhaps this is a subject more suitable to introduce in a -whaler’s log than descriptions of flowers and canaries.</p> - -<p>On one occasion I persuaded a hotel visitor to accompany -me, with a crew of Portuguese.</p> - -<p>The tunny, or tuna, is a mackerel; there are several kinds. -Those I saw ran from about twenty pounds to three hundred -pounds.</p> - -<p>You have to start before daybreak for the fishing from -Madeira, which is apt to put off intending tunny-fishers, but -“41,” as I shall call my friend at Reid’s Hotel, after the -number of his room, agreed to risk the briny and an early -rise—I doubt if he will do it again—blue Atlantic rollers -and a sub-tropical sun are somewhat trying.</p> - -<p>Here are notes from my sketch-book of our day’s proceedings, -begun, I may inform the sympathetic reader, in -the Palace Hotel before daylight.</p> - -<p>... All is still—it is only three hours past midnight, -the people in this caravanserai are all asleep—we alone are -awake in the great empty dining-room—the night waiter -and the writer—the writer cross and thirsting for an early -cup of tea—the night porter does not understand this, but—he -comes from Las Palmas, that is all I can learn from him. -He is limp of figure and has black eyes and hair and his -sallow face only expresses dull resignation and an unfulfilled -desire for sleep in a corner: he is young, but I think no smile -has ever passed over his chilly countenance in this life. He -does not even move a feature or express the least remorse -when I tell him it was No. 41, not 49, he should have awakened—fancy -“49’s” feelings! so, to make sure, we go together and -pull out No. 41—“41,” in pyjamas, and red-eyed, seems to -have forgotten altogether that he was to go fishing with me. -Fishing at ten <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, with a pipe and a grog, and fishing at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span> -three in the morning are so different! So the writer and the -mirthless waiter sit down again in the vast empty dining-room -and wait whilst “41” gets into his clothes.... Now -we are ready—an hour later than the end of above paragraph, -but still tea-less. My fishermen and interpreter -have been waiting under the palms in front of the hotel, -smoking cigarettes and talking quietly and with interest, -even at this dark hour of morning. We give them our -thermos flasks, with only cold coffee in them, and our provisions -for two days, in baskets, and with them we steal into -the night round the hotel gardens and terraces, trimmed -with tenantless wicker-work chairs, under the palms, pale -in the faint moonlight, down the steps, over the cliffs with -care, through an iron gate, we must look like conspirators, -but we only feel sleepless; down and down, till we come to -the bathing steps and dimly discern our boat and men rising -and falling in the grey foam. We embark with difficulty, -with our provisions, and row off. The moon in the west -breaks a little through the clouds and cheers us with its -broken reflections on the long swell. “41” is in the stern, -the writer in the bow, four rowers and the interpreter -between us.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing22.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We pass under the cliffs to the west of Funchal Bay, -rowing steadily with two long sweeps, two men to a sweep, -close to the surf on the rocks, and pass a blow-hole in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span> -rocks, where the rising surge makes a fountain of fine spray -through a hole in the rocks, very like a whale’s blast. It is -blowing intermittently, dimly seen in the moonlight. As -we pass the outstanding rocky island opposite it we catch -a faint land breeze and step our mast and set the mainsail -and slip along in absolute silence.</p> - -<p>It is a long sail, we have nearly twenty miles before we -get to the place the tunny frequent.</p> - -<p>We pass the fishing village of Camara da Lobos (place of -the seals), several miles to starboard. It nestles round the -head of a bay—the deep glen behind it in shadow, the white -houses in moonlight—a few yellow lights move about, our -crew live there.</p> - -<p>Under the cliff of Cabo Girao we closed our eyes for, it -seemed, a minute, and opened them to find a change. The -sadness of night was gone and it was all hilarious blue day.</p> - -<p>How quickly the night goes, even in the sub-tropics; as -fast as it falls, almost in a minute, the moon’s sheen on the -swell is gone, and the glorious sun shines again, from behind -us over the east end of Madeira. Due west there is a lapis -lazuli blue sky over a bank of pink cumuli, the full, golden -moon seems to stay one moment in the blue before it sets -behind the bank of cloud; then all the sea and sky is the -blue of the tropics again, as it was yesterday and the day -before—great swells of a rippling blue sea, and a blue sky, -and that is all, excepting our little selves and our green, red -and yellow boat in the immensity.</p> - -<p>The features of our crew are now clear to us, and they -unwind the cloths they wore round their heads for protection -against the moonlight and night air. Alas, “41” -still tries to sleep, and so does the interpreter; I fear the -motion is the cause—the rise and send of a small boat in the -Atlantic is very trying. Ahead of us there is one sail like -our own; we see it now and then as it rises on a blue swell; -now the top of the white sail catches the golden light of the -sunrise, then far away beyond it something, a mere speck, -appears for an instant, then another, there are boats out there -fishing; it comes quite as a surprise to find fellow-creatures -out so far from shore in small craft. We cannot count them,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span> -for we only see three or four at a time, as they appear in turn -on the top of the swell. Now the sail in front drops, and the -boat is like the others, with the mast down, and oars out, -and little figures standing out silhouetted against the sky -for a second, then lost to sight. In another ten minutes -we have joined the fleet, and dip our sail and stow our mast -away.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus23"> -<img src="images/illus23.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Sleeping Bear and Cubs</span></p> -</div> - -<p>And the colour of these mariners! We can hardly begin -to fish, so great is our desire to gloat on the appearance of -each boat—its weathered brilliant colours and its crew as it -appears in its turn over the back of a blue glittering swell. -Camara da Lobos men all wear wide straw hats, with a broad -black ribbon round them, so their brown faces are in shadow; -their shirts, originally white, are tinted like old ivory by many -washings and voyages, so were their cotton trousers, and -tattered and patched most wonderfully. The boats are -striped yellow and blue, with perhaps magenta, and blue -oars; coarse enough colours they would look under a northern -sun, but here, with the complementary tints from the strong -light, and all repeated by reflections in the blue sea, they -become a sight to rejoice anyone with half an eye. The -fishing, however, soon engrossed our attention.</p> - -<p>As a preliminary to tunny-fishing you have to catch large -mackerel as bait and smaller mackerel to throw out into the -sea when the tunny comes along in order to keep them in -your neighbourhood. For the small fry we fished with a -yard of cane and a yard of line and a small hook baited with -little cubes of mackerel. The captain chopped up some -of these into a fine paste on a board with a machete and put -the paste into the water to draw more fish; as it faded away -down into the clear green depths, swarms of these little fish, -about four to the pound, dashed to and fro, eating it, and -every now and then one would take our bait, when there was -a flash of silver in the water, and out he came to join his -neighbours in a bucket.</p> - -<p>Another of our crew, “Bow,” we will call him, rigged -a longer hand-line and fished deep, and soon pulled up -some magnificent spotted mackerel. This bait-catching was -apparently the object of the early morning start—large<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span> -mackerel for bait for the tunny, and small fish to catch the -mackerel. The small fish, when they are let loose, are supposed -to hug the shadow of the boat and so keep the tunny -in the neighbourhood: besides this purpose, they form our -principal food at midday.</p> - -<p>These large mackerel were kept alive alongside on tethers, -hooked by the nose—with a rather clever rustic swivel on -the line—kept alive to be used for the tunny. But usually -a big basket is kept floating alongside, into which are put -the live bait, large and small. There was so much going on; -so many little fishing dodges new to me that I must have -missed much; what held my attention were the great coils -of strong hand-line, thirty fathoms in each, thick as the -average man’s little finger, with brass-twisted wire trace, -fifteen plies, each with thick iron hook at its end.</p> - -<p>After we had caught enough mackerel we went several -miles farther out to sea, and the two men in the stern each -made fast a large mackerel to his line—put the big iron hook -through its nose and a fine wire twisted lightly, from the -shank to the neck of the barb to prevent the fish working -off.</p> - -<p>Finally we had four of these live baits and strong lines at -different depths, drifting astern; and two men at the oar -gently paddled to keep the boat in position and the lines -up and down. For hours we sat so, and thought tunny-fishing -uncommonly dull.</p> - -<p>If one could speak Portuguese it would help to pass the -time. What fun it would have been to get the local “clash” -from these pleasant-looking men, all in tatters, miraculously -stitched together. How curious would have been their -views of life and their experiences and traditions, but my -interpreter was sick as could be, and made neither moan -nor attempt at translation, so the crew chatted and better -chatted between themselves, and laughed occasionally, and -so passed the time, whilst the writer patiently and silently -held a line for hours, waiting for the huge tug that seemed -never going to come.</p> - -<p>But the next boat to us soon got one—a whacking big -fellow; he fought them for an hour and a half and they gave<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span> -him twenty strokes of a bludgeon on the head in a smother -of foam alongside the boat, and pulled him over the side with -two huge gaffs and ropes, and then sat down exhausted. He -was about two-thirds of the length of the boat and must -have weighed well over three hundred pounds, and was -worth £3 at the market, to the two men and two boys -who got it. Lucky fellows! They lifted the boat seats to -show it to us, and there it lay, a silver and blue torpedo-shaped -fish with huge deep shoulders. The natives call the -tunny albicore. We congratulated them and gazed at it, -and listened to their gasping description of the fight, how -it had sounded seven times and taken out a desperate -number of lines. Then other two boats lost one each—that -is, they got into fish that were too big for them, and made their -lines fast, and the fish broke away. Time was their consideration; -they prefer several smaller fish of, say, one or -two hundred pounds to a bigger one that may weigh five -hundred pounds but will take the whole day to play it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing23.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>It got tiresome as the hours went by with never a soul -to speak to, for “41” and the interpreter were both still ill, -and the sun got very hot, so we decided that after midday -meal we would up stick and make sail. A flat hearth of -charred wood was laid amidships. Three small boulders -were laid on it and sticks between, and these were lit and a -great tin can of sea-water was set on the stones to boil, with -the fish, and sweet potatoes, in it, and a right hearty meal -we made, with fingers for knives, and the blue Atlantic for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span> -a finger-bowl, and the appetising meal was washed down -with water from a barrel and some ruby red vino pasto -wine fit for the gods.... Ah, well, better luck next time, -we were saying, as we were about to haul in our line, when -the tug came, a most tremendous tug!</p> - -<p>We are fast in a tunny at last! and a pulley-haul fight -begins—what a weight it is! You feel as if you were pulling -up the bottom of the ocean for a second, and then that it is -pulling you, willy-nilly, into its depths, therefore you let go -line, and jam it down on the gunwale to check it, and it runs, -squeaking, out, cutting a groove in the wood. I cannot tell -you how much stout line went out—there were many lines -the thickness of flag halyards of thirty fathoms each, attached -to each other—but the whole stern of the boat seemed filled -with wet coiled-down line when we had been pulling in for -a few minutes, and then, in a minute, it was almost gone, -and then wearisomely two of us pulled it in again, hand over -hand, with much gasping and tugging, more and more line -is coiled up in our stern sheet, but still no sign of the fish. -As the fight—pull devil, pull baker—proceeded another man -managed to pull in the other lines all in a heap, and we were -able to devote our united attention to the fish. It seemed -strong as a horse and took us practically all in charge, and we -had to be nimble to let the whizzing loops of hard line get -away clear of our feet and wrists. We were pretty well -blown, cut and sore, by the time its efforts lessened. Then -we got in coil after coil, six coils in hand then lost two, then -eight and lost one, then set teeth and pulled steadily with -both hands between times, and at last and at length, the -silver glitter we expected showed deep down in the blue. -Even then there were many more coils to bring in; the water -being so intensely clear, the enormous mackerel showed many -fathoms down, swinging round and round.... The latter -part of the fray needed instantaneous photography to depict -it—what with the tunny pulling and our weight all leaning -to one side to get the line in, and then to gaff the fish, and the -roll of the sea combined, too many things happened at one -time to be very clearly remembered afterwards. We had -two gaffs—huge affairs—and as the tunny dashed here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span> -and there we managed to get one into it, then the second, -and we lurched half-seas over; the tunny was kicking up a -smother of foam all the colours of the rainbow! Then with -the gaffs we pulled its head out of the water up to the gunwale, -and banged it twenty times with a wooden thing like -an Indian club till it was still, or only quivered, then a -lurch from a blue sea seemed to help to get half of it on -board, and a big heave and it all came in, and we lifted a -seat and put it along the bottom and raised ourselves and -waved our hats. It was quite as good fun as any salmon-fishing -I have ever had, and nearly as exciting as whaling; -that is, during the actual playing, but the previous waiting -was trying beyond words, you get roasted by the sun and -bitten by salt spray and stiff and cramped—you “chuck -and chance it,” and chuck but once in half-a-day and may -have to wait days and days before you catch your first -tunny.</p> - -<p>Getting all the lines clear again took a long time and neat -and patient handling; we did not help at that, we were -rather tired. But we watched the iridescent colours of -the tunny fade; in half-an-hour its brightest blues and -shimmering pinks and silver were almost gone, and -changed to dark green on the back and dull silver below. -Fifty-four kilos we made it out to be—five feet three -inches long, with enormous girth. Unfortunately I lost -its chest measurement, but think it was four feet three -inches. The three-hundred-pound tunny we saw caught -close to us was worth £3 at the present market -value.</p> - -<p>At four we gave up. The everlasting rolling in hot sun -on tossing sea, however beautifully blue, as you lie drifting, -becomes very trying in a small boat; besides, the native -fishermen themselves all knock off between three and four. -But we must try again, and some day, when we thoroughly -know the ropes, we will get a small sailing craft and try the -business single-handed, for there is a lot of fun, in my opinion, -to be had fishing so, for trout or salmon—to play your own -salmon and gaff it, or manage your boat and trout and land -it, say a five-pounder on fine tackle, is excellent, but to land<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span> -a tunny single-handed, doing your own sailing and gaffing, -would be—just sublime!</p> - -<p>It was pleasant sailing back to land close-hauled with the -fresh breeze, which had risen with the sun and turned the -smooth swell into crisp waves with blue breaking tops, that -soft and white breaking sea of the Trades that is more caressing -than threatening. Most of the other boats gave up fishing -at the same time, about three <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> The skipper gave me the -tiller; neither of us could speak the other’s tongue, but there -is a quick understanding between all of us who sail small -boats, and both skipper and boat seemed to become old -friends to me. They are better sailing craft than I had -fancied, though they do not draw much, for they have to be -beached; but they have two bilge keels, which make them -sail pretty close—they all sail closer and are “lighter in the -mouth” than I had expected. You notice in the drawing -they have a high stem and stern post, and the rudder ships -just as it does in the boats of the north of Norway. The sail -is simple, a large square dipping lug—the canvas from Dundee—the -tack is made fast at the stem, or a little to either side, -and the sheet is simply rove through a hole in the gunwale -of the sharp stern.</p> - -<p>We got ashore at last and “41” and the Juan Fernado, -the interpreter, revived and spoke again as we got into -smoother water.</p> - -<p>We climbed up the cliffs in the late afternoon and “41” -had to explain to José, the major-domo of the hotel, why we -did not stay out all night, as we at first intended to do—“No -room in boat,” etc., etc., he said, and José smiled his genial -smile and said: “Told you so, told you so, eet ees dee same -ding always, gentlemen do come back so; dey not like de -smell of de feesh, dey say.”</p> - -<p>Now there is the moon again, I declare! I began this -chapter by its silvery light before dawn, and now it appears -again as I wind up my notes at night; it surely has done its -round at an unusual pace; it seems to me only a minute or -two since it went down in the west, ruddy as a new penny—it -had only a small gallery then—mostly fisher folk; this -evening the hotel people are all watching it from a verandah;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span> -they will be late for dinner, so beautiful is its yellow glory -and its track across the sea from the Disertas to the foot of -our cliffs. I must make a study of it to-morrow and will -need a ruler to draw the black shadows of our masts, so -straight are they along the path of gold.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing24.jpg" width="500" height="250" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>After killing our first bull sperm off the Azores -we killed a few more whales, north of the Line, -rorquals and small sperms of no great value. -Then, owing to the warm water of the tropics not cooling -our engine sufficiently, we had more engine trouble on the -voyage from the Line to Cape Town. One day under sail -and engine, the next drifting and tinkering at the engine. -At the Cape, however, relief came; a Norwegian expert at -Diesel motors was sent out and he diagnosed the trouble at -once, increased the flow of cooling water, altered the screw -slightly and got the St Ebba into splendid trim, and the old -engineer, a Swede, went home.</p> - -<p>Under sail and motor our little vessel did a record passage -up the Mozambique Channel, in heavy weather, past Madagascar -to the region of calm seas round the Seychelle Islands, -five degrees south of the Line. We would rather have gone -south instead of north, to the Crozet Islands, for the sea-elephants -which we know are there, but, owing to the last -two vessels that called there having been wrecked, insurance -rates became prohibitive; so we acted on the alternative -plan we had formed in Norway, and went to the Seychelles -to find if my old whaling chart said sooth about the sperm -there. I had also heard from old whalers that there were -many blue whales, and these we knew had never been -hunted, and the sperm we counted on having increased -in numbers; since the sperm-whaling was almost given up -forty years ago. Our forecast was correct; we found both -sperm and rorquals in great numbers.</p> - -<p>We set to killing and flinching (or flensing) the sperm -whales at sea. But we soon realised that for one we killed -and flinched at sea we could take and utilise a dozen with a -shore station; for the labour, French Creole, on the Seychelles -is plentiful and cheap. Besides, we were losing not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span> -only much oil, owing to the warmth of the water, but also the -use of the bodies of the whales. One of these drifted ashore -beneath Government House. It was very high, and we were -politely informed that—that was the limit!</p> - -<p>So we applied to the Seychelle Government for licences for -a large land station in order to utilise both the blubber and -the entire bodies of our whales. Licences were granted to -us and we purchased the land site for a station; and now -we are running our little Company into a large affair, with -both British and Norwegian Directors and capital, and the -station is being prepared—a complete land station, to work -with several whaling steamers; capable of turning out, by -the latest processes and modern machinery, several hundred -barrels of oil and bags of guano per day, the guano being -produced from the whale’s bones and meat after all oil has -been extracted.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing25.jpg" width="500" height="250" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Now I have come to a point in this relation of the history of -the St Ebba when I find myself in the position of a historical -painter who was decorating a building in New York with -a historical frieze of American history, and he stopped. -“Why,” said his patrons, “do you stop?” “Why,” he -replied, “because—you haven’t got any more history!” So -our St Ebba’s history must also stop in the meantime. -Possibly we may join her again and go on with our narration, -and paint blue seas and coral strands fringed with waving -palms, and hunt whales where there are never gales, and turn -turtle and catch bonita and tunny and so on. Meantime -we leave her at anchor in the Seychelles in charge of the -mate, engineers and two men. The mate writes that his crew<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span> -strike at turtle soup more than three times a week, and -Henriksen has gone to Norway about the outfit for the -new station and steamers for our developed Company.</p> - -<p>Here it was the writer’s intention to bring in some notes -about whaling in the Antarctic regions, 1892-1893, partly -because they might contrast interestingly with the following -recent notes on the Arctic seas, but this promised to -make too large a volume, so we miss the Antarctic and go -direct to notes about hunting and drawing in the Arctic.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing26.jpg" width="500" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Now we come to notes about the Arctic regions, -whales and bears, promised in the preface to this -collection of spun yarn, as a sailor-man might call it. -Long ago the writer, as a very small boy, vowed to go North -and bring back bearskins. His instructress failed to excite his -interest in short sentences, such as “<span class="smcap">The Cat ate the Rat</span>,” -so she gave him a little square green book by Ballantyne, -called “Fast in the Ice,” and he at once made rapid progress, -and he promised his instructress that he would go to -Greenland some day and bring her white bearskins—now he -has got them; but it is too late!</p> - -<p>With this brief introduction we come to the subject of a -little North Polar expedition we arranged this year (1913), six -of us, to hunt for whales, musk oxen, walrus, seals and bears, -or anything else of value in the way of heads or furs, which -we could find.</p> - -<p>I need not go into the financial aspect of the concern, -but I may say my principal object was to study the Arctic -regions as compared with the Antarctic and to make pictures -of the northern ice, and animal life.</p> - -<p>Dr W. S. Bruce, my companion of long ago in the Antarctic, -came to see us off at the Waverley Station, and gave me a -volume by that very remarkable Englishman, the whaler -Scoresby, a scientist and whaler of the Arctic. That and Dr -Bruce’s own splendid book of reference on the Antarctic and -Arctic (“Polar Research”), and my friend Captain Trolle’s -work on the Danish expedition to East Greenland, formed -our Arctic library. Trolle’s description of the Danish expedition -came in particularly well, as our intention was to -visit the part of North-East Greenland, north and east of -Shannon Island, which they charted in 1906-1908, and where, -alas! they left their first leader, Captain Mylius Erichsen.</p> - -<p>“We,” I had better say here, will often stand in these notes<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span> -for my friend C. A. Hamilton of Cochno, and Dunmore, -Stirlingshire, and myself; we have done a little whaling -together, and he gave me his good company a few years ago -through the rough and smooth of hunting black bear and -caribou in the barrens of Newfoundland. The rest of our -party were four Spaniards, one of whom, F. J. de Gisbert, -made the bundabust for this voyage, chartered our diminutive -whaler, at Trömso, provisioned her and arranged about -captain and a Norwegian crew. De Gisbert is to lead the -proposed Spanish National Polar Expedition, and is at -present building his vessel, which ought to be second to none, -as a floating oceanographical laboratory and ice-ship. It is -to be a four or five years’ drift across the Polar basin east to -west, somewhat after the manner of the Nansen expedition, -benefiting from their work, and carrying out still further -observations with a staff of Spanish naval scientists specially -trained in the various branches of natural science in the -high northern latitudes.</p> - -<p>It is a long road to North-East Greenland by Trömso -and the north of Norway, and so many people are familiar -with the Norwegian coast that the reader may care to -make one jump right north and join us on the Fonix, a few -hours out from Trömso—to join our rather curious little -party in the cabin of a very small whaler; so we will avoid -wearisome detail in the latter part of this book about fitting -out our vessel, such as those with which I have perhaps -burdened the first part about our St Ebba.</p> - -<p>So we raise the curtain in the cabin of the Fonix; De -Gisbert and Archie Hamilton are at chess, whilst the writer -and our young Spanish comarados, two brothers Herrero and -their cousin, Don Herrero Velasquez, are playing cards, drawing, -and speaking in French, English, and Spanish, separately -or all at the same time.</p> - -<p>To add to the vocabulary, Svendsen, our skipper, comes -in with his collar up, from the cold outside, and taking -Gisbert’s guitar trolls out Norse sea-songs. Three of us -“touch” the guitar, and we also have bagpipes and a mouth-organ. -It promises to be quite a homely and musical party.</p> - -<p>The engine goes beautifully quietly—but we know from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span> -the wind and the low glass there must be a heavy sea outside -the fiord, and we are heavily laden with coal on deck!</p> - -<p>The evening passes with snatches of Spanish songs, and -bits of sailors’ chanteys, and we have one bottle of rum -between us all as a libation for a successful voyage and a -“full ship.”</p> - -<p>Then, alas, we strike the rough sea outside the fiord, -and roll and pitch as only small whalers can. But still the -three cousins trill away at songs, bravely, bravely, though -they grow more pale. Then they retire one by one to their -minute cabins; turn their keys and shut themselves in their -bunks and hide discomfort. How they live without any air -is a wonder—and after two days they turn up again, smiling.</p> - -<p>A word here about our little whaler, the Fonix, and her -build. She is just a handy size for dodging in and out -amongst the ice, and she is said to be strong. She was built -in 1884 for bottle-nose whaling, and for use in the ice—ninety-two -tons register, two pole masts and a funnel, one hundred -and forty horse-power, eight and a half knots in calm water, -over all one hundred and ten feet, with broad beam, her sides -are sheathed with greenheart and oak two feet thick; her -ribs are eleven inches by twenty inches broad, with only -five and a half inches to six inches between them at bows. -The forefoot has a five-foot thickness of timber and the usual -belts of iron round the stem or cut-water, to protect it when -ramming ice.</p> - -<p>Between 3rd and 6th July we are all seedy, there is no -gainsaying it, the writer perhaps makes the best pretence -not to be so, and is rather envied; and several of the crew -are down, it is not nearly so bad though as last year on the -St Ebba, where, out of a crew of fifteen seasoned hands, -the skipper, first mate, and writer, were all that could stand -a watch for three days after sailing. That was, however, -in a pucca gale. Still, on the Fonix, we managed a game of -chess or two between the appearance and disappearance -of our señors, and worked a little at Spanish and strummed -mandoline and guitar—Gisbert playing the mandoline, -the writer accompanying him on the guitar, whilst all well -enough joined in the words.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span></p> - -<p>I was never with such a musical party. The steward also -plays the guitar, and, with a wire arrangement attached to its -neck, holds a melodeon or mouth-organ to his mouth and -makes a very clever but horrible orchestral effect.</p> - -<p>To-day, the 7th of July, Monday, we are into calmer water, -grey sky and cold—we passed a little ice at night and met -our first ivory gull, it is the harbinger of the North Polar -regions, as the white petrel down South tells of the ice edge. -Last night we drew lots for watches, Hamilton and I take -ours together—we take the second six hours watch—Don -José and his brother Don Luis<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> take the first six hours, and -their cousin, Don Luis<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> and De Gisbert take the third; this -arrangement allows us a change of six hours each day. The -idea is that the two on watch are to risk their lives against -any whale, bear or ferocious animal that may turn up on -their watch. To cheer us up on this somewhat quiet evening, -Gisbert yarned to us about his previous trips to the Arctic; -and told us about some of the ice-protected vessels that lay -round us in Trömso. One of them, the smallest, a mere -twenty-tonner, with a crow’s nest at its short foremast, -he told us, came back from the ice <i>single-handed</i> a year ago! -Another, a yacht-like auxiliary schooner, with fiddle bows, but -heavily protected, a year or two ago was up at the west ice—that -is, east of Greenland—with a party of Germans. They -became overdue and a search party in another small vessel -set out, which called at Jan Mayen Island on the way north, -but found no signs of the lost party; so they pursued their -way north into the floes—hunted about till they burst their -ship up, and only one man returned. On comparing dates -the first party was found to have actually called on their -return journey at Jan Mayen and left only twelve hours -before the relief party called. A letter left at the hut on the -island to this effect would have saved fifteen lives of the -rescue party.</p> - -<p>As we are going to the “West Ice,” north-east of Greenland, -such stories give a sense of anticipated troubles to -our little trip—if, however, one only thought of the dangers -of life, who would go motoring or eat a fish or go to bed?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span></p> - -<p>De Gisbert has picked up several stranded sealers, on his -previous expeditions north; a lot of these set out in poor -vessels with no equipment; for fur-hunting, for blue fox, -bear and seal skins; and they often came to grief. A party -of four wintered in Spitzbergen, badly provisioned, and when -he fell in with them, one lay dead, a second was in the last -stage of scurvy, and the other two were barely able to come -on board and tell their tale. De Gisbert took the sick man -and isolated him—and a distinguished doctor on board said -he had not a chance of life, half his face was gone. He asked -for beer, and the doctor said: “Give him as much as he likes -to drink. He is a dead man.” So he got that light Norwegian -<i>ol</i>, more and more of it; he drank one hundred and fifty-six -bottles in five days, and recovered!</p> - -<p>Another troublesome sealer he took home had gone crazy -on board a small boat on its outward voyage. De Gisbert -hails all sealers and gives them tobacco and their longitude -and latitude, and possibly a bottle of whisky, all of which -things they are generally quite without—as often as not they -carry neither sextant nor chronometer. He was asked to take -this man who had gone crazy back to Norway, and as Gisbert -was on his way south, to save them their season’s sealing, he -humanely did so. The man partially recovered and was let -loose, and messed forward, in the fo’c’sle. But suddenly -one day, at meal-time, he went mad again and cleared everyone -out of the fo’c’sle with a knife in his hand; and they had -to lasso him through the fo’c’sle skylight! Naturally they -put into the first Norwegian village they came to up north -and asked the police to take over the lunatic; but the police -besought Gisbert to take him on to Hammerfest and they -would telegraph and have him met there. He did so, much -to his own loss of time, and at Hammerfest one small boy -came off in a boat to take, single-handed, the raving lunatic, -who required two strong men and a strait jacket: he died -two days after.</p> - -<p>De Gisbert talks of his plans for this coming Spanish -Polar expedition and finds the writer a sympathetic listener, -for have we not worried ourselves over similar troubles, the -raising capital and planning of an expedition to the Far South?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span></p> - -<p>We sight ice in the afternoon, and grey and cold it is—alas, -that the thrill of the first sight of ice should not repeat -itself. My young friends do not seem to be greatly impressed, -not so much so as we were years ago, when, after a three -months’ voyage, the mist rose and we had our first vision of -the marvellous architecture of Antarctic ice.</p> - -<p>Here it is not so impressive as in the South, but beyond -doubt it can show its teeth quite effectively. Curiously it is -often the old, experienced deep-sea sailor who feels the greatest -sensation on going into the ice for the first time. All his life -he has religiously avoided knocking up against anything in -the way of ice or rocks, so when he is called to go straight in -amongst ice-blocks it affects him more than it would a landsman. -I know of such a captain and his first experience -up here. When he had brought his ship into the ice, the -crashing and thumping got on his nerves so that he retreated -to his cabin, and bolted himself in, and had to be fed through -the skylight for three days. This is a true bill.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing27.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We have got some sail set to a westerly breeze and go so -steadily that we can vary our amusements of lasso-throwing, -etc., etc., with fencing. The señors are interested in fencing -but are not very good, but they are good shots at clay pigeons; -that is another side-show we have, De Gisbert is quite a showman -at it. With a five-shooter shot-gun he throws three -clay pigeons up with the left hand and shoots them all before -they reach the water. But at fencing the writer has rather<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span> -a pull, the last three years’ practice in Edinburgh with our -most perfect teacher, M. Leon Crosnier, ought to have some -effect.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus24"> -<img src="images/illus24.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Dead Bear Being Lifted on Board by Steam Winch and Chain</span></p> -</div> - -<p>In Gisbert’s Spanish Polar expedition next year, or the -year after, all men will fence for health’s sake. But who -will instruct? that is the art—fencing without an instructor -is hopeless.</p> - -<p>A seal or two appear to-day and some little auks.</p> - -<p>We get the lines and harpoons ready for our two bow -whale-guns, and other harpoons and lines for walrus boats. -“Chips,” the carpenter, is busy overhauling old oars, and -making new oars.</p> - -<p>So if all goes well we should soon be fast in a whale, or -walrus, or up against a bear.</p> - -<p>But we strike the ice rather far east, over two hundred -miles from Greenland coast! Gisbert has tried before to get -into Greenland to south and west of Jan Mayen; this time we -hope to get in from farther north, about seventy-five degrees, -and hope to strike Shannon Island or that neighbourhood. -We have some slight hope of meeting Eskimos, and possibly -musk oxen. Captain Trolle of the Danish navy was up here -in 1906-1908, and charted the coast of North-East Greenland. -He took command when the leader, Mylius Erichsen, lost his -life in the interior. He says there is a hut on the island, -one of these lonely dwellings visited by human beings once -a century, generally under pressure of circumstance.</p> - -<p>At afternoon café we overhaul cameras—like the rest of -their outfit, the cameras of the Dons are of the best, as neat -as can be: and we pull out all the books on recent polar -work, which we and De Gisbert have between us, and discuss -the writers we know.</p> - -<p>Small floes are now on all sides, and mist. We run through -one small stream of ice, shoving the pieces aside, leaving our -green paint behind and some splinters on the jagged ice feet, -and it is rather a sensation for my friends, their first experience -of ice—then we heave to and drift. By-and-by we spot a -hooded-seal and our first watch goes to the bows in the -faint hope of getting a shot from board-ship, as we think -the movement in the small boat would spoil their aim, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span> -the seal understands and pops off the ice when we are eight -hundred yards off; so we retire to the cabin and the stove; -for it is beastly cold and damp, and write up journals and -almost wonder if we are not rather fools to come so far for -such disagreeable circumstances. Still in the back of our -minds we remember what a difference a little sunlight makes -in a polar scene.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>My first impressions of the Arctic ice compared to -Antarctic ice are distinctly disappointing, which -reminds me of my friend Dr Bruce’s first impressions -of the same. He had been in the Antarctic, then came -up here to join the Jackson Harmsworth expedition. For -several days they had been going through ice when he -remarked: “I would rather like to see one of your polar -icebergs.” “What!” they said, “you have passed a dozen of -them in the last two days. Why, there is one now,” and they -pointed to a piece of ice about seventy feet high, and about -two hundred feet in length. Bruce was silent. I remember -one of the first considerable bergs we saw in the South was -over two hundred feet in height and more than nine miles -long—we only saw one end of it! He had not quite realised -that an Arctic berg was so small a thing compared to the -majestic Antarctic bergs he had been familiar with off -Graham’s Land, and in the Weddell Sea. When grounded -and shoved up, the Antarctic bergs are sometimes several -hundred feet in height, and have, we know from soundings, -a total thickness of about one thousand feet.</p> - -<p>As we sat looking at the rather gloomy view—grey sea -and bits of bluish ice—one of us spotted a black speck away -down to leeward and the first watch bolted for their rifles -and we steamed down. Pop—pop—went the rifles, the -mausers at about fifty yards. A lucky shot drew “first -blood”—a small one-year-old hooded-seal. Great was the -rejoicing in our little community, and we forgot the cold and -dreary aspect, and dropped a boat and the seal was aboard -and flinched in no time.</p> - -<p>Then the writer turned in for one, also Archie, and the -señors made merry with a tiny drop of whisky and soda, -and were very well pleased. In my dreams I heard another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span> -shot and the engine stopped, and we crunched up against -ice, so I knew another seal had gone to the happy hunting -grounds; I showed a leg for half-a-minute, not more, it was -shivering cold on deck.</p> - -<p>Young Don Luis Velasquez had got the seal through -the head, first blood for his split new rifle, telescope -sight, etc.</p> - -<p>On this almost mild morning of pigeon-grey sky, light and -fine rain (8th July), we are passing through a wilderness of -ice pans and small floes and the soft grey sky is reflected -on the rippling lavender-coloured sea. The ice pans are -mostly blue and white, like blue muslin overlaid with white, -which shows almost emerald-green under the water. On -the pans are fresh-water pools reflecting soft grey of sky, -each pool surrounded by a rim of pale cobalt. So I wonder -if there is any blue paper on board to paint on, with white -body colour; that might secure the effect most rapidly. -And on some of the floes are seals lying at rest, whilst others -disport themselves as dolphins do in the sea, but we stop -not for these, for the lavender sky is deep in colour away -ahead, so we know there is more or less open water free of -ice, possibly leaving a road for us to Greenland’s ice-bound -strand. That is our object, slightly uncertain of -attainment, as it depends on the drift of the polar ice from -the North. In some years you can make the land easily—other -years it is unattainable.</p> - -<p>We keep a sharp look-out from the crow’s nest and bridge -and deck for the blow of a whale; possibly we may spot a -Nord Capper, or even the scarce Greenland Right Whale -Balæna Mysticetus, and lift £1000 or so. We have tackle -for them, but the finner whale on this trip we must leave -alone, he is too monstrous strong. I have written about their -capture in the first part of this book.</p> - -<p>Here we may meet a large male polar bear, for they venture -far afield. Nearer land we are likely to fall in with family -parties, females and cubs. Where the seals are, there are -the bears. It is a very curious thing about seals of the -Antarctic sea as compared with these Arctic seals, that you -very seldom see them in the South showing their heads above<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span> -water; either they are under water or entirely out and up -on the ice. I have seen many thousands there, and only -remember seeing about a dozen heads above water in several -months. And here again, or round our coasts, seals constantly -show their heads above water. Another odd difference -is that in the Southern Polar ice-seals make for the -middle of the ice-sheet if they feel any alarm. They expect -no harm to come to them on the ice. In fact, you can go up -to them and touch them. Here they waddle off as fast as their -flippers and caterpillar-like movements will take them, and -get into the water for security, the reason being, that in the -North they have bears and men and land animals to contend -with, and neither man, bear, nor any other land animal -exists down South. There the enemy is in the sea, the <i>orca -gladiator</i>, the grampus killer, which has most awful jaws -and teeth, to judge by the huge wounds one finds on the -bodies of these very great seals.</p> - -<p>All day we go under steam through the ice-floes, on each -quarter a different effect—north-east there is dark cloud, -with an ice-blink, a light streak on the clouds telling of a field -of pack ice—ahead there is darker lilac sky, telling of open -water, to our left and the south-west there is white ice and -white sky, blending in a blur of soft light, so we know there -is endless ice there. All of us, from the cabin boy on his -first trip, enjoy the colouring, these exquisite blues and greens -of the ice-tongues under water, and of the blues of the under-cut -ice, reflected on lavender-tinted ripples. I eagerly make -notes in colour, for my recollection of Antarctic ice tints is -fading. Yes, blue paper would be the thing to paint on. -Is it increase of years that makes me fail to see quite such -great beauty here as in the South? I incline to think the -colouring here is not quite so varied, possibly owing to the -lesser variety of ice-forms. One might compare the simpler, -flatter forms of the ice here and the fantastic shapes of the -Antarctic, as the lowlands appear in contrast to the rocks -and hills of the Highlands.</p> - -<p>My first impression of Antarctic ice in the Weddell -Sea was of bergs bigger than St Peter’s, miles in length,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span> -a hundred and fifty feet high, with lofty blue caves into -which you could sail a ship, the sea bursting up their green -depths from a huge glassy swell, around them small ice -like ruined Greek temples, floating lightly as feathers, such -marvellous forms! Here the ice is pretty, very pretty -indeed, but there is nothing awesome or staggeringly -wonderful in its design.</p> - -<p>We steamed north-westerly all forenoon; a thin haze came -down in the afternoon and the sun through the haze on -the ice-floes gives quite a fairylike appearance, even to our -somewhat rugged figures, when we scatter over the ice-floe, -which we did, and enjoyed the feeling of land, as it were.—Bump! -That would have upset an ink-bottle; now we lie -still, up against a floe with the Fonix’s nose against the -dazzling blue under-cut edge, and we throw the ice-anchor -and wire-cable over the bows and hammer it into the ice. -Later we towed her stern round and lay broadside to the -floe and put out planks for a gangway, and filled up our -water-tanks from a pale cobalt pond of fresh water. We -broke a bottle of champagne at this point of our proceedings—and -we all agreed it tasted rather better in the snow than -down South, and we shot at the empty bottle, and practised -lasso-throwing, getting our eye in against a rencontre with -seal or bear. Our little white ship that seemed so insignificant -down in Trömso now seems to rather dominate the -ice and seascape—twenty people inside the little vessel, -engines, harpoons, rifles, coals, heat and food, quite a concentrated -little cosmos of life and human contrivances—our -all, in this wide, empty Arctic world.</p> - -<p>Later we pushed on and the mist obscured our path again, -so we tied up against another floe, with shallow lakes of pale -Reckitt’s blue on it. Far in towards its centre two seals -lay on the snow, mere black dots, which I was about to go -after, when, observing a smile on the face of Larsen, a typical -blue-eyed hirsute Viking, I consulted with him and gathered -it was “no use.” “Hole in de ice,” he said, “dey go intil!” -Stupid beasts! I thought, there are points in favour -of the great tame creatures of the Antarctic which one -could approach and pat on the head before turning them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span> -into produce for patent leather, margarine, and olive -oil.<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> - -<p>We had a pull of about a mile in the evening in our whale-boat—three -double sculls—and attempted to approach four -seals on the floe edge, but they dived into the water. A -young member of the party came up and had a look at us, -and Archie put a very pretty shot from the moving boat into -its head at about ninety yards and we pulled it aboard -before it had time to sink.</p> - -<p>On the 9th July the air and mist were still southerly, and -there was nothing doing except painting ice studies, firing -at marks with our various rifles and pistols, shifting from one -floe to another and drifting southerly at about twenty miles -per day on the cold current, that brings the polar ice and -water down past East Greenland to keep the people in the -British Isles from becoming too slack. Our Spanish friends -are brisk as can be in the cold and damp, busy all day -stripping rifles, and pistols, and cameras, and putting them -up again with great deftness and neatness of hand and -clever nests of tools.</p> - -<p>At <i>aften-mad</i> a tiny seal (Vitulina) put its innocent little -face up astern, and Don Luis boldly seized Gisbert’s mannlicher -and snapped a bullet into it; the telescope was sighted -for a thousand yards at the time, but he got it all right.</p> - -<p>Gisbert and the skipper in the afternoon overhauled plans -for the Spanish Polar Expedition. I read some of the endless -literature on the subject, and pray inwardly that I may not -have to endure any more of either Arctic or Antarctic winter -weather, it is the summer and the long daylight of either end -of the world that I like. Heaven knows why the night was -invented. The comfort of awakening at midnight to find -the sun shining and no need for candles or matches is to me -beyond words.</p> - -<p>This day, the 10th July, has been more exciting—as I write -we are circling round a great polar bear that has taken to -the sea—we keep closing in between it and the ice-floes -and it goes snorting along, horribly disgusted at being<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span> -out-manœuvred. It is our third to-day! The mist lifted a -little in the afternoon—it was charming colour as it lifted -and faint blue appeared overhead, and the pools in the ice -were most delicate yellow set in snow of faintest pink, each -pool edged with emerald. Why the snow takes the delicate -tints in northern high latitudes, may someone else explain. -My devoir was to attempt its colour in paints, a much more -difficult thing than circumventing this poor old yellow bear -that I hear snuffing and puffing over the side. My companion, -Don Luis V., writes his notes beside me, and runs -out occasionally to see the bear that is waiting till the gun -of the watch (Don José) comes off the floe; it is his turn -to shoot. Don Luis got his first bear this afternoon. We -were plodding along beside a fairly big and rugged floe, -say a mile in length, with a seal or two on it, when someone -spotted the pale yellow object far away on the violet-tinted -snow, and as it was his watch, he and Gisbert and their men -set out over the floe to stalk it.</p> - -<p>The pale yellow coat of a beast on a white floe is less easily -distinguished than, say, a man in a black coat, and top hat -and umbrella. But unless one is colour-blind one cannot -accept its colouring as protective. I must argue this out -with my friend Dr Bruce when I return to town, for I see that -in his charming and instructive book, “Polar Research” -(which everyone should read who is the least interested in -either Arctic or Antarctic regions), he thinks the tint of some -piece of ice, coloured yellow by algæ, is so like the colour of -a bear that seals may be misguided enough to mistake him -for yellow ice. No, no. Bruin’s black nose and eyes you can -see for miles, and so too you can distinguish his lemon-yellow -coat, almost green in the shadow with the snow’s -reflection.</p> - -<p>As proof of even the bear’s belief to the contrary of this -protective colouring theory, he will hold his yellow paws -over his black nose, so I am told, when stalking a seal; and -I can vouch myself that one endeavoured to hide both his -black nose and yellow body when he stalked me.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus25"> -<img src="images/illus25.jpg" width="700" height="400" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Reloading Gun with Harpoon</span></p> -<p class="caption">Note the explosive point of the harpoon is not yet screwed on.</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus26"> -<img src="images/illus26.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Towing Archie Hamilton’s Big Bear’s Skin</span></p> -<p class="caption">Hamilton and Gisbert are in the rear.</p> -</div> - -<p>The most prominent thing on a floe, bar a bear, is a piece -of brown ice, or yellow ice patch, the first coloured by land<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span> -streams, the second coloured by sea algæ. You swing your -glass round and round the horizon, with nothing to mark -your direction on some days, when the sun is behind clouds, -and keep time, and mark your place, by a yellow or brown -patch. Therefore for a bear to resemble either is to court -observation.</p> - -<p>The next most interesting thing to stalking a bear, or -being stalked by one, is to watch and criticise a stalk from -the superior position of looker-on. It was the greatest fun -imaginable to watch with the glass the little dots of figures, -mere black specks, wandering over the distant floe. Of -course, from your position on the bridge you can watch both -the movements of the bear and the hunters, and sometimes -their cross purposes make you laugh at the poor human -mistakes. In this case the hunters came off best, but without -the vessel the bear would have had the best of the competition. -He got down wind of the group of hunters, Don -Luis Velasquez, De Gisbert, and two men—sniffed the air and -came hurtling along in the opposite direction and took to sea, -half-a-mile from the Fonix, which we had anchored to the -floe, and off it swam to a neighbouring island of ice, about -half-a-mile away, so we up-sticked and headed it round till -the hunters came off the floe in the boat, and the poor yellow -fellow got first a bullet in the neck, which enraged it and -changed the colour of the sea, then, after several more shots, -a lucky one in the brain ended its charmed life. He may have -left no friends, but he died without enemies to be afraid of, -bar man—and we did not even find a flea on it; which was -disappointing, but what was to be expected.</p> - -<p>We think the Eskimos have met the bears here, owing -to the bears’ retiring manners, which are not characteristics -of these polar bears in less populous parts of the polar -basin. It is not a fortunate ending to a stalk to have to -shoot your game in the water. Still our friend fired several -shots before he got the deadly one into the brain, but there -is some excuse—a heavy tramp over snow-fields after a beast -that, say what you will, takes a little nerve to approach for -the first time, and then the bobbing boat might upset even -a very experienced shot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span></p> - -<p>It was a great lift getting his body on board, we hooked the -chain of the winch round its neck, let on steam, and up it -came to the boom on the foremast, and hung dripping over -the deck.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I will here quote a line or two from Scoresby’s book on -Greenland. He was the wonderful combination of almost -a self-made man, a recognised authority as a scientist and -splendid whaler.</p> - -<p>I make this quotation to give some weight to the serious -side of polar bear hunting. Nowadays it is rather the -fashion to minimise dangers on land or sea. And in the time -of Scoresby it was also more or less the fashion, but he frankly -says: “I do not try to minimise the risks of sea life and -whaling,” and he gives due thanks to his Maker for many -hair-breadth escapes which we to-day might put down too -much to our own efforts and straight powder.</p> - -<p>“When the bear is found in the water,” he continues, -“crossing from one sheet of ice to another, it may generally -be attacked with advantage; but when on the shore, or -more especially when it is upon a large sheet of ice, covered -with snow—on which the bear, supporting itself on the surface, -with its extended paws, can travel with twice the speed of a -man, who perhaps sinks to the knee at every step—it can -seldom be assailed with either safety or success. Most of the -fatal accidents that have occurred with bears have been the -result of rencounters on the ice, or injudicious attacks made -at such disadvantage.”</p> - -<p>I am inclined to think that each person feels differently -about approaching a bear on the ice; depending on temperament -and age. Personally I feel a faint chill—such as you -have before diving off a rock into the sea, and after success -something of the glow you have after you come out. But I -rather think that younger people have a similar sensation -before and after, only stronger. In fact, so strong as at -first to make them a little pale, to upset their aim, and -afterwards to make them gloriously jubilant.</p> - -<p>The naked feeling, I am sure, is there, clothes and ordinary -surroundings are of no account, there is the snow, the sky,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span> -and the big bear hundreds of times more powerful than -yourself—and there is your rifle. Before you dive into the -sea, you know you can swim a stroke or two; before you -wander over the floe to Bruin, you know all you have to -trust to is your aim, and your rifle.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing28.jpg" width="500" height="450" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>I continue these bear-shooting notes this evening, -Friday, 11th July. I know it is evening from a faint -blush of pink on the snow that is just perceptible; -without this I would have lost all idea of time, for since -yesterday it has been all bear-hunting and no sleep. Now -we have a bear alongside, all alive-o! He is tied with a -rope and is swimming just like a man, hard astern, trying to -tow our little whaler from the floe-edge; and he roars every -now and then in angry disgust, and then turns up his hind -quarters and dives and swims a few strokes under water, -only to be pulled up again on the rope or lasso. He can swim -apparently without fatigue for many hours, occasionally -taking a dive as deep as the lasso will allow him. We hope -to get him to our Edinburgh Zoological Park, where he will -be much appreciated, especially by myself and other artists -and children and seniors.</p> - -<p>He is the last of six bears in twenty-four busy hours. Don -Luis Velasquez and Don José Herrero each got their first -bears, one after the other, but unfortunately both were in -the water. Don José’s, the last, led us a very far chase over -miles of floe and ice-covered sea.</p> - -<p>The most fascinating part of the day was watching the -bear’s abandon of movement and joy as it did its evening -saunter over the floes, utterly oblivious of our presence and -probably full of young seal fat and joy; when it came across -the stem of a drifted pine—it was as good as a circus. How -it joked with the pine log, on its back on the snow, played -the guitar with it, caressed it, then spumed it in disdain -with its great soft hind foot, only to take it up in its teeth -again to wave it slowly about. In the middle of this solitary -play, however, the bear’s seventh sense told it there was -something impending and he left his cherished stick and -paddled off leisurely down wind and floe—then he got the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span> -wind of the guns and went off pretty fast for a mile or so, -occasionally stopping to sniff the breeze. At his easy rate -of motion he quickly left Don José and his contingent -behind—little black spots in the world of white plains and -hummocks. Did the reader ever see a bear fairly out for a -walk, and notice the extraordinary resemblance there is -between the movements of a bear in the open and those of a -ferret—shorten the ferret’s body and its tail and you have -something very like a microscopic bear, the long back, the -way they each wave their snouts and stand up on their -hind-quarters to sniff the breeze—beyond doubt, it is funny. -I do not think it is really undignified, but when someone -says that its movements suggest its having received a violent -kick on its hind-quarters, you cannot get the idea out of your -mind; and whatever its sex, or however big and powerful -he may be, you must smile at the way he carries his tail down. -Is their strength not marvellous? A large fellow here -was waiting for a seal at a hole in the ice, and a blue seal -(Phoca Barbata) just showed itself, and apparently to take the -chance, with one swoop of his forearm and claws, the bear -threw the great six-hundred-pound seal well on to the ice, -and with a forefoot on its back, broke the head off at one -bite and drank the blood and wolfed up every bit of skin and -blubber; for the meat or cran, and bones, the bear, like the -human, has no use, unless he is hard pressed.</p> - -<p>Of course it is a big old bear which can do such a feat, -possibly twenty years old and much bigger and broader in the -quarter and shoulder than you can expect to find in Europe -in confinement. Archie Hamilton got such a veteran this -morning, quite comfortably, after twelve-o’clock breakfast. -With De Gisbert and some men they sallied forth over the -floe we were up against to deprive two bears thereon of their -skins and lives—that is, if the bears did not in the first -instance deprive them of theirs.</p> - -<p>It was fascinating watching the little figures growing -smaller and smaller in the distance, and to watch the soft, -pale yellow heap that represented the ice-bear. I have a -splendid glass, and at half-a-mile can distinguish the gloriously -luxurious rolls and movements of the great fellow and note<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span> -the black nose and black soles of his feet as he stretches -himself, and scrapes a bed in the snow for his midday -siesta.</p> - -<p>With the glass I see Archie get into soft snow and stoop -and point the rifle and get up, and I wonder why, when he -does this again, and I swing my glass on to the bear and -notice a flush come over its yellow back, and there is a spout -of red from its side; though I see so clearly I hear no sound -of the shot. Five times Archie hit his Majesty, all in more -or less deadly places, but he came on and girned at them -and wanted to chaw them up, a fighting bear. Five -350 magnum bullets shattering bone and muscle actually -knocking over the big beast, yet not destroying its fight, -gives an idea of the muscle of such a full-grown snowy -chief. He measured, as he lay, eight feet two inches—that -is, from nose to tail; standing up on his bare feet, -he would have stood ten and a half feet and his estimated -weight was one thousand and twenty pounds. As our -estimate was founded on steelyard weights of many other -bears and their measurements, this may be accepted as -correct.</p> - -<p>Personally, a foot or a point or two about a beast, or a ton -or two’s weight in a whale does not matter to me very much, -it is the fun of the stalk that counts—be it for a rabbit, bear, -or fingerling trout, the dew on the clover or the icicles on -the berg—and how you get your beast, and what you see -on the way to it, for things get impressed on memory by the -excitement of a stalk, in a way they would never be at other -times. If you have to crawl, for example, through a shallow -blue pool on a snow-field in the early morning, as was my -experience to-day, to get within shot of a bear that suspects -you, you note the queer blue tint of the pool that soaks -through your waistcoat—that it is sometimes blue, and -sometimes purple, depending on the angle at which the light -strikes the ice crystals under or on its surface. And there -is plenty of time to speculate why you do not see such pools -on the floes in the Antarctic.</p> - -<p>From the ship when we spotted the bear alluded to above, -and until it was killed, in fact, we thought it was very large,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span> -but it turned out to be not half the size of the big fellow -C. A. H. has secured.</p> - -<p>He and De Gisbert and I set out after it together. But -the only way, I thought at the time, to get within shot without -scaring it was to do a regular deer-stalk crawl of a hundred -yards to get behind an isolated piece of rounded snow, just -big enough to cover one person. So I left Gisbert and -Hamilton behind a bigger hummock as covering party -and proceeded at great leisure, ventre à terre, to approach -the said piece of snow, I do not think that ursus got my -wind, but possibly the noise of my elbow crunching through -a hard crust of the snow drew his attention, and I saw a -black eye and the -dark ear of the -right side of his -face peering round -the little lump of -snow, then his black -left eye looked -round the other side -of the hummock, -and then both eyes -and black nose were -gently raised over -the top—we were -stalking each other!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing29.jpg" width="400" height="325" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>From subsequent experience I have learned that my -stalking was rather wasted, as a bear will always come to -the attack if you are alone. I liked his expression, what -I saw of it, but either he did not like mine or he got an -inkling that there was a covering party in the rear, for he -suddenly seemed to think of something and turned and very -sedately walked away to the left, with his head down. So I, -also sedately, I hope, sat up on the soft snow and pulled at -his shoulder at about fifty yards, and he collapsed, and then -got up and pelted away to the right, the writer following, -both of us tumbling and pulling ourselves up again in the -soft snow and hummock. It took other two shots (375 -cordite), both fairly well placed, to end its troubles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span></p> - -<p>The stalk and trying to sit up on the snow crust to draw -a bead on the light primrose fur of the soft-looking beast, -how vividly that will make all the delicate mother-of-pearl -tints of the ice scene remain in my memory!</p> - -<p>It is a wonder that animal painters, some of them quite -distinguished, do not as a rule take the trouble to go and -study their animals in their proper surroundings. What -numbers of pictures we see of snow-leopards, bears, and such-like, -done excellently up to a point, but with none of their -natural atmosphere. The white bear with its pale primrose -colour needs the shimmer and pearl-like tints of its natural -surroundings, the blues and greens of the floe, veiled a little -by fine snow or mist, and the hard ice, to set off its rounded -soft furry form that hides such terrible strength. How -could anyone, for example, hope to paint a caribou, with its -glory of russet horns, unless he has seen its grey face and -white neck amongst silver birch stems and the red glow of -maples?</p> - -<p>To do the ice-bear justice, you should first splash on to -canvas the shimmer of mother-of-pearl, then inset the comic -kicked-on-the-hind-quarter figure in yellow, give the humour -and preserve his strength and majesty at the same time, so -you’d have a masterpiece. At a school or zoological garden -or museum you can learn anatomy and painting, but outside -work is essential for the true animal painter. There -he must forget bones and muscles and get the envelope of -air and colour of the animal and its surroundings.</p> - -<p>But to come back to our bear-hunting. As our party -returned from the hunt, the men spread out left and right, -covering about a mile, and so roped in a younger bear, which -had been hanging about to leeward of the old male bear which -Hamilton shot. Why it did so we cannot say. It was -cheery work for the men, running about as beaters sometimes -do at a drive when a hare gets up and tries to get back. It -was a little shy of them, but did not seem to mind the ship; -in fact it came right up to us and we got a boat down. It -then tried to run down the floe edge and outflank beaters, -but Larsen, a long, fair-haired, blue-eyed fellow, got ahead -and fired bullets into ice in front of its nose—range about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span> -four yards, and it got disquieted and turned back to the ship, -then slipped over the floe-edge into the sea, and we rowed -after it, and a sailor made a dozen poor attempts to cast a -lasso over its neck; he bungled it over somehow and we -towed it, using dreadful language at us, alongside, and -afterwards got it on board into a cage.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus27"> -<img src="images/illus27.jpg" width="700" height="550" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The Last Cartridge</span></p> -<p class="caption">A fighting Bear.</p> -<p class="caption"><i>From a Painting by the Author</i></p> -</div> - -<p>I think this recapitulates our bearing for twenty-four -hours rather concisely. It does not quite convey the slight -chill you feel at setting out, on however beautiful and silvery -a morning, at, say, five o’clock, after being up all night, to -wade across ice and snow to face the horrible and dangerous -Ursus Maritimus, or white monarch of the pole, and it does -not give the calm sense of conceit that you feel when you -have succeeded in slaughtering the same, and preserving your -skin; it would be bad form to express such sentiments loud -out. The only sign our Spanish friends showed was that they -were a little sallow when they set out, and a little warmer -in colour on their return. A. C. H. quotes Neil Munro -to express his feeling. “Man,” he says, “am feeling shust -sublime—could poo the mast oot o’ the ship an’ peat a Brussels -carpet.” No wonder, lucky fellow, a one-thousand-and-twenty-pounder -for his first polar bear. His first black -bear we thought mighty big a year or two ago, away back -in the barrens of Newfoundland; it weighed three hundred -and eighty pounds. Which is best to eat, polar or black -bear, it is hard to say. I vote for black bear pre salé and -fed in the blueberry season. Still, the meat of the polar -bears here is extremely good and feels strengthening. One -needs strengthening. Yesterday was high summer, just -touching freezing, but still and a little sunny; to-night a gale -from north-east and cold, and ice driving gently round us.</p> - -<p>But I am not complaining! No—I’ve been a summer -and autumn in Antarctic ice. After the bad days and black -nights there in January and February, nothing north of the -Line need be considered as intolerable.</p> - -<p>One note before winding up this day’s reckoning. If you -wish to think of the Arctic or Antarctic, you must think in -colour somehow or other. If you think in black and white -you miss the idea, and form a wrong impression all in black<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span> -and white, just as I used to have from engravings, and which -it is very difficult to put aside. North Polar and South -Polar regions are essentially places of very high-toned delicate -colour, almost the only black is what you bring with you; -mother-of-pearl and birch-bark tints you have, and grimness -there is in dead earnest, dangers and minor discomforts, but -it’s all in lovely colour in high note.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is my watch and Gisbert’s to-night, but I am going to -turn in after writing this; two nights without sleep make -one feel inclined -to ride out this -gale behind a floe -in one’s bunk—pipe, -matches and -book, and practice -chanter, all within -arm’s-length, and -jolly comfortable it -is; for, as Marcus -Aurelius puts it: -“If a man can live -in a palace, he can -live there well.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> -<img src="images/drawing30.jpg" width="425" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I forgot to say -we got our Bruin -on board, after a -terrible fight and -some blood lost, -human and bear’s. We got a strop round his waist -when we had pulled him alongside with the lasso, and -hauled him up in the air by the steam-winch, the chain -and hook fast in the strop. I think this little drawing -explains the method; it’s a most kindly and considerate treatment. -I mention this to ease the mind of some people who -concluded that a picture in this book of a bear hung by the -head was a live bear being lifted on board instead of being -a bear that had been shot for an attempt on our lives on the -ice. Whalers and sealers and bear-hunters I have found<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span> -just as humane and gentle a people as those who stay at home -and often criticise them unkindly. We led the lasso under -the floor bars of a big wooden cage which we made to-day; -three men hauled his head down. Then we lowered him into -the cage, and whilst he tried to free his head, battens were -rapidly nailed on over his back. So he is on board, but not -all right, it is quite possible he may pull away a batten to-night. -He is busy carpentering, and has already got one -spar off. I would prefer his going overboard to looking me -up in my bunk.</p> - -<p>It blew all night, so we all rested and had European -breakfast at leisure at nine. I did a picture of a bear I saw -yesterday, Archie’s bear. It is munching the head of a young -hooded-seal, Cystophora Cristata, of which we saw over forty -in one lot yesterday. I also did a picture, from notes at the -time, of the jolly lonely bear playing with a piece of drift-wood, -lying on its back and tossing away the wood with his -hind foot, just before he got up, suspecting there was something -in the wind, and before going off over the floe down -wind at that easy gait that leaves poor man such miles -behind whenever there is soft snow to negotiate.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>No whales yet, never a blow, no chance to use our -harpoon-guns from the ship’s bows or from the boats, -so we keep their covers on. What patience is needed -for whaling! Two seasons ago a friend of mine, a captain -of a Dundee whaler, was up this north-east coast of Greenland -with a big crew for three months, and got only one whale and -one bear. Then, with luck, you may get several in one day, -I have never yet seen more than three killed in the twenty-four -hours; but I have done nine months’ whaling with three -whalers and killed none! That is rather a record.</p> - -<p>... The wind is easterly, the worst we could have for -getting in to North-East Greenland, for it is driving the floes -inshore. We are once more anchored to a floe and wait till -the weather clears, for it is too windy and misty to make -good progress. We are still about seventy-five degrees -north and a hundred and thirty miles from the coast, and -there is an unusual amount of ice between us and it, so we -may not reach it after all.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Whales at last! Narwhals! the fellows with long ivory -horns. The steward spotted them first as he was cleaning -a dish at the galley door; he came running aft with a blush -of excitement on his face, and we saw their backs, three of -them, and dashed for the whale-boat, but before we got -away the whales had disappeared! It was ever thus. They -are the most illusive whales. “A uni, a uni,” I have heard -our Dundee whalers shout down south in the Antarctic, and -they too disappeared without scathe.</p> - -<p>But are there narwhals in the South, you ask. Well, this -is all I can say, our men said they saw them. I did not. -Their word “uni” stands for unicorn or narwhal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span></p> - -<p>De Gisbert’s experience is similar; he has only killed -females with small horns or no horns. But with the beginner’s -luck, a friend of his in his first season in the Arctic—Count -Thurn—got one with an immense horn of splendid -ivory; we must have patience then. Does the reader know -what they do with these horns? No one here can give a -definite opinion. Scoresby, the celebrated English Greenland -whaler and scientific observer, suggests that it may be -used for killing fish for their food. He found a portion of -skate inside one, and as they have small mouths and no -teeth, he concluded the horn must have been used to kill -the skate. His undoubted ability and his education in -science in Edinburgh University give considerable weight -to his conclusion.</p> - -<p>The little excitement of narwhal-hunting broke the stillness -of rather a monotonous evening of mist and fine rain. -Pretty enough, though, for a little sunlight penetrates the -mist, giving the snow the faintest warm flesh tint, a pleasing -contrast to the green and blue underside of the snow blocks -on the floe to which we are anchored. We can study these -delicate snow tints through our cabin door, as we sit at -meals, always hoping that a whale may blow in the still -water, or a bear may cross the delicate tints of the middle -distance. Our language at table is in Spanish, French, and -Norwegian. Archie and I sometimes speak in our Doric for -a change. The talk is generally about whaling or hunting -of various kinds; here and there, east, west, north, south, -Norway, Alaska, Bohemia, Arctic or Antarctic, with a certain -amount of more or less scientific discussion about natural -history and the elements. De Gisbert is the hub or centre -of the party; he drops from one language to the other with -the greatest ease. We talk a good deal about the coming -Spanish National Polar Scientific Expedition which he is -to lead, and to which the writer is asked to give a “Scotch -escort” to a point with an unpronounceable name east of -the Lena river; no polar sprint this, but a serious effort -to read the inmost secrets of the North Polar basin, by every -means known to modern science. An attempt to find answers -to all the riddles put before mankind, the why and wherefore<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span> -of tides, ocean currents, temperature, colouring, electrical -currents and air currents—information about subjects we -know a little of, and, possibly, secrets of nature not yet -dreamed of.</p> - -<p>Then we turned in early for us, for last night’s damp -and mist and the quiet of the sea seemed to make us somnolent, -so by twelve o’clock we were mostly to bed, except -the steward, whose galley is next my bunk. He and the -first mate and cook, a female cook we brought from Trömso, -were having a quiet concert. They made a group like a -picture of the Dutch school; the steward in half light, in -a white jacket, trolling out an air to the guitar, our jolly, -beamy <i>vivandière</i> and the mate sitting opposite, almost -(or as you may say, quite) on each other’s knees in the tiny -quarters, cups, dishes, and vegetables round them.</p> - -<p>The steward, Pedersen, was pathetic to-day about the -<i>vivandière</i>, he noted a chip in a cup at breakfast and gazed -at it mournfully and sighed: “She is so mush too sdrong dis -she-cook of ours.” She is strong, and red-cheeked, it is true, -and very beamy and has a laugh and a word for everyone. -She was one of the few who were not sick coming over from -Norway, and though so broad and strong, she nipped about -between the seas like an A.B., and laughed when the cold -sea-water came up to her knees. I back Norwegian she-cooks -against the field.</p> - -<p>I have written down what a tricky musician is this steward, -he keeps a music shop in Trömso in winter, his wife and -kinderen look after it in summer, when the midnight sun -appears, then he attends princes and humble people like -ourselves, who go in search of whales, or adventures; or -scientific data to this “end of the garden,” where you have -sun and winter in midsummer, fog, snow, drifting ice-floes, -sun, heat, cold, huge energy, a great deal of beauty, and -astounding repose. But why this restfulness here? we all -did at least eight to ten hours last night. Neither the -writer, nor De Gisbert, nor some others of our party ever -do so much at a spell down South. And at any time in -the twenty-four hours one can be awake or go to sleep with -equal facility—appetites go up wonderfully, we simply wade<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span> -through bear steak. I noticed the smallest of our Spanish -friends, who would blush to face a whole egg in Madrid -on a July morning, calmly got outside four this morning, -each with its slice of bear; he has slept a good deal since. -We consider that he is a pucca shikari and also a born actor; -it is pure joy to watch his movements of hands and face and -body as he and Gisbert jestingly argue out a subject. He -told us last night how the wine tasters in South Spain can -throw a glass of wine into the air in a thin stream, and catch -it all in the glass again as it falls. You see he is showing -how it is done. He threw up a glass of -pontet canet, but instead of falling back -into the glass it all went down his neck -and wrist. We laughed some, then he dried -himself and went on to show us something -else, every now and then popping his head -out at the cabin door to see if anything -was stirring on the ice-floes.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> -<img src="images/drawing31.jpg" width="225" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Some of my friends plan making a great -sanatorium up in these latitudes on claims -which we have pegged out in Spitzbergen, -so that people who cling to life may go there to get -rid of tubercular complaints. There is not an atom -of a germ there, so people with chest complaints recover -there on the land. But you can have persistent colds on -board a vessel, I suppose because of germs belonging to it. -Some vessels seem to breed a plentiful supply. I know a -vessel that carries colds for all hands on every trip. It is, -I believe, somewhat similar with scurvy.</p> - -<p>We got a very ugly brown shark this morning, one of those -deep-sea Arctic sharks (Squalus Borealis) that do not follow -ships, but live away down fifty fathoms deep and possibly -eat cod. Why he came up it is hard to say; possibly he -scented seal. We welcomed him with a harpoon as he swam -alongside, and got a running bowline round his tail, and slung -him alongside, head down, till he nearly died. He was only -ten feet eight inches, a rough brown ugly beggar, not so -fierce-looking or active as those blue sharks we killed last -year, off the Azores, for eating our sperm-whale blubber.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span> -There is a Norwegian fishery for these sharks, for the oil -contained in their livers, which is used largely in commerce -as cod liver oil; chemically it is exactly the same. These -sharks are too big to pull on board the fishing-boats, so they -are only hauled alongside, when the liver is cut out and the -stomach is blown up with air, and stitched up; so they go off -on the surface; if they went deep down their relatives would -eat them and neglect the Norwegians’ baits. The vitality of -this shark’s flesh tissue is remarkable. After this one had -lost its whole machinery, its flesh still lived, and after its -head was off, both flesh and head moved. A seal I shot -this morning, after rather an interesting stalk over soft -snow and blue lakes, shot clean through the brain, showed -the heart beating a long time after.</p> - -<p>I once wrote rather a lurid and perhaps too colourful -a picture of seal-killing, in the South, and the paragraph has -been made use of by people who will not eat flesh, but wear -boots, and they showed how cruel sealers were, and wished -to stop them killing seals—honest fellows, risking their lives -in Antarctic ice and Newfoundland floes to keep their wives -and children in life at home. The seal may lose its brain -with a crashing shot and then its skin and fat for olive oil, -or for our chair-seats, shoes and salads, but that it feels -pain after the shock, or that the sealers are to blame, I -deny.</p> - -<p>Our port white bear at any rate approves of the seal and -shark killing; he hates the wooden cage, but doesn’t he -swallow the seal’s blubber which we squeeze between the -battens, and he simply laps up the sharks’ foie gras in heaps. -He gave me such a scare this morning; I had forgotten his -presence and was counting the toes on a seal’s hind foot for -pictorial purposes and examining the formation of the dead -bears’ heads quite close to his cage, when he let out a roar -within an inch of my ear. I confess I was startled! He is -only three to four years old, still he probably weighs well over -three hundred pounds and has a voice according.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;" id="illus28"> -<img src="images/illus28.jpg" width="400" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Arctic Shark</span>, <i>Squalus Borealis</i></p> -<p class="caption"><i>Photo by C. A. Hamilton</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus29"> -<img src="images/illus29.jpg" width="700" height="525" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Modern Steam Whaler</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">The harpoon has just struck a Whale. The Dolphins give a sense of -proportion of the Finner Whale.</p> -<p class="caption"><i>From an Oil Painting by the Author</i></p> -</div> - -<p>To shoot a seal this morning I used De Gisbert’s telescope-sighted -mauser rifle, a new experience, the accuracy is marvellous -and up here that is necessary, as seals are wary. Down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span> -South you pat them on the head if you like before you shoot; -they do not mind your presence in the least. I find wading -stockings are perhaps better than sea-boots for these melting -floes, as you go sometimes over the knees, in the blue -water pools and in the soft snow. Also you can turn them -inside out to dry, which you can’t do to sea-boots.</p> - -<p>The seal was fairly large and had three or four awful -gashes, of a foot or two in length, which were put down to -either a bear’s teeth or claws.</p> - -<p>It snows to-night—it is dead calm, broad daylight, but -cold and no sun visible, floes all round and our hopes are -going down; we fear we may never see Greenland’s icy -mountains and the saxifrages and poppies that I have set -my heart on seeing. So we sat and sat in the silence and -made belief that time was passing all right, and quite enjoyed -a small excitement. A squeak—I would not call it a -squeal—from our “too-strong she-cook.” She was cutting -up a piece of shark for our dinner, and suddenly noticed that -it responded to her touch—sentience of matter, you may call -it. I felt it was most unpleasing for some reason—it was -quite white flesh like halibut, and lay in a small block on the -bulwark rail, and when you touched it it gave a squirm or -movement of say a quarter to half an inch. We all collected -round; and at supper we ate it, some of us did—I did not—at -least only the tiniest morsel. It began to feel rather dull, -so I suggested to Gisbert we should get the foils out and we -would fence on deck in the falling snow, and Archie would -photograph us and we would send the result to “Lescrime,” -and we were just buttoning up our leather jackets for the -fray, when young Don Luis Velasquez put his glass up -at our cabin door and spotted a bear on a small floe not -three hundred yards away, eating seal. We thought it was -probably the sealskin and blubber of my morning’s seal, -which we had let go adrift, owing to the sores the bear’s -claws had left on it, making it dangerous for the hands -engaged to skin it. <i>Pusey</i> finger we called the wounds in -the Antarctic which we got from cutting up seals that had -been torn by a grampus. Though colds are rare in Arctic -regions, and consumption is said not to exist, yet often sores<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span> -take long to heal; cuts on the hands, for example, often take -a long time to grow fresh skin.</p> - -<p>So our quiet Sabbath evening became all excitement, and -we dived for rifle, pistol, and lasso; the lasso because we -could see the bear was not full grown, possibly a three-year-old, -and we hoped we might get it alive. As we raced down—four -oars in the whale-boat—I endeavoured to get some of -the frozen stiffness out of the rope and got it into coils in the -bow, and before I had completely done so, we were down -wind and near the bear. It stared at us and made rather a -sudden and alarming approach to the floe-edge, as if it intended -to come on board. I expected to lasso it on the ice, -but it plunged into the sea and came up within ten yards. -At the first throw the loop dropped neatly round its head -and sank a little, and a hard pull and a turn round the -bollard or timber-head in the bow made the bear fast. -Cheers from the men and roars from the bear, and Gisbert’s -congratulations; he was surprised at such a cast from -his pupil. (But he was not half so surprised as I was.) -It was very pretty as it stood looking at our approach in the -boat, faint yellow, darker than snow; two black tashes for -eyes, one for nose and two dark marks for ears, and the red -of the seal’s flesh and skin on the snow—very simple colours, -very delicate pale emerald-green and blue on the ice. When -it came running at us it was too picturesque! We towed it -alongside the ship, gnashing its teeth and roaring, where it -swam about, expressing its disgust, in language I dare not -quote, at the rope round its neck and its inability to tow the -ship away. It may be too big and strong for us to manage -on board—probably measures eight feet from nose to heel -and is three to four years old; six-month cubs are what we -can handle more easily, and even at that age they are wonderfully -strong. Gisbert told me he lassoed a cub, and was -throwing an extra hitch round its forearm, when it got -alongside him, put one hand on his chest, and he went down -like grass, and he is short and very strong, and is quite -fourteen stone; he got his arm rather badly bitten. All -hands set to work to make another strong timber cage, and -they had it done almost before I had made a picture of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span> -bear as it looked at us approaching in the boat, and long -before Ursus showed any fatigue from swimming and roaring.</p> - -<p>Then there was wild work in the boat getting the strop -round its waist—oaths and foam, and flying ropes—donkey-engine—roars -from the bear—shouts from the men—steam, -and bear’s hot breath, all mixed up. But out it came, only -as strong perhaps as two or three wild horses, and we managed -to drop it into the top of the cage, hauling its head down -with the lasso rove through the bottom bars of the cage, and -banged down battens on top, with great eight-inch nails -driven in, by six or seven strong Vikings, Gisbert leading -and having all they could do. Then we cut the lasso and -he was free of the loop in a second or two. So we have two -live bears now, possibly polar cousins. The first is to port, -the second to starboard of main-hatch, and their deep voices -give a strong accompaniment to our progression. They -have no qualms about eating; they tear the timber of their -cage and eat seal’s fat from our hand alternately.</p> - -<p>It is my early watch to-day, three <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> to nine <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>, till -welcome coffee-time. There is nothing doing, no whale’s spout -and no bears appear. Still one never knows, so Olaus paces -the foredeck with his hands deep in his pockets and Larsen -works away quietly at the bear meat, taking off every bit of -the fat, so that it will be good for our table. I write in our -little chart-room on the bridge, with a view all round of floes -of ice extending right round the horizon; we are anchored -to one—in its shelter. The wind is falling and it is very -quiet; there is the lap, lap of the small waves against the -green edge of the floe, the tweet, tweet of some ivory gulls, -and the homely barn-door-fowl-like cluck, cluck of the -fulmar petrels, as they squabble and splutter under the -stern for scraps of food, not forgetting the frequent low, deep -growls of the bear we lassoed last night. His companion, -our first capture, is asleep, possibly dreaming that it is free, -poor fellow! So I study my immediate surroundings without -interruption. A flight of ivory gulls has just come and -has lit beside us on the floe. They are white as this paper -and yet not quite so white as snow; they have dark beaks -and feet and black eyes, so what you see when they stand in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span> -order on the pinkish white snow is a series of almost invisibly -yellowish white upright sort of sea-birds, which you would -not notice at all, but for their dark legs and eyes and bills.</p> - -<p>If there happens to be one of the pale blue ice ponds just -beyond them, then you see them white against it distinctly, -and the blue is reflected under their bodies as they stand -beside the pool, or when they rise and flit over it it shines -under their wings. They always stand bills up wind, as if -they had come from somewhere and expected something, -but are not particularly anxious about it. They do not -seem to be excited about the flesh we throw into the snow -at this early hour; later they all start to eat it at once. -The fulmars seem to eat all the time. These yellowish -white birds with chalky-grey and brown wings are always -with us, round our stern, battling ever about scraps of seals’ -blubber; there is quite a homely farm-door sound about -their cluck, cluck. Seamen say they are reincarnated souls -of men lost at sea—rather a far-fetched idea, to my mind. -Then there comes a Richardson’s skua. We need a specimen -for Edinburgh Museum, so I drop it on the floe with no -compunction; it is the sea-birds’ pirate and has a touch -of the cuckoo’s plumage under its wings. It neither reaps -nor sows, simply lives by cheek. When a simple fulmar has -filled itself with what it can get, fish or fowls or little cuttle-fish -and minute shrimps, by dint of hard work and early -rising, then by comes Mr Skua of quick flight, and ingeniously -attacks the fulmar from behind and underneath, till -it disgorges its breakfast and the skua catches it up before it -reaches the water!</p> - -<p>Though our ice-scape is very remote and far afield, and -subdued in sound and in colour, there is a great deal going -on. At the floe-edge there are reddish shrimps in the clear -cold water, and if you take some of the water in a glass, you -will see still more minute crustaceans, a joy of delicate -coloured armour under the microscope. And there is inorganic -life amongst the ice; a blue block has just come sweeping -past very slowly—it is like blue and white muslin. But -big life, bar our three selves on deck this morning, there -seems to be none. All the rest of our crowd are sound asleep<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span> -below decks. I think they should be up and doing, for the -sky is lifting and the snow ceased and there is more and more -animation amongst our bird neighbours. The ivory gulls -find it is breakfast-time and suddenly set to work, pecking -at pieces of meat they barely glanced at an hour ago. There -is a promise of movement—possibly of our finding a way -through the purple leads, through these sheets of ice-floes to -Greenland in the west. Yes, there is more colour now, the -white night is changing almost unnoticeably, and the ivory -gulls begin to call before they take another flight (they -speak just like our sea-swallows or terns, a tweet, tweet). -On first seeing an ivory gull you are not greatly impressed; -it is simply an entirely white gull. But you recall Arctic -travellers mentioning it, and the little pause they make after -its name; and when you see them yourself you realise what -that means ... that little creamy white body that reflects -the grey of the sea under its wing, or the blue in the pool on -ice-floes, its inconsequent floating white flight is the very -soul of the Arctic. As closely associated with the ice-edge -there is another white bird in the Antarctic, the snowy -petrel, a delicate white spirit bird, a never-to-be-forgotten -touch of white delicacy in the almost awful beauty of the -Antarctic floe-edge, a small bird, white and soft as a snow-flake, -flitting amongst white and Doric ruins on the edge of -a lonely sea. Here the white counterpart is a larger, a more -material creature on the edge of a shallower, less impressive -ice-pack, but the kinship is there.</p> - -<p>How I wish it was breakfast-time! two more hours before -our “much too strong she-cook” will give us <i>frokost</i>.</p> - -<p>At this point in these meditations we came across another -bear; we had let go our floe and were heading north-west, -the day clearing (bump! that was ice), when we spotted him -on a small floe, across which he sped at a good speed. At first -we thought it was small enough to take with lasso and keep -alive, so we chased it, but it proved on close acquaintance -to be an old she-bear, and far too big and strong to rope, -so we dispatched it with my 38 Colt pistol with one -shot in the centre of its white head at ten yards, which -killed it stone dead, much to the astonishment of crew, who<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span> -had no idea of what a pistol can do. Not an hour later, still -before the longed-for breakfast, we spotted a big bear on a -floe to windward, just five minutes after our watch was up, -so it came in the watch of Don Luis Velasquez, who came -on at nine o’clock.</p> - -<p>It was fascinating, watching the great beast with the -glass as it sauntered to and fro on the floe, a seal lay on the -floe not far out of the line from windward, and we fondly -hoped to see the bear stalk it, but before it quite crossed the -line of scent, and when not a hundred yards from the seal, -he evidently thought he would like forty winks, so he -shovelled himself a lair in the snow and turned in, but it -was not quite to his liking, so he got up and looked towards -us, and either did not see our rigging or did not mind it and -lay down again, so that we only saw his great yellowish -back above a snow ridge. So Gisbert and Don Luis had -time for a tiny whisky-and-soda, but no breakfast, and set -out with a large camp-following, and we others went on -with coffee and bear-steak, and at our leisure went to the -bridge and watched their long walk over snow ridges and -wreaths and blue-water pools. The ice-bear looked up -when they were about two hundred yards distant and began -to come towards them, then thought there were too many, -and retired. He was pretty well peppered by both rifles -before he gave in, fifteen to twenty-five shots we heard—the -account varies, but he was hit several times. When you are -by yourself, or with only another man, the bear will face you -and come to the attack, so you get a better chance than when -it is inclined to retire, as it did in this case. This was another -male of large size. I made a jotting of him before he yawned -and lay down to sleep, he probably had breakfasted—at -least he did not notice the seal distant from him about -twenty yards.</p> - -<p>There is much bumping to-day—floes are heavy and close -and we have to charge some which makes the splinters fly -from our sheathing of hard wood. It seems more hopeless -than ever to reach the North Greenland coast. The floes are -so large and numerous, we fear that even did we do so, a little -easterly wind might hem us in on the coast against land ice,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span> -where we might have to stay indefinitely. Still, two days may -alter the aspect of ice entirely: Svendsen details all this to -us with the stump of a pencil on the white wood of our new -captive’s cage to which he puts his black nose and ivory -teeth and crushes splinters, now and then using his claws. -He must know us all now, but they naturally are not very -friendly yet and the deep, musical vibration of their growls -coming right aft from the waist, sound sometimes a little -like curses “not loud but deep.” We can stand that, but -when the note changes to something like “For the Lord’s -sake let me out,” to freedom and the wide floe, we have to -harden our hearts and think of little children at home.</p> - -<p>At lunch we talk bear and other sport and Arctic cachés. -The last a subject that is fascinating. The first I ever heard -of was from one of Leigh Smith’s men of the Eira. We -were in the tropics, he was steering when he spoke of it, -with longing. He had wintered with Leigh Smith in Franz -Josef Land before that part became popular, and as he -steered he told me how, before leaving for their forty days’ -voyage in an open boat to Norway (they had lost their ship -in an ice squeeze), they buried the spare rifles, musical -instruments, and champagne. How one’s teeth watered as -we heard of these “beakers, cooled a long age in the deep -delved” snow, and little did my companion Bruce or I ever -think we would be near that caché; but five years later -Bruce was up there, and found the rifles, musical-boxes and -champagne bottles were there, just as described, but alas -the bottles were burst! Gisbert tells me he also saw -the same caché ten years later, and he knows of a finer -one still, still untouched by the A⸺ Z⸺ expedition. -It is also in Franz Josef Land—a cave in rock, blasted out, -and covered with a timber door so thick that not all the -polar bears in the Arctic, good carpenters as they are, could -open it. That is the Duke d’Abruzzi’s caché, and there are -others; one, I think, on Shannon Island, which we aim at -getting to and which we will add to, if not in need of provisions, -and draw on if we are in distress. The idea is to -add to such a store if you can, for the benefit of anyone really -in need. It is a wicked thing, however, to draw on a caché,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span> -excepting in case of being in want of the necessaries for -existence. I have had one pilfered in the barrens of Newfoundland -of tea and sugar, raisins, chocolate and such -luxuries, the necessaries, flour and hard tack, being left untouched. -Were the man found who did this, his life would be -made a burden to him through the breadth of Newfoundland.</p> - -<p>But to come back to our ice-bears. I have lately, and at -other times, heard many stories about them, and the more -I see of them the more do I believe about their strength, and -timidity, their fierce courage, and docility. One bear does -one thing, the next the opposite. One dies with two or three -bullets whilst running away, the next eats them up, advancing -to the attack.</p> - -<p>Gisbert’s closest contact, bar the occasion before mentioned -with the young bear, was quite exciting and unexpected. -He left the ship one day to verify the height of a mountain -in Franz Josef Land, which he had previously calculated -from sea—went up a steep ice-fall with ski in tow and got -to near the top, when a fierce gale, with snow, started. -Following the bear’s plan, he looked for a hole to slip into, -found such a shelter, and crawled in. By the faint blue light -coming through the ice roof and sides of the cave he discovered -a great bear, with its black nose resting on its folded -paws and its dark eyes looking at him with a kindly expression. -He did not trust the expression, but, keeping his -eyes steadily on the bear’s, he gently pulled his rifle forward, -and without lifting it, with his thumb pushed back the -safety bolt, and slowly brought forward the muzzle to the -bear’s ear and pulled, and so Gisbert lived to tell the tale. -It sounds a moderately tall story, but after many others -I have heard, and even from what I have seen lately, it does -not sound so wonderful as it may to one who has not been at -“this end of the garden.” When the gale blew over, some -of the crew came up to his signal, and three all told, slid -down the slope on the white bear’s body, at the foot it was, -of course, deprived of its skin; when you think of it, the -whole proceeding seems rather hard on the bear.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus30"> -<img src="images/illus30.jpg" width="700" height="350" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fulmar Petrels</span></p> -<p class="caption"><i>Photo by C. A. Hamilton</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus31"> -<img src="images/illus31.jpg" width="700" height="600" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">“Starboard” Being Hoisted on Board by Steam Winch</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Another bear yarn I heard from my friend Henriksen, -whom I have written about in previous chapters on our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span> -whaler the St Ebba. His father used to go north, and once -took a farm hand from his home in the island of Nottero. -Hansen was no sailor, and was a little weak-minded, but -enormously strong physically. In the fo’c’sle, the crew -made him their butt, till one morning he rose in his simple -wrath and threw the crew out separately up the scuttle -on to the deck when they should have been at dinner, and -kept them out till they pleaded for mercy. Shortly after he -became their hero, for one day whilst they were all away on -the ice sealing they were signalled to, to return to the ship, -for the ice was breaking up, and all hands made a long run -round an opening lane to get aboard, but big Hansen hooked -a piece of floating ice and started navigating himself across, -paddling with his ice pick, and he was not in the least put -out when he observed a big bear awaiting his landing. But -the bear seemed impatient and shoved off to meet him half-way, -and Hansen quietly waited and dealt it a mighty blow -with his pick into the brain as it came alongside, and killed it, -then towed it along with him, skinned it, and came to the -ship with its head and skin over his head and shoulders, -very bloody but very pleased.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing32.jpg" width="500" height="425" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Last night we were fog-stayed, we could not get ahead -a thin fog with the midnight sun shining through. We<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span> -had many small things to occupy ourselves with, but every -five minutes some of us were out at the cabin door to look -at the view. Only a plain of snow fading in violet ridges -into the mist, with very few features, but the delicacy of -the colour you hardly notice at first, day after day grows -on you, and if you try to paint it, it grows more quickly, -and you realise the difficulty of trying to reproduce Nature’s -highest quiet notes. It was our watch till three—that is, -Archie’s and mine—but the others stayed up, though there -was little chance of seeing a bear. So inside the cabin we -piled coal on to the small stove and blew smokes, and it was -warm, distinctly cosy, and the guitar thrummed, and several -of us hummed and wrote and smoked, and then went out -into the cold, frosty air and looked at the colour, the fantasy -of ice form and colour and the icicles hanging from scanty -rigging, and came back to the cabin and vainly tried to find -words to express appreciation of the beauty of the white -scenery.</p> - -<p>So we stayed up till the end of our watch, then Archie and -I turned in, very sleepy, and our Spanish friends stood their -watch as well, till nine. They never seem to turn a hair -for want of sleep.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII</h2> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/drawing33.jpg" width="250" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">On the 15th of July we started looking for -whale or bear in the mist again, but with -never a sign of either. So painting was -the order of the day for the writer, such -a chance, no letters, no newspapers, -nothing to take one’s mind off looking -at the effects of this end of the garden. -Hours flew, <i>middag mad</i> of bear passed, -painting still going, only interrupted -by expeditions forward, where our men were packing the -bear and seal skins in salt in barrels. Later we went -ashore—<i>i.e.</i> on to the blue floe—blue ice covered with -white crystals, you might call it snow. Three of our party -and the dog, a young Gordon setter, wild with joy at freedom -of movement, they go off a mile or so over hard, smooth -surface, which grows more and more faint in the sunny haze -and distance. The surface on this particular floe was smooth -and hard and easy to walk on. In most places you see the -light coming up as through a carpet of white crystals on pale -blue glass beneath your feet. Where there is a little water -it is quite blue, and where it is dry you shovel your feet -through loose white crystals on the top of the blue. So this -is rather different from Antarctic floes, which, as far as I -can remember, were covered with fresh snow, so the walking -was generally more difficult than here. Before I had seen -northern floes my Dundee whaler companions used to tell -me how they often played football matches on the northern -ice, and I wondered!—now I understand. I also believe -now what I doubted, that whilst doing so one misty day, -Dundee sealers against Newfoundlanders, referee, silver -whistle and all in great style, a bear intervened and took -their walrus bladder football; what a sweet picture in greys -that would make, the sailor-men bolting for the ship, their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span> -dark clothes look so delicate and ethereal on the floe in this -fine mist, and to see a bear’s faint yellow coat in contrast!</p> - -<p>Our party came back towing a drift pine stem which we -had spotted far off on the ice from the mast-head. Quite -an important find in the wide world of ice. They towed -it to the ship with a lasso.</p> - -<p>Gisbert and the writer did quite a lot of lasso practice, -partly at a stick set in ice, partly at our dog, as it ran to fetch -a glove—great sport for us, but the dog soon showed a -desire to climb on board by the rope ladder. As we cut -off the ice-worn root with our ice axe we discussed the -possible journeyings of the pine stem; from its roots we knew -it had grown on rocky ground, from the rings, its slow growth -and age, and consequently of the climate it had survived in; -from the known currents and drifts we calculated it came -from far-away eastwards, say from the Lena river in Siberia. -When tired of lassoing, De Gisbert showed me something -about splitting logs. I am not a great expert with an axe, -and he is rather, he cut his sea-boot soon almost through -the leather of the inside of the instep without cutting his foot. -To show him what I could do, with a mighty welt I split a -log, and the axe glanced and cut my instep through the sea-boot -and two pairs of stockings. A chopped tree and a -chopped foot may not appear to have wide or deep interest -to anyone but the owner of the foot, and may not seem worthy -of record in such Arctic notes as these. But let us pause -and consider, if there is not something wonderful and almost -inexplicable in this apparently trifling incident. Here you -have East meeting East, North meeting North! A “gentleman -of Scotland born” proceeds by a devious route from Edinburgh -via Hull to an ice-floe in the North Polar basin. And -here, from some unknown river in far Siberia, possibly the -Lena, by the great polar current, after possibly years of -voyaging, comes this lonely barkless pine stem, and they -meet. And the gentleman chops the extremity of the tree -with the ship’s axe and his own extremity at the same time—namely -his left instep, as before mentioned. Does not this -incident, though trifling in itself, recall the divine words of -the Immortal William: “There’s a divinity that shapes<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span> -our ends, rough hew them how we will.” Perhaps, without -any claim to originality, we may, under the circumstances, -be allowed to conclude, from the above combination of -circumstances, that the world is small.</p> - -<p>So the snow had other red than the bear’s. Gisbert got -his “first aid” out within a second of the time I had got my -own, he is very quick: but the captain was first with his, -and Archie administered a small tot of medicine from three -bens and three glens which he had brought in a little flask -all the way from Arthur Lodge, Edinburgh. It will be a -sell if I cannot go on one foot after the next bear or -whale.</p> - -<p>About these North Polar basin currents we have many -interesting talks, for De Gisbert has studied them for many -years. He has asked me to accompany the Spanish expedition -in the vessel which will accompany his Spanish Government -ship as far as Cape Tsdieljulskin. This possibly -because as an artist he is so well content with trying to -depict effects of his “end of the garden,” most possibly -because his, Gisbert’s, wife and child are to go so far, -and as she is a Campbell-Gibson she naturally dotes on the -bagpipes.</p> - -<p>At night the mist cleared up a little and we made some -miles to west, pushing through floes. When we came to a -blue fresh-water pool on one, we again set to work and bailed -our tanks full of fresh water.</p> - -<p>Then on again, charging the floes with many a bump, -which is rather alarming to those of our party who are not -salted to such shocks. We hope the floes won’t close up -behind us altogether, but when you enter the pack, as the -whalers say, “there’s no looking over the shoulder,” and -one must take risks in all occupations.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>To-day we had a splendid bear chase, none the worse -because our prey escaped. The morning was exquisite, the -mist rose and lay in lavender wisps across the distance of -the floes, and the sun shone and the sea became a cheery -glittering dark blue, and you could hardly keep your eyes<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span> -open when you came out of the cabin for the blaze of light. -What a change, everything sharp and clear, compared to the -veiled misty ice effects of last week!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing34.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We were at breakfast and would have liked time for a -pipe before the news came: “An ice-bear!” and over the -bows on to the floe by the rope ladder five of us scrambled. -The writer was armed with a heavy double 475, and cartridges -the size of asparagus, said to be unnecessarily heavy, -but Hamilton’s last monster bear took five of his 355 magnum, -all in pretty good places. It seems to me that a really big -bear would be more surely killed by a heavy 475 or 500.<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> -Bad luck it was to have to travel with a cut foot, and -doubly bad at the very start to make a false step and go -head first into a hole in the floe, and to get wet through, with -waders full at the start. However, Archie cleverly caught -the rifle and gave me a hand out, and I got rid of some of -the water in the way all anglers are familiar with—that is, -lying on your back and holding up your feet, a few “tut -tuts,” and we proceeded over hard snow, when we could get -it, wading blue shallows from time to time. Two of our -seamen went flanking about a mile out on to the floe and we -beat up half-a-mile from sea-edge, aiming at the place where -we had seen the bears from the crow’s nest, a female with -two cubs. The chill of the early start, cold water and the -soreness of the foot wore off as we slowly covered mile after -mile; sometimes walking was merely a struggle, soft snow -covering blocks of ice with horrid pitfalls, other times over<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span> -crisp, glittering, sunlit beds of icicles set in blue, level as a -mat, tumbling into glittering fragments as we crunched -across. But our trail was all in vain; from blocks and -hummocks we spied the plains and could not find our bears. -They had made a wide circuit, gone down wind, and got ours, -I expect, and had gone clean away, and as the floe was, say, -twenty miles across and all over hummocks, they were soon -lost to sight, even from the mast-head.</p> - -<p>Coming back at leisure we had more time to enjoy the -warm sun and the colouring. There were three distinct -blues. Behind our little white ship at the floe-edge the sea -glittered deep blue, like Oxford blue; on the floe between -us and the ship there was spread a wide pond of shallow -water, lighter than Cambridge blue, and the pigeon-grey sky -showed patches of light peacock-blue.</p> - -<p>A change of clothes, a redressed foot by Captain Svendsen—one -of the lightest handed surgeons I have met—and some -bear-steak and we started steaming round the floe, pretty -sure of getting our glasses on to the bears before many hours -were past. For hours we watched with glasses and telescope -from the bridge and crow’s nest the passing white and -grey plains and snowy fantastic rock scenes till we almost -slept with the continual concentration of the eye on the -moving white scene. But alas, at five <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, the mist came -down again, so again we put our ship’s nose against the ice-floe -and we pray now that the mist may lift. The skipper -and Gisbert took advantage of this pause to make an Artificial -horizon with tar in a plate, and tried to find our position by -same with sun on the tar surface. But the tar congealed off -the level, and after calculations in decimals, yards in length, -we find our position is two hundred miles inside the north-east -coast of Greenland!</p> - -<p>Before midnight, with the sun still high above the horizon, -the mist lifted and again we go plodding round another huge -floe. We cannot get west yet, enormous floes bar our way, -there is a narrow passage, say two hundred yards wide, to -west between two counties of ice, but it is too narrow for us -to venture through. Should the floes close we would be -imprisoned before we had time to retreat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span></p> - -<p>It is almost incredible, there is a feeling of movement to-day, -the 17th July, quite a perceptible sense of pitch and -roll. You notice it even without looking. The living movement -of the sea—for ten days we have been “in the ice,” -with smooth water. How welcome is this open water. A -clear road lies before us to Greenland—why should the ice -this year lie across our track in such fields, making us take -fifteen days for a distance we expected to cover in four? -Perhaps it was as well we met it; though there were no -whales there were at least bears, so we have their valuable -skins and seal blubber, and our two live bears to make up -our cargo. They bring rather an unpleasing aroma at times -into the pure Arctic air. Their cages are in parts becoming -more and more thick, with stumps of the two-inch battens, -which they have eaten their way through. We begin to -wonder how to get one of them across from Trömso to -Edinburgh, for it would be awkward if they eat their way -through on a passenger steamer. <i>Mem</i>: Keep on practising -lasso and throwing hitches and pistol practice.</p> - -<p>At three this morning, twenty minutes to three to be -exact, and in Don José’s watch, we spotted a bear on the -great floe we were hanging about yesterday; a bear and two -cubs, probably the bear of yesterday, and he and Gisbert -went off armed cap-à-pie, and the writer could not but be -amused at the old lady’s cleverness, though it was at the -expense of our companions. It was a mile away, but with a -fine glass every movement could be followed, and with no -glass to aid its sight it could apparently follow our movements. -It stood up its full height, craned its neck to one -side or the other, then got on all-fours and spoke to its cubs, -and they set off up wind, then it turned round, took another -spy at our friends, who soon looked like little black dots -amongst the waste of floe, ice hummocks and pinnacles, -little lakes and shallow valleys, and as they pursued their -way steadily to where the bears had been seen, it made a -wide sweep to their left and got away farther even than we -could follow it from the mast. I made a jotting from the -telescope as per over page, which gives an idea of the kind -of going.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus32"> -<img src="images/illus32.jpg" width="700" height="550" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">A Polar Bear</span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span></p> - -<p>I would know that long cunning female again, I believe, -were I to meet her, from the odd movements, from her “out-stretched -neck and ever watchful eye.” The cubs should be -grateful for such a mother; without her skill in character-reading, -they would both be in little cages on board here! -Does it not make the reader comfortable to know that they -are at liberty, free to enjoy seal-killing and fat galore, and -pure snow and air and the Arctic world to roam in? When -they would not follow fast enough Mother Bear turned and -spoke angrily, then finally went and spanked them. A bear -and a monkey are the only animals, excepting -man, who spank their young. So -up here you see little domestic touches in -bear life, which, so far, you cannot get in -a zoo. It is worth coming north to see -such a matron tending her young, to see -the jolly round yellow cubs full of fun, -gambolling over the fine old mother, -playing with her ears and head and teeth -that at half-a-bite could take a man’s -head off like asparagus. Here is a picture -of such a group. “Rest after Play,” it -should perhaps be called. “True till -Death” might be too harrowing.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/drawing35.jpg" width="150" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Sometimes fatal accidents occur in bear-hunting. I have -heard of several, but they are small in number compared to -the number of bears shot. A few years ago Gisbert witnessed -one. Two Norwegian sealers came on an ice-floe after two -bears somewhere east of Spitzbergen, and they killed one -and set to work skinning it. The second bear was holding -towards Gisbert’s vessel, so one of the Norwegians hurried off -to annex it by himself, which is not a very safe thing to do. -He pursued it some time and wounded it, and the bear went -for him, and his rifle jammed, and when De Gisbert’s party -came up a little while afterwards the man was in ribbons.</p> - -<p>Now I hope we may stop writing about bears and soon -come in touch with our older friends, the whales, of one kind -or another. We are prepared for Balean whales, or Nord -Cappers, “the old kind,” I call them. But for the big<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span> -stronger Finners we are not prepared. I have written about -these in a previous chapter—about the special tackle required -to master their enormous strength. “Modern whales,” -I call them, or Finners, the largest animal that exists in this -world, or ever has existed, up to one hundred and twenty -feet; longer than the prehistoric Diplodocus. The Balean -whale or Mysticetus that used to be fished here, and which -has grown so scarce, though it is generally depicted destroying -boats, is a fat, leisurely “fish” compared to these bigger -and more active Finners, but alas, he is now not only scarce -but is also very shy and wary.</p> - -<p>Forty-five miles we plod along, with northerly strong wind, -and pass two of what they call icebergs here—“ice chips” -down South—a grey sky ribbed like sea-sand overhead, with -the light off snow land on the sky; a yellowish cold glare -to the westward; that is Greenland, and we at last pull up -against the land-floe. It is just the same as the big sea-floes -which we have been amongst, still it is against the land! -Twenty-five miles of it we guess; when the haze over it lifts -we shall see Greenland’s icy mountains. The days of heat -and basking in the blooming saxifrage and yellow poppies -seem still far away. But patience—if you wait for ever so -long you sometimes get your heart’s desire.</p> - -<p>The strong wind from north and west is cutting off bits -of this land-floe of all sizes, from a yard wide to a mile or -two, and so taking them down to cool our north temperate -zone. I wish the process had begun sooner, so that we -now might be nearer land in shallow soundings looking for -walrus. I sincerely desire to see them, as I think my -heavy ·475 would have the chance of its life as against -the smaller bore rifles we have with us. You have to shoot -them, then harpoon them before they sink; when one is -harpooned the others rally round and there is wild work. -Whales, musk oxen and walrus, coupled with a bee humming -in the Greenland meadows, is my desire. It is said there are -mosquitoes, but for none of the breed have I any desire, -either little or big, from Bassein Creek or Seringapatam. -They do say, however, that the Greenland specimen does -not have any fever on its proboscis.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Whales at last in our night watch! I must write -my notes about them before I turn in. Some people say -whaling is not sport. I differ from them. It is the best -sport I know. We had bear and whale in the same basket -to-night, first a cast for a whale which went off, and then -immediately after a shot at a bear which we got, and then -another whale, which we got also, both within two hours. -Certainly though it was only a narwhal the whale was the -best sport.</p> - -<p>We lie in a small bay the length of our small vessel, which -is one hundred and ten feet in length, and to our left hand -there is a bigger bay in the floe, about two hundred yards -wide, and narwhals have appeared in it. So we dropped -our whale-boat with the harpoon-gun loaded and put the -line in order. This, of course, should have been all in order -and ready, so time was lost. Then we tumbled on board by -the port chains and rowed down to where the whales had -last appeared; and waited for them to come up again.</p> - -<p>It blew a little with cold, fine snow. As we waited someone -on board shouted “A bear!” and we cast our eyes down -wind to the ice-floe and got a glimpse of pale primrose -passing amongst hummocks; and very quickly we got -the harpoon out of the gun and backed down as fast as -possible, getting into a bit of a sea, and as we approached -the floe I got two 475 shells into the rifle. As we came -within fifty yards up came Bruin, making towards us. -It was very difficult to hold straight, for the sea was -breaking in foam and the boat was tossed about amongst -chunks of ice, so I held on and on, wishing to make -sure—up and down we went, and round went the muzzle -of the rifle, but still the bear came on, as if he wanted to -board us. So lest he should change his mind and bolt, I -let loose at about eight yards and tried to hit the middle -of its chest, but I was a trifle off and hit the point of his -starboard shoulder—with such a heavy rifle and big ball -and cartridge we would have expected to knock him over, -but it only turned it! The second barrel hit him a little -high and back of the shoulder, and he tumbled out of sight -over a hummock. So we made wild jumps on to broken ice<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span> -in the foam and scrambled on to the floe and over very -rugged hummocks for a few yards, and put in a third shot, -which seemed to finish it, and Svendsen and two men hurried -on to get the body, for the ice was closing round us, but -they found it still breathing, so Gisbert and I, who were -keeping the boat off the floe-edge, backed in again, and with -difficulty handed the rifle to Svendsen, who put in another -bullet, and with a rope the three dragged it over the snow -towards the boat. It was a mighty drag even for the -distance of a hundred yards. Then we backed in again -through the surf at ice-edge and Svendsen and the men -struggled into the boat with the line, and we hurriedly pulled -and shoved off, for some heavy ice was closing round us, and -got out just in time, with the bear floating in tow. In the -rough water clear of ice, we managed, with another struggle -and without upsetting, to pull the bear on board and rowed -back to the ship, greatly rejoicing! Just as we got it heaved -on board by the steam-winch, much to my relief, I spotted -the narwhals again and off we set, three pairs of oars rowing -hard, and as quickly as possible, the harpoon again in -place.</p> - -<p>I have been at the killing of much bigger whales, but this -spotted black-and-white fellow with the horn in his nose, -plus the bear, was to my mind as interesting a little hunt as -any. Sometimes a rabbit stalk is of more interest than that -of a deer! A fine black-and-white-spotted fellow showed -with a great ivory unicorn, but out of shot. Then another, -more brown in colour, appeared, and Svendsen let drive. -The harpoon shot was excellent and very quick, away went -the line, I do not know for how many fathoms—we passed -it aft and all hauled in and let out and hauled in again, -finally we came alongside the whale, with its circle of -splashing and foam, and it raised its tail, and we put in -a big bullet from the 475, which went from its stem to its -bow, and it collapsed instantly. It was a surprisingly -killing shot, for one bullet to kill the whale, and yet the -bear took three to stop it. We hove our line in short, and -set to work to tow the whale alongside and began to flense -it—that is, to strip the blubber off the carcass—and were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span> -all very pleased, and were just drawing the harpoon from the -gun, which we had reloaded, when again whales appeared in -our little ice bay. So we again threw our oilskins into the -boat and went off again. In our bay we waited twenty -minutes by the watch, and up one came again, a better one -than our first was leading: it was white, with black spots. -Our first was brown, with white markings. We very nearly -got the harpoon into it, but it only showed for a second or -two each rise and it escaped. So more waiting in wet cold -wind, with a lot of bears’ blood, and snow and water under -foot: but this journey we had each a tot of aqua vite. So -we waited and waited again, just as you wait for a rising -trout—only with a little more subdued excitement and -perhaps more than usual wet and cold: and again the handsome -beasts appeared, and we dashed after them, three pairs -of oars, but they went off under the floe and we waited again -till endurance ceased, and, very wet, and cold, and shivering, -we got aboard for supper at four in the morning. Three -o’clock yesterday morning till four o’clock this morning -makes a longish day of experience. I would have given two -bears to have got the biggest narwhal with the splendid -horn. Perhaps if we had harpooned one of the baby whales -of the family we might have got the homed male, for -narwhals, like sperm whales, stand by each other. Or we -might have had his great ivory tusk through our boat, as -has happened before. They have driven their spear through -many inches of an oaken keel. You can see such a keel in -Bergen Museum.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing36.jpg" width="500" height="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We cut up the narwhal and found it full of small -cuttle-fish and shrimps—the bear was full of lead. -These great 475 cordite seemed to have less effect than -the higher velocity 250 mannlicher. I must try them again, -but I begin to be a convert to the smaller bores and high -velocity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span></p> - -<p>Now it is Archie’s turn for another bear, so I can retire -to paint and bring up my game-book with four bears and a -whale to enter—two bears with rifle, one with lasso, and one -with pistol, and possibly the whale which was partly killed -by harpoon, partly by rifle.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>If I had not been writing these notes I would have -harpooned a whale, I believe, for a few minutes after -getting on board the narwhals appeared again, and by -the time we were afloat and at the place they had appeared -at, we were too late. So, to be out of temptation and the -cold, I turned in at six <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>, after a long day of the unexpected. -First, open sea! then the narwhals’ appearance, -then the bears, and narwhals again. Quite good hunting -if it were not for the persistent mist that worries all of us -more or less and prevents our getting ahead.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing37.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I hear this morning that after I had turned in, the mate -had a shot with the harpoon at a narwhal and missed. I -am sure our gun shoots short, possibly the powder is faulty. -I have known a man miss fifty shots in succession in the -Japanese seas, owing to this cause. He got more suitable -powder, and he killed sixty-nine whales without a miss. -This is the old style of gun and harpoon which we have -on the Fonix. A is wire strop or grummet running in slot -in harpoon shaft. B is the “forego,” a length of extra fine -and strong line attached to harpoon. C shows the line -going into the bottom of the boat. D, crutch turning in; -E, a bollard or timber-head.</p> - -<p>On the Balæna, a Dundee and Greenland whaler I was -on for a long cruise, we coiled down eighteen hundred -yards of two-inch rope in each boat, extremely carefully<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span> -coiled down in three divisions, one in the bows, one amidships, -and another at the stern. After using the modern -heavy Finner tackle from a small steamer these old lines seem -to be very light tackle in contrast. Last year we coiled -down five-inch ropes (<i>i.e.</i> five in circumference) three hundred -and sixty fathoms to port, three hundred and sixty to starboard, -each line filling a bulkhead of, say, eight feet by eight, -and each line weighing about a ton, and the harpoons weighed -nearly two hundredweights. To play a fish of, say, ninety -tons that can snap such a cable or tow your hundred-foot -steamer at eight to fifteen knots up wind, with the two-hundred-horse-power -engine doing eight knots astern, is some -sport. But the thin lines we have here are quite adequate -for this Balean whale of the Arctic, for the Right whale as a -rule does not sprint and it floats when it is dead, and usually, -on being harpooned, dives deep and stays down till it exhausts -itself from want of air, and so the lancing is easy. -The rorquals go off at great speed nearer the surface.</p> - -<p>Does the reader know about the great Svend Foyn, who -invented the harpoon for the great finners of modern whaling? -He was a man of remarkable determination and strength -of character. Many yarns have I heard about him.</p> - -<p>This is one of them:</p> - -<p>To show how his new harpoon worked, he took his wife -on a trial trip—great man as he was, he made mistakes, -and had his limitations. He soon made fast to a great -finner with his new harpoon and line, and was he not a proud -man? But the harpoon struck the whale too far aft and did -not disable it. It took out the whole line and with a rush -took their little steamer in tow at a terrible speed out of the -fiord for twelve hours at fifteen knots against a gale, and -they were steaming seven knots astern with a sail up to help -to stop the speed.</p> - -<p>“Let go, let go,” prayed the wife, “I am seek, I am -afraid.” “No, no,” said Foyn, “I vill never let go. I -vill show you veech is de strongest my vill or de vill of de -beasts,” and he held on and finally got the whale lanced. -But it was an awful fight. When they towed the whale -ashore in triumph his wife was nearly dead, and she said:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span> -“Now you have shown me your vill ees stronger den de -beasts’—now I vill leave you,” and she did. And through -his life his second wife was his right hand.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus33"> -<img src="images/illus33.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">The End of the Trail</span></p> -</div> - -<p>What a huge industry has sprung from that new harpoon -first planned by Mr Welsh in Dundee, but developed in -Tönsberg by Svend Foyn, working with Henriksen the -engineer, that wonderful patriarch of Tönsberg. Gruff old -Svend Foyn died in 1895, a millionaire; but he preserved -great simplicity of life and dined off one tin plate, and -despised luxuries; and only one ailment did he ever suffer -from, that was toothache; so if anyone had toothache they -got his sympathy, no other complaint got any. Only one -man in Norway could get to windward of him, and that was -Yensen, his steward. Once Foyn came on board at night -and Yensen was lying on the cabin floor very drunk, but with -just enough sense left to clap his hand to his cheek, and when -Foyn roared out: “Halloo, what the hell’s the matter with -you?” he groaned: “Toothache, Captain, terrible toothache.” -“Ho, ho,” said Foyn, “I’ll soon put that right,” and he -went to his cabin and poured out a sou’-wester of whisky, -which he ordered Yensen to swallow neat, of course; he did -so, and made a face, and had some difficulty in getting forward. -Foyn was as pleased as could be next morning, when he -visited Yensen and found he had only a headache. The -steward was very diplomatic and tactful. Once, with his -Captain, he went up a high hill somewhere about the Nord -Cap to look out for whales in the offing and there came -such a clap of wind that it blew the great Foyn down and -hurt his person and his dignity. But on looking round he -found Yensen slowly getting to his feet, muttering: “That -was a terrible blast, Captain.” Yensen had really not felt it -at all, so he saved Foyn’s feelings.</p> - -<p>His new industry has been the making of Southern Norway -and half of Tönsberg. But the Tönsberg people remember -him with mixed feelings. They would not subscribe capital -to their townsman’s new venture; not only that, but they -insisted on his doing all his whale factory work outside the -town. “All right,” he said, “if you won’t take a share in -the business I will give you the ‘smell,’” and he built his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span> -works to windward and made many hundreds per cent. -profit for years, and the Tönsberg people only got the smell. -Now, however, there are very few men in Southern Norway -who do not have shares in one modern whaling company -or another, and the island of Nottero, for example, in -the south of Norway, is dotted with pretty homesteads, -owned by successful whaling owners, captains and mates. -There they call whaling an Industry. Here, even though -we tell of eighty per cent. dividends running for years, it -is called a Speculation.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing38.jpg" width="500" height="225" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>But to come back to our whales. Whilst enjoying the -sun through the mist and the intense stillness we heard a -deep growl or groan, something like a bear or a cow, a deep -note which seemed to come from the floe across the little bay -I have mentioned. Peering into the sunlight track, on the -water we noticed forms moving and more groans came from -these—Narwhals they are!—and away we go, get the gun -uncovered and two ·475 shells in the breech of the big rifle, -and just as we came to the place where they were, there they -are no more, only an oily swirl on the faint ripples. So we -lie on our oars and by-and-by they appear again down the ice-edge—seven -or eight. I practise laying the gun and harpoon -on to them and fondly hope I may get within range. Then -comes the chief of the clan, a glorious fellow; how I do -desire to own the great horn which I see for a moment. -Next time he comes up. I feel sure I shall let go, and have the -gun ready, feet spread out and the line all clear. But they -are gone! off under the ice, and again we lie idly waiting. -Then Archie whistles from the ship and signals that he has -seen them out seawards and away we go, and as usual arrive -at firing distance just as they “tail up” for their long dive.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing39.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Sperm breaching</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing40.jpg" width="500" height="300" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Small Finner leaping</p> -</div> - -<p>Some whales “tail up” before a long dive; some more, -some less; some finners only do this A dive after showing -several times and blasting B. But these narwhals show -their dumpy feeble tail, C, as also does the sperm D, before -the long dive. The rorquals’ tails are magnificent appendages, -and it is often thrown clear of the sea when such -a whale is “fast” or harpooned E. The sperm can make a -big swipe with his tail; it is apparently more elastic in the -spine than the finner. To see a sperm breaching is a fine -sight; he runs fast along the surface, every second leaping -clear out, or at least going, as it were, on his tail, and thumps<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span> -down with a crash of spray. Though I have seen thousands -of Finners I have only seldom seen them leaping clear of the -water, but here is a jotting of one that rose several times -within thirty yards of us—close enough! leap after leap, -its tail ten feet clear of the sea, head first, straight up into -the air and down again head first; what stupendous -strength and what delicate colour, its underside white as -kid, ribbed like corduroy, its back grey, glittering in the -sun (<a href="#Page_235">see page 235</a>).</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We left our sheltered ice bay this morning, 19th July, -because the mist lifted and the sky hung in level lilac bands -above the ice-floes, and we got a few hours’ further steaming -through the ice towards the coast. And I am rather sorry. -For we had got to know the biggest ice features of that bay, -and the fishing and shooting were worth quite a good rent—two -bears, one narwhal and lots of hunting for other bears -in two days. I would have stayed a week more there myself -and so would Gisbert, as we are both very keen about -the narwhals, but the others were not, and thought there -wasn’t much chance of getting within shot.</p> - -<p>I must say the narwhals were provoking, rising trout in -a chalk stream are not more wary, still there was always a -chance. I’d have given a good deal to land one of these -splendid ivory horns. Time after time we got almost within -harpooning distance and the group of long spotted black -and white backs would signal to each other and quietly disappear -and sink. We stalked or rowed as quietly as possible -to one lot, and I had half a chance and let drive but the -harpoon struck water just a foot short of the nearest and -biggest. What a flourish of tails and spray there was as -they plunged and left great quiet swirls in the rippling water; -our boat and hearts bobbing but no whale fast to a straining -line. You salmon-fishers don’t know the saltness of the -tears for a missed or lost whale.</p> - -<p>Svendsen, who has only done bottle-nose harpooning, was -put on for next chance and did exactly as I had done, only -he got his hand cut through the butt of the harpoon-gun -being a bit loose. Truth is, our gear, guns and line on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span> -Fonix are rotten. He told me a curious thing that happened -with him a year or two ago; whilst bottle-nosing his mate -had made miss after miss at whales with the harpoon, and -coming alongside he said: “<i>By G⸺</i>, if I can’t hit a whale I’ll -hit a gull” (fulmar petrels were, as usual, round the vessel), -so he blew at one and the harpoon cut it in two! But a -bottle-nose is an easier mark, to my mind, than the narwhal. -Narwhals are apt to show so little above water—only about -four to ten inches, and that only for a second as a rule.</p> - -<p>Almost at every watch we heard their groanings and went -after them. Sometimes we thought we heard the sound -coming from under the water. I am sure we did.</p> - -<p>Our biggest disappointment came at night—two in the -morning rather. A bear was spotted—a bear on the far side -of our loch, and Gisbert went off with some men in the whale-boat -and we watched in our night clothes (much the same as -day clothes in the Arctic) and saw the captain do a record -sprint over the floe to turn the bear towards the gun, but the -bear that at first seemed inclined to come and pass the time -of day changed his mind and went ambling away, giving us -a stern view till only its black nose and mouth were visible, -as it looked round occasionally, and then it vanished in the -lilac distance amongst the snow hummocks, and the writer -turned in, thinking the play was over. But this morning, I -am told, the real disappointment came. They gave up the -bear, for a large black-and-white narwhal, with a magnificent -horn, appeared round the ice point and they rowed round -for it. It was lying leisurely on the surface, only going below -occasionally. Gisbert was to take the harpoon. They -made a splendid approach, breathlessly still, oars not making -a sound, and got within five yards! And the whale rose -high out of the water and Gisbert pulled the trigger, and the -gun missed fire. The cap that explodes the powder had -been withdrawn for safety, when they began the bear-chase, -and not replaced! You can imagine the disappointment. -I can assure the reader that such an approach, the approach -and hunting of any whale, in fact, is far more exciting than -one’s first stag or bear. There is more risk than in bear-hunting. -But a danger of the narwhal is that if you make<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span> -fast to a young one the rest of the family, parents and -relatives, are down on you and you have a chance of getting -the great ivory spear through your boat. There is all the -possibility of lines and legs getting mixed, boat upset, or -dragged under floes, and lots more, if you care to tot them up. -Curiously, there have been far more lives lost at bottle-nose -whaling than at that of the larger kinds (the bottle-nose -and narwhal are about the same size). A bottle-nose is not -larger than the narwhal, but it goes off with such a dash -that I have known several men to have been carried overboard—Captain -Larsen for one. He told me he went over -with coil round his leg, and another man in front; he got -loose but the other man never came up again.</p> - -<p>The great Svend Foyn was once taken overboard—that -was with a five-inch rope, after a finner whale, which is -seldom or never known to check its first rush. This one did, -slacked the line and Svend Foyn came to the surface and -struck out and clambered on board, where the mate stood -white with horror, and all the welcome he could muster was: -“I—I—I am afraid you are wet, Captain!” and Foyn -laughed himself dry....</p> - -<p>Then Fortune gave a belated smile on our adventurers. -The foolish bear left the immense floe, on which it was -perfectly safe, and took a swim to a small one lying on the -far side. Our boat having gone round after this narwhal, -was therefore able to spot something moving across the calm -water, and when the object got to the floe and crawled out -on to the ice, great was their rejoicing to find their bear -again. So they pursued it again and killed it with one head -shot, one in the neck, and three in the body. It was a small -bear, a female about three metres, thirty centimetres—that -is, seven feet six inches—and had bad teeth and looked old! -My last, about the same length, had splendid teeth and -looked young. This accepted measurement, which we -take from nose to tail, does not give a true impression of the -size of a bear, for this bear standing up would be about nine -feet in height. I do not see why we should not measure a -bear standing up as we measure man, from top of his head -to his heel. We never think of giving a man’s height in feet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span> -and inches from top of head to the seat of his trousers. -And, besides, what is the <i>end</i> of a bear’s tail? Is it the -flesh and bone or longest hair? I’ve seen a hair about five -inches long on a bear’s tail, and including the water dripping -from that you would have thought, by the measurements, -it beat the record.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Before we left our last misty anchorage we partook -of a meal of both bear and narwhal. The narwhal’s -flesh is blacker than an old mushroom, and -as food it is only passable. Young bear is our best -food, but there is a lot of trouble about preparing it, for we -remove all the fat, which has not a good taste.</p> - -<p>This morning one of these little grey seals or floe rats -looked at us from astern, and as I plan a motoring coat I -felt called upon to deprive it of its pelt, painlessly, after -administering a tabloid—lead in nickel. I do not think -there is any sport in shooting seals without a pucca stalk, -still, the skins of these little grey fellows (Vitulina, or are -they a new species?) are too good to leave. I think six will -be enough for a coat. I have got three now.</p> - -<p>The flippers of the seals here are highly developed, with -distinct claws. In the Antarctic the flippers are less distinctly -articulated. The finger-bones are more bound together by -ligament, and the claws or nails are scarcely noticeable.</p> - -<p>All day we travelled north and as westerly as possible, -trying to get within sight of Greenland, and for once the -sun came out and we felt as if we could paint on deck, and -did so for a little—dead smooth sea, with fine icicles forming -and very level fields of ice, with few hummocks, extending -to the pigeon-grey ribbed sky on horizon—rather monotonous. -The guitar was going somewhere on board and most of us -cooling our heels in the silence. Only the captive bears -seem busy—grate, grate, grating at their wooden walls; -one got nearly out last night, when we were off after the -narwhal. We saw excited figures jumping about on our -foredeck, and when we came alongside there was fierce -growling, poor old Port bear being prodded in the back to -draw its attention, whilst three seamen struggled to nail on -new wood in front of its nose-end of the cage.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span></p> - -<p>But to come back to this day that begins so quietly, -we are now all agog, we had a splendid bear-hunt and -spotted a female with cub, a very small thing, and it was -fascinating watching all their movements and signs to each -other. We tried to jam the ship to the floe-edge, but for -hundreds of yards it was guarded by floating pan ice—that -is, ice in cakes of a few yards diameter and not deep, only, -say, a foot. A big whaler could have jammed through comfortably, -but we are not strong enough and got stuck and -retired as gracefully as possible and went a long round of -miles and miles to where we could land on the true floe, -practising lasso en route in case we may have another -opportunity of throwing a rope over a live wild bear.</p> - -<p>Later we spotted the bear and child, and Archie and party -went off after it, and from board ship we watched their slow -procedure and the bears’ rapid disappearance. I thought -then that the fun was over, and retired to draw—but they -had the best stalk they have had. They struck the spoor -of a bigger single bear, followed it by directions from mast-head, -and came within a short distance, when the sleeping -hero awoke, and promptly stalked them, then Archie fired -at forty yards. He says: “Give me pheasant-shooting and -a covert side, and nothing on four legs bigger than a spaniel.” -It is rather an awesome thing seeing a fellow in white robes -and formidable teeth, that when on his bare feet stands well -over ten feet high. A cordite rifle is then a very comfortable -thing to hold in your hand. The first bullet in the chest -knocked the bear over and two more shots killed it. It took -about five hours there and back to finish the bloody business. -And even on their tramp home we on board were kept in -interest, for Don José Herrero, with the captain, went out for -a fourth bear—relationship to others not known—Svendsen -tried to draw the bear after him, whilst Don José hid behind -a hummock. A bear will always attack a single man, sometimes -two, seldom a number, and the plan worked effectively -up to a point. It was lovely to watch Svendsen’s simulated -frightened flight and the bear following, stalking him behind -every hummock, keeping cover, and then scuttling across -the open to make sure of its victim. But somehow or other<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span> -the bear did not just come far enough and our second lot -of hunters came back with nothing in the bag. Later, we -noticed the same bear working along the horizon. I expect -it will strike the track of the homeward drawn bear’s skin. -I hope he will evince sufficient interest in his deceased relative -either to follow the trail of the skin to the ship or to the -carcass; it was far too great a distance to bring in all the -flesh. An eight-foot bear, nose to tail, ten feet four inches -nose to heel, is a frightful weight, about nine hundred and -eighty pounds.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing41.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>It is still the Spaniards’ watch and we steam away back -to where we saw the bears first—if we cannot find whales we -must take bears—<i>En falta de pan, buenas son tortas</i> (If you -cannot get bread, cakes are good enough), and if you cannot -get either bears or whales you must either draw, write, -smoke, or go to bed. I would go to bed, but still have a -lingering interest in my fellows’ proceedings with the above -<i>ursidæ</i>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>After the somewhat exciting afternoon and evening after -bear, the night felt very quiet. Mist fell and stilled the -least ripple. Archie came to my cabin—two can sit in it -with a squeeze—and celebrated the occasion with a pipe and -a glass of aqua vite, and he retold his adventures. I ought -to have been with him, I believe, as comrade, to draw a bead -on the ferocious opponent if necessary, and afterwards put -it all down in paint, but Gisbert is most unerring in his aim, -and being a little lame, I might have kept them back. At -eighty yards, a big bear, Hamilton says, is very imposing, -and when it stalks you to within thirty-five yards and you -give it your best in a vital spot and it is not killed, you are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span> -inclined to wish yourself at home. You think of what will -happen if your foot sticks in the deep snow or if you miss -with your next, or only wound it. The size and shape of -these wild floe-bred bears is far greater than any one may see -in captivity. I suppose the age of the males, their food, and -free life account for their enormous chest measurements -and huge bowed forelegs.</p> - -<p>It is certainly best to attack a bear in couples, on account -of above-mentioned possibilities—lives have been lost by not -doing so.</p> - -<p>As we turned in, the mist rose a little and left a streak of -palest primrose between it and the horizon, the shape of a -great searchlight, but how delicate was the warm violet of -the mist and the darker tint on the smooth water. In other -ten minutes the light increased, then the sky was faintest -yellow, except a low arch of cold bluish tint above the floe -to which we were anchored; on the floe were three small -icebergs.</p> - -<p>Where we are to-night there is little life, only a few petrels -chuckling quietly at our stern, where there is always some -blubber hanging over for their benefit.</p> - -<p>There is not a ripple on the sea, not the slightest perceptible -motion. I think the stillness and silence of the Arctic is a -thing seldom noticed; the hundreds of miles of drifting -floes which surround us break all swell. Everyone sleeps -to-night after the exertions of yesterday. If there is a watch -on deck I do not hear him; in my cabin the only sound is the -snoring of our starboard bear. His berth is close to mine; -when he does not snore he growls, a deep vibrating organ -note, which is a little fearsome, and when he stops the deep -note there is an ominous scrape, scraping in the stillness, -that shows his set purpose to get out, and—what? I wish -he was overboard or in our Zoo, or behind iron bars or something -stronger than fir-wood battens, which he tears into -moss in no time! A rat tearing wood is vexatious in the -silence of the night, but to hear the patient and effective -work going on beside one when you know there is possibly -no one on the look-out, makes one anxious, so I keep my -pistol handy at meal-times and between them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span></p> - -<p>An uneventful Sunday. After the manner of our great examples -of Reformation times, we held mild sports. Fencing, -two entries, F. J. de Gisbert and the writer, we may not -say who took the prize. Lassoing, five entries, De Gisbert and -three Spanish, first Don José Herrero. Don José Herrero now -surpasses our Professor Gisbert, and the writer comes only -a little behind, but still a halo is seen over him for having -lassoed a live bear! Shooting at floating bottles, range inside -thirty yards, Entries, the writer with Browning revolver, -Spaniards mannlicher rifles, easy win for pistol, showing age -and practice make up for telescopic sights. Pipe-playing, -march, strathspey and reel, one entry, a walk over. Guitar -accompaniment, three entries, De Gisbert easily first, steward -and writer draw. Painting water-colour evening effect, one -entry—judge the writer—subject, a pale yellow sky, lilac -strip clouds above floe, floe high in tone, faintest pink with -pale blue in crevices; prize not awarded.</p> - -<p>In evening we tied up to a gap in floe-edge, hoping for -narwhals, because they seem to keep close to edge of the -floe. And sure enough they came when we were at evening -meal, a great black-and-white-spotted bull leading, with a -visible gleam under the still, dark water of his white ivory -horn; after him, more drab-coloured whales, presumably -Madame and bébés. We waited out in our boat, the writer -with harpoon, and pursued two lots. One of them was a -splendid bull, but both lots vanished a fraction of a second -before I got a good chance at them, so we saved powder.</p> - -<p>During the night we got to some extent embayed. We -had floes all round, and raced round like a bird in a trap, -but found a way out of the lake about four <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span></p> - -<p>As we plodded round in the early morning, it rained! -straight down heavy rain and warm at that, with the thermometer -two degrees above freezing—most unexpected and -unsuitable Arctic weather—might as well have rain at -Assouan! When the rain ceased thin mist still hung over -the day and it was very quiet indeed.</p> - -<p>Our Starboard bear seemed to feel the quiet and monotony -and made a very good attempt to get out to-night. He did -not seem very overpowering on the floe, but now, when he got<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span> -his head and one great forefoot out and the timber was -flying and six men struggling to nail him up, he gave one a -sense of great strength. He is now inside the remnants of -timber baulks of about three cages. As he chews one batten -up more timber is nailed on over the first stumps. Some of us -thought the bridge gave a good point of view: the struggling -figure, and the steam of its breath as the cage was turned -over, and Gisbert’s cigarette smoke as he pulled and -hauled and directed the various manœuvres, made a fairly -dramatic picture. I thought my services might be called -on at any minute with my Browning, but six men, -active of mind and body, and various ingenious appliances -of tackles and hatchets and big nails, at last made Bruin -secure, and the stillness of the misty day come over us -again.</p> - -<p>Later, a great narwhal raised his back and tail right -astern, groaned and went under with hardly a ripple, and -we saw his white length come towards us under the glassy -surface and disappear under the ship. So the whale-boat -was lowered and a crew went out and lay a hundred yards -off. My fishing instinct told he was the only one about, so -I stayed on board and painted an ice effect. The whale-boat -and men lay perfectly reflected, and looked almost -too still and colourless through the thin mist to be real, -looking more like a faded print of people waiting for perch -than whalers waiting with stern intent to do or die. Bow -lay on his back smoking, the smoke rising straight up, the -others chatted in subdued voices.</p> - -<p>On board, Pedersen the steward started his guitar and -mouth-organ, and altogether, with the tum-tum, common -waltz music, and the outer stillness it did not feel a bit as it -ought to do in the Arctic regions,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Where there’s frost and there’s snow</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And the stormy winds do blow,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And the daylight’s never done,</div> - <div class="verse indent6">Brave Boys,”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">as the old song goes.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned our many-sided steward. Photography -seems to be another of his accomplishments—hobbies, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span> -should say. Light or no light, he fires his camera. We could -not help smiling the other day when he went for the first -time on to the floe with a party to photograph a bear-hunt. -Hardly had he gone five yards when one leg went deep into -a hole in the floe and his shoe came off. He emptied the -water, and then the other came off, so he hastily fixed his -tripod, fired a shot at the ship and came on board again, -and took to the guitar and his proper offices. To-night a -sudden idea seized him and he left his cosy corner by our -galley fire and Johanna, our “she-cook,” and came with -guitar and that instrument called the mouth-organ, and -arranged our bears’ heads and skins on the main-hatch, and -sat himself down on a block of wood between them and got -one of the men to fire his camera at him. But first he produced -a pocket-mirror, when I called his attention to a hair -being astray, and having arranged that, he pulled his white -jacket into position, fixed up the guitar and mouth-organ -and struck a fine pose. I might have fired a plate at him, -but there was not nearly enough light. The head of -Hamilton’s enormous bear, as if resentful of this last indignity -of having to pose in such a picture, broke the barrel it rested -on as if in protest—even the head and neck is a big lift for -one man.</p> - -<p>Another picture composed itself a little later. We -watered ship from one of these shallow blue pools on the -floe, two men at the pool filling tin pails with a large tin -bailer. To encourage them our jolly, burly <i>vivandière</i> went -out to them with her cheery laugh, carrying a glass and -bottle of aqua vite. There was colour! and if not elegance, -a beauty of fitness, which is saying a good deal for the lady; -the ample, strong form, in pale blue and white pinafore kind -of dress, tripped over the floe, and the deep blue of the -sailors’ clothes and her red cheeks, and the golden yellow -of the aquavit, the grey of the zinc pails, and the blue and -white of the snow, suddenly struck one as the first decided -effect of strong colour contrast which we have seen for -days.</p> - -<p>Nothing very exciting to-day, mist and snow on deck till -evening, when it cleared, and became very calm. We were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span> -all at <i>aften-mad</i> when word came a bear was sighted, so our -Spanish friends armed themselves and went forward to the -bows, and the vessel slowly approached the floe on which -the bear had been seen, and to our astonishment the bear -approached the ship steadily, and lightly climbed a round -snow-block and steadily gazed at us, a pale primrose patch -in a great whiteness, with interesting dark eyes and muzzle. -I have tried to recall the effect, but the highness of the -scheme of colour makes it difficult to paint, and probably -impossible to reproduce by any process of colour-printing.</p> - -<p>Our friends calmly held their fire till within twenty-five -yards when Don José began with his telescope-sighted -mannlicher and hit the bear at his first shot! unfortunately -rather near its tail. The bear, enraged, tore at itself. Then a -sharp fusillade began from both rifles and by-and-by the -bear succumbed. It had been hit not less than five times. -It was only a small bear, but, as Don Luis senior remarked: -“It was forte bien mieux de tirer from the ship than to go -march, march, toujours sur la neige.” This is the way we -speak on board, with a little Spanish thrown in.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Bright sun for once and away we have been steaming -since early morning, south and east, hoping to get -clear of the great floes that bar our way to the west. -I long for mountains, the flat plains of ice-floe and snow grow -very wearisome. Now, near land, these land-floes are like -endless plaster ceiling that has dropped more or less in fragments. -In the Antarctic the floes look as if a Greek temple -had come to bits and lay floating on the sea. There is a -considerable difference, therefore, in appearance; at least -I speak for the southern ice which I have met south-east -of Graham’s Land. There are no seals, therefore we hardly -expect bears, and there is never a sign of the blow of a -whale. Only one narwhal this morning, we almost ran -into it. I wish it had driven its spear into us, it seems -the only hope of getting a good one.</p> - -<p>Floes extend in a line for miles north and south; we -think it will be best now to wait for them to open, rather -than to wander away south in hopes of getting an opening -round them. Shannon Island, on the north-east of Greenland, -is our aim.</p> - -<p>... The floes are flatter, with fewer tombstones protruding -from the level white; it gets monotonous. Mist -comes at night. Hamilton and Gisbert play chess, Don -José and the writer teach each other English and Spanish. -Don Luis plays patience and Don José Herrero does nothing, -with quiet dignity. This morning, after an hour at Spanish, -I turned out first of our party for breakfast and found our -starboard bear also on the point of coming out. It had its -head and feet out and was only stopped by a single rope, a -mere accident, but it puzzled the bear—rope was new to it. -The she-cook and writer were the only people on deck. I -tried to look not afraid and she certainly looked perfectly -cool, and kept on wiping a dish, but went into the galley. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span> -secured my revolver and told the man on the bridge. I -took the wheel, whilst he dashed below and called for help, -and there ensued a wild struggle; Bruin had lost a moment -at the last trifle, the silly rope that was slightly elastic giving -way to his pulling. Several of the crew turned up and got -some thin wood battens, but one after another, as they were -hastily banged across the front, he tore them to bits. And -he has learned that shoving is also effective, and six men this -morning went back at first, to a shove of his two great paws, -till they got leverage. “With a long enough lever you can -move the world”—that is where our men came in. Now he -has about eight inches of timber in front of his nose. I will -give him two days, not more, to get through that. Gisbert -says he is sure to go overboard at once if he comes out. I -think it is as well to have my pistol beside me at breakfast; -we must at least have a chance of some shooting if it takes -charge of the ship and does not go overboard as predicted.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing42.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Gisbert tells at breakfast this touching little tale, possibly -a chestnut, above illustrated. “Once upon a time a hunter -met a bear and said: ‘Here comes my new fur coat,’ and the -bear said: ‘Here comes my breakfast,’ and both were right!” -With such frivolity he soothes our nerves. But the deep, -vibrating note of Starboard and the sound of industrious -scraping keep one on edge for the rasping tearing that -comes when he really sets to work to get out. Some great -chains have now been found in the bottom of our little hold, -and he is now really being treated as a wild animal; the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span> -chains are being fastened all round the woodwork, so I will -allow him other two days to get free. All our wooden -battens are done or nearly done, therefore this resort to -iron.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We—that is, De Gisbert and I—made a small discovery this -morning in rope-throwing—we practise it at odd times, with -the prospect in view of tackling other bears alive, which is -perhaps even higher sport than shooting or photographing -them. For some time we have almost all been able to cast -the ordinary running loop at short range, but are erratic -with the half-hitch cast, such as you use after casting a loop -over a bear’s head to secure its forefoot.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing43.jpg" width="500" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I do not write these details for bear-hunters, but the game -is excellent sport <i>per se</i> on deck, say, on a P. & O. liner outward -bound in August; it would be splendid on any deck, -better than deck quoits. It would be excellent for a -garden-party or sports for Boy Scouts.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span></p> - -<p>You beg or borrow, from the bos’n or laundry-maid, five -fathoms of rope—log line is the best. Splice a metal eye -to the end to make a loop or lasso. Then you fix up a spar, -with a cross-piece, and stand as in this sketch, with the loop—larger -than A, or to taste—and cast over B, with right hand, -and haul taut with left hand. The next thing is to cast a -half-hitch over C. You imagine B is a bear’s head and you -wish to throw a half-hitch over (C) a fore paw, so as to haul -the paw up to the neck and throw the bear. Then you can -try left-hand or right-hand casting over X, which is not so -easy!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing44.jpg" width="500" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>To cast the first lasso loop (note position of hand and eye -in loop A) you swing the loop round the head and let fly -and let the coils of line in left hand go free. This is a little -difficult at first; casting on the half-hitch is much easier if -you lay the line properly, as in Fig. (4). If you lay it as we -did at first, as in Figs. (1) and (2), the loop falls short as in -middle Fig. The idea is to have plenty line to your right, -so as to make a big flowing hitch, as shown in lower Fig. (4).</p> - -<p>Gisbert and I worked out this discovery in the morning till -we could put on hitches every time, and in the afternoon we -challenged the “Professor,” as we call young Don José—because -of his skill in throwing the loop—and his cousin, Don -Luis Velasquez, for a bottle of champagne, and holding our -hand, we easily beat them and felt very slightly ashamed of ourselves -for taking advantage of our small discovery of a knack.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span></p> - -<p>This morning in sunny mist appeared a dot, far away over -the snow, and we put glasses on it and made out a seal. As -our young men thoughtfully hung back from a stalk, it was -left for De Gisbert and the writer to make the effort. Finally -the writer started over very rough going, with very little -chance of getting within shot, still, just to show an example, -we felt one of us must try.</p> - -<p>So we climbed over the bow and got on to the floe-edge and -away from ship. It was very charming on the floe amongst -these ice tombstones and ledges fringed with huge icicles -that, in a wide view, are simply monotonous white, but -which all become very sweet and beautiful when you are -close to them and can examine the details at leisure. The -only way to see nature thoroughly is to have it rubbed into -you. Who can see a rainstorm with an umbrella up? -When you have one leg in a hole in the floe and the other on -the floe, and hands, rifle and staff going, you do not know -how deep, there is plenty of time for the dripping icicles -over the blue ledge in front of you to impress themselves on -your memory; and for a time at least, the seal you are -stalking, or even the bear that may be stalking you, or -when you think of the beauty in front, the cold in your -boots, become of little importance.</p> - -<p>Then you toil on, dripping from nose and eyebrows just -like the icicles, for on this blessed day of days through these -mist wreaths there is hot sun and the ice-floe glitters gloriously. -Everyone said that the seal could not be approached. -But by dint of much consideration and a crawl here and -there, I managed to get within a hundred and fifty or a -hundred and sixty yards. Then I thought, “Just to show -what could be done by old age and experience,” I’d try to -get even closer—to a hundred yards—that lost the seal for -me; for when I got behind the tiny knob of ice I aimed at the -seal had got into its hole in the floe. For the last fifty yards -I was following the two or three days’ old track of a bear; I -wonder if he and I had both stalked the same seal with the -same result.</p> - -<p>A day’s stalk, or rather a few hours’ stalk, after a seal suits -my taste, and Hamilton agrees. He says, apropos of a big<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span> -serious old bear-stalk: “Give me a pheasant cover, with -nothing on four legs bigger than a spaniel.” You don’t -then have that sensation of cold water: you are quite comfortable -and can claw down your birds and chat with any -fair one who has begged to see you do it.</p> - -<p>From above, the careful reader may gather that we have at -least in this Greenland sea seen the sun. It is nice! Now, -as I write, about twelve o’clock midnight, it may be said to -be shining; and in the rays, with double winter clothing, -it is really quite warm. But in the shade there are many -degrees of frost; that is why the icicles hang so beautifully -to-day over the blue ledges on the shaded side of the raised -edges on the floes.</p> - -<p>It is a poor floe and feeble ice compared to that in the -South. We passed a berg this afternoon, an Arctic berg, so -we said: “How grand!” But in my mind I saw again the -stupendous ice-cliffs of the South and their vast green caves, -into which you could pack a dozen such Arctic iceberg chips.</p> - -<p>The atmosphere and colouring here remind me of the east -coast of Scotland in June, clear, crystalline, unenveloping, -quite unlike the velvety feeling of our west, towards the -Gulf Stream, say down the Wigtownshire coast, or the west -of Spain.</p> - -<p>I have often seen this scenery depicted in old whaling -pictures, where the ships and whalers look quite large in -proportion to the ice-forms. This is the difference between -Arctic and Antarctic. In one, man and his vessels dominate -the scene, in the other the great forms of nature make man -and his works seem very small.</p> - -<p>This afternoon with my pistol I shot an old female seal -through the brain—this after a futile stalk of hours for a seal -in the morning with long-range rifle and telescope sight.</p> - -<p>Though we can’t find whales yet, the colour of the water is -promising; it is full of plankton: if you draw a muslin -net through it you collect in a few yards, in the tail of the -bag, an almost transparent jelly—a minute quantity of -which, examined under the microscope, reveals marvellous -beauty, millions of minute crustaceans and diatoms that fill -you with wonder at the life in the seas, which infinitely<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span> -surpasses in multiplicity the life of the land or the air. These -probably form the food of the shrimps and little cuttle-fish, -and the narwhals eat the cuttle-fish.</p> - -<p>The narwhal we caught the other day was full of small -cuttle-fish, only about a few inches across the spread of their -tentacles, and it also held red prawns or shrimps. But the -cachalot or sperm whale of the warm seas kills very large -cuttle-fish. We dare not say up to what size. I myself -have only seen the sperm, after it has been harpooned, eject -small cuttle-fish, but large circular marks in their backs, -something like Burmese writing magnified, look as if they -had been caused by the sucker on the tentacles of enormous -cuttle-fish, and wandering grooves over their sides suggest -that the parrot-like beak of the cuttle-fish has made its mark. -I have seen one of these at least thirty-five feet in length. -The contents of the stomach of many of the largest whales -in the world, Balænoptera Sibaldi (Blue) and Balænoptera -Musculus (Finner), which are killed nowadays, consist -almost entirely of small shrimps, about one quarter of the -size of the common shrimp. On the landing and flensing -stage of Alexandra Company in Shetland, after several -finner whales have been cut up, I have seen piles of this -shrimp food lying on the slip, amounting to several tons -in weight, with only, on rare occasions, a few minute fish -amongst it all.</p> - -<p>The food of the whale that used to be more common up -here, the Right whale, Balæna Mysticetus, is about the size -of barleycorns and looks rather like sago with a brownish -tint. The whale takes a mouthful of these, plus water, -and squeezes the water through the blades of whalebone -round the edge of its mouth, each of which has a fringe of -hairs on the inside. These hairs, interwoven, make a surface -to the palate like that of a cocoanut mat, which makes a -perfect strainer. Then the whale swallows the mass of minute -crustaceans that is left on its tongue and palate. The tongue -is an immense floppy plum-coloured thing like a deflated -balloon. I would give much to know exactly how its nerves -and muscles act so as to work down the minute food from -its palate into the throat. Smaller Finner whales we know<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span> -of, which feed on herring, round the Shetlands and British -coast, locally called Herring Hog, or Springer, run to thirty -feet or so. They are not hunted as yet by the modern -whaler as they are rather too small to be worth towing to -the station, but no doubt their day will come when our -industries need them, and the large whales become more -shy and hard to capture.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/drawing45.jpg" width="700" height="225" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Arctic and Antarctic Proportions</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>This chapter will show that it is foolish to sit up -late, and that it does not do to shoot polar -bears in pyjamas. Last night Hamilton and I -sat up fairly late playing vingt-et-un for matches. But -the Dons and De Gisbert sat up still later, almost all -night, brewing a concoction of seal-oil and things on -the cabin stove for boots. Just as they succeeded, it -upset all over the shoulder of Don José junior’s coat. -They were very merry, but they should have been in bed, as -it was their morning watch at nine o’clock, and they went -to bed not long before that hour. Spaniards are quite -reckless of the night hours, a few days’ stay in Madrid will -convince anyone of this—the people walk about all night. -The aforesaid brothers when they did turn in got into -pyjamas—how people cling to custom. Gisbert, being more -experienced, of course turned in all standing, as anyone of -any polar experience always does. Now they are sorry for -these late hours and for sleeping in pyjamas, for result. -Soon after they had turned in, there appeared a very large -she-bear and two cubs close to the floe-edge, which could -have been shot from the bow. Just the chance they like, -no horrid walking and stalking over snow. Gisbert was -ready in a minute, but they lost the precious time getting -out of the pyjamas into warm clothes, and the bear could -not wait, and perforce they had to follow her over the snow -and a fog came down.</p> - -<p>They have lost it; and here we are, a whole ship’s company, -sleeping, or doing nothing but grousing and counting -the hours, as we lie on dead-still water in dead-still fog—which -is waste of time and patience and is quite absurd, -Q.E.D.</p> - -<p>We are back to our last bear forest, “the woods are full -of them,” as Hamilton says; back to bear-hunting because<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span> -there are no whales and because our path west and south -and north is barred with ice. Perhaps by the middle of -August there may be a road open to the land. We have seen -the mist on the hills, at any rate a wide stretch of many -miles of whitish light thrown up to the sky, which tells us -that the land is there and that we are not more than fifty -or sixty miles distant from it.</p> - -<p>We still hope to get the she-bear and the cubs; they -are nice small cubs, not like the well-grown wicked fellows -we have on board; we could almost make pets of these -small fellows.</p> - -<p>A man we know of got one a year or two ago. He was -one of three Norwegians left on a certain island in these -latitudes—we will not give its exact bearings—to collect -skins during a winter. They got a hundred bearskins and -ninety white fox of considerable value, and they are there -still in barrels, and ought to be quite good yet. They lost -their boat and were picked up and taken home. They had -a baby bear, which they brought up on the bottle. It was -a charming pet till about twelve months old and then he had -to be destroyed or he would have killed them in play.</p> - -<p>I am sorry to say here that at <i>middag’s-mad</i> we, aft the -mainmast, had not remembered this was Sunday till pancakes -came on the table. As the second lot arrived the steward -stepped in rather quietly and whispered: “A seal astern,” -so we jumped out with the pistol (by what some might call -a lucky shot), hit it through the brain and it floated dead, -and a white ivory gull hung over it. It was just the kind of -skin, too, I wanted for the projected motoring coat. Then -we realised it was Sunday, and to make up leeway we displayed -bunting, the Royal Spanish Yachting Club and our -Royal Eastern Yacht Club—the vice-commodore’s—and the -Red Lion of Scotland (the origin of which is buried in the -mist of historical obscurity) at the fore, quite a gallant -display for such short notice.</p> - -<p>With the flags’ first flutter the air went round to the north, -and now, instead of being heavy and depressing, there is a -bracing feeling, and the eye can see far and wide amongst the -lanes of sea-water and the floes of hummocky ice. Harp<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span> -seals dash across the surface of the loch we are in, as if they -too enjoyed the change from damp, heavy air to the keen, -sharp, exhilarating air from the north. There is no use -firing at these harp seals in the water, for they always sink -on being shot. Besides, some of us think a shot might -disturb the she-bear and family. She went off to a floe -about the size of Perthshire, and we follow round northerly, -and perhaps to-morrow morning we may sight her again.</p> - -<p>One of the prettiest and rarest things in the world is to -see a mother bear with her cubs, the little yellow fellows -with their black eyes and noses jumping and rolling over -their mother, pulling her ears, and the old bear showing every -sign of love for her offspring. Then to see the old bear -stalking a seal and the little ones sitting away behind, jogging -each other, making notes about their mother’s cleverness. -Their education takes two years. The smaller black bear -of Newfoundland and America sends away its young after -one year’s teaching; there means of subsistence are more -simply obtained, there is so much wild fruit and so many -roots and other things for them to eat. But to stalk a seal -up here on these flat ice-floes, even with a rifle, takes very -considerable skill. I speak with feeling. For the bear to get -within clinching distance must require even greater experience. -The polar bear has usually two and sometimes three -of a family, not oftener than once in two years. The mother -is frequently seen with only one cub and the father is then -supposed to have eaten the other. The male bear is said to -take little or no interest in the education of its young. Why -the young, two or three year old bear we first caught -showed such interest in the old bear, Hamilton’s first bear, -I cannot quite understand, for though he kept half-a-mile -to leeward he always seemed to have an eye lifting for the -old bear’s movements. I wonder if he was waiting for the -old fellow to kill something, then to drop in on a neighbourly -call about meal-time.</p> - -<p>Alas, this journal is all bear as yet, and no whale to speak -of; I have never been in such lifeless water anywhere in -regard to cetacean life. And yet we should see various -whales, the Balæna Mysticetus, called the Right whale,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span> -bowhead or Greenland, the fat, slow, but valuable whale -of the old-fashioned whaling....</p> - -<p>In the evening a bear was spotted. Gisbert and Don -José and three men set out after it. With the glasses we -saw the bear disappear in the distance and then the little -black spots of straggling figures also disappeared. They -returned several hours later in the best of spirits, though -they had never seen the beast. They had fallen in with -a curious experience. On the floe they found a greeny blue -grotto—I remember we saw them standing on a high ridge, -it must have been under this—into which they went, and -were amused at the ghastly silvery appearance of their -hands and faces. It was about fifteen yards long, and they -could walk in upright, with a blue shallow pool in the middle, -and overhead part of the snow and ice was thawed to about -a thickness of a few inches and the blue light shining through -this with icicles hanging thick, gave an effect that can be -imagined. I think I would rather have seen that than have -killed the bear. There were no bears in the grotto; but I -know of a man, Captain Yule by name, of Dundee, who -killed—well, I hardly like to say how many bears, in such a -cave. Take a blue cave, whity yellow bears with their -dark eyes and the sombre figure of the man, and rifle smoke, -flame and blood, and you have a picture fit for the cover of -The Wide World Magazine.</p> - -<p>They had walked about ten kilometres over snow, rough -going, and came back about one <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>, wet, with ice on beards -and moustaches, but glowing and happy with the exercise. -They had a hot grog, got off long boots and were very comfortable, -when another bear was spotted, and away they went -over the bow by the rope-ladder to the ice, chawing biscuits -and chocolate as they went. Don José being a little tired -his cousin took his place, and Gisbert went off merrily. -Spaniards are very sporting so far as I know them; they -work up to their collars, always keep up a cheery appearance, -and—can’t they sleep after exercise—it is now past midday -and there is not a sign of any of them! There is a fresh -breeze, but it is foggy, with sun overhead, so we cannot -do much.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span></p> - -<p>To put in time I took a boat after a hooded-seal, which I -spotted through a lift in the sunny haze about a mile off -on a small floe. We excuse ourselves killing seals by thinking -of the benefit we confer on our fellow-men in the South by -adding to the general store of material used in the manufacture -of margarine and olive oil; but besides this base -commercial consideration we have our captive bears to -consider, they must exist, to afford amusement and instruction -some day in our Zoological Park in Edinburgh, -London, or Madrid. As I approached, the seal finally shovelled -himself off the snow into the sea and disappeared. Trusting -to its showing some curiosity, we waited, and it came up -about a hundred yards off, and showed part of its head, -which I managed to hit, but it disappeared. So we waited -about the place, and by-and-by it came up only about twenty -yards away, when a shot from the pistol finished its pain. -In my experience it is a very rare thing for a seal to reappear -after being wounded or killed. I must disagree with -Sir Ernest Shackleton in this matter. He said in a lecture -to our Royal Geographical Society apropos of Antarctic -seals: “As fast as we killed them, up they came again.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing46.jpg" width="400" height="375" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>It is a strange life this up North, a little while ago mist -and cold, and you longed to be home—wherever that might -be—and now the sun is shining hot, and you might be in a -yacht off Aberdeen in summer; it is the same crystalline -atmosphere, with cold air, hot sun, but bracing—very nice -indeed! But up here there is some risk!—only two hours -ago we were in a tight place. No real old Arctic whaler -would mention this; they all minimise dangers—for their own -comfort; if they did not, they would end in staying on shore -and going to the workhouse. But the writer, who is only -an amateur whaler who “only plays hide-and-seek with the -sea,” as a nephew of mine puts it, may be allowed to say that -there was grave danger, and putting aside whale and bear -dangers, there was in this one of our first really nice, sunny -evenings, a very serious prospect of our spending the last -few months of our lives on a floe with a failing commissariat. -We ran ourselves on to a green ice tongue that we thought -had enough water over it to float us, and got fast. I was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span> -below, and though accustomed to the ordinary shock of -ramming ice, I knew at once, by the long rise of our bows -and the roll to port and starboard that we were in a fix. -Perhaps a small diagram may help to explain—so here you -see two floes meeting, bright sunshine, blue sky overhead, -and rippling blue water where there are open pools in the -ice—a scene of perfect summer peace. The two floes, each -weighing millions of tons, are very wide; they are slowly -moving towards each other; they nearly meet; and we -mistakenly try to get between them before they close, and -run our stem and -half our keel on to -A, the submerged -ice-foot of the floe -B. The floe C is -coming towards us -in the direction of -B—well, to cut it -short, if the floes -C and B meet, with -the Fonix between -them, our party, -thirty all told, have -our little house -squeezed, and when the floe opens our home goes -down and we get on to the floe till we are rescued -by some relief expedition, or we flicker out. But for -having lots to do I personally would have felt the -necessity of a pipe or a dram—but as it was the writer -and two men and a boat had their hands full, getting out -an ice-anchor and wire-rope astern to D to kedge her -off. The said hawser burst and the artist showed the seamen -the bend for a wire-rope, in a hurry or at any time. -Boy Scouts know it. Hamilton stood by at the wheel and -Svendsen and men shifted the cargo aft to take the weight -off the bow. An ice-tongue of floe C touched at D and -gave us breathing-space and by-and-by we kedged her off -astern, just in time to avoid a squeeze, and got through -between the floes. One might write a chapter about our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span> -manœuvres, but now the guitar is going and the skipper -has thanked the artist for handling that nasty rough, rusty -wire hawser against time, and expressed somewhat flattering -surprise at his knowing how to make a simple fisherman’s -bend in a hurry; and again we are in open, quiet waters -and open ice, with a hundred yards between each floe, and -everyone frightfully cheerful. For some of us at least knew, -though our Spanish friends apparently did not, the grim -possibilities. Also we are all the better of the efforts in a -small boat and the work of shifting cargo, barrels of salt, -etc. I guess and bet Svendsen will not take any more -unnecessary chances of dodging through too narrow lanes -between this time and the next.</p> - -<p>By late <i>aften-mad</i> we have quieted down, and have a -beautiful display of the bull ring. Chee Chee, our young -Gordon setter (or collie; it’s a little of both), does the bull, -Don Luis Herrero de Velasquez does our espada, and other -bull-ring functionaries all to perfection, with a foil for the -espada and a sack for the Vueltu, this on our upper deck -in the ten o’clock <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> sun, everyone applauding and the -steward’s guitar joining in below. His music is very -cheap music, in such a contrast to Gisbert’s old airs, -half Spanish, half African, that go away down to the -depths.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>“Ugh—ugh!” our starboard bear shouts to-day; not -a roar now, it is a hopeless complaint. “Ugh! let -me out—ugh! look at my coat, all stained and -soiled.... Ugh! let me out, I don’t want to go to a zoo”—then -almost silence, only a steady chawing of timber and -scrape, scrape, for hours on end.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The above labour ended in his getting his head and one -paw out this morning early, and the skipper and Hamilton -only being about—the rest of the crew were afloat in the -boats—they had a lively time. The skipper anxiously -shouted: “All hands on board!” and they came and all bore -a hand, and there were timbers, nails, hatchets and hammers -all about, and bears’ roars, till it was subdued. Hamilton -got his hand hurt. It is a wily fellow this starboard bear, -waiting his opportunity till all were overboard hunting, and -again I expected to have to use my pistol. Almost all -hands were in the boats securing two bear cubs, about a -third of the size of the bear referred to. We spotted them -and their mother on a floe about five <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>, playing together, -poor things, and they took to the water and we pursued. -Dauntlessly we approached, Don José in the bow, rifle in -hand. Without tremor he calmly held his fire till within a -few yards; the first shot went extremely close, a second -actually touched the bear, but the range gradually shortening -allowed of greater accuracy and the third shot hit it in -the neck and killed it.</p> - -<p>A boat followed the two youngsters, and after a number -of ineffective throws they were at last roped. From board-ship -we rather smiled at the ineffective attempt to lasso, but -we gather that several casts were well thrown and over their -necks, but each time the cunning little beggars threw the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span> -noose off their heads with their paws so quickly that there -was not time to haul taut.</p> - -<p>Now there is a frightful row going on; the two cubs are -roped alongside and the two seniors on board, all are shouting: -“B-e-a-r, b-e-a-r, w-augh, w-augh, b-e-a-r.” Holy smoke! -It is as if half-a-dozen zoos were in chorus and were shouting -for dinner; it is a frightfully tiresome, irritating sound, -arranged so by Nature, I suppose. No mother bear could -shut her ears to it, were she alive. The two cubs, each on a -line, are swimming; they seem to prefer the water to the floe-edge. -A huge mushroom of ice, pale blue and of exquisite -form, drifted alongside, and the young male cub got on to it -and it slowly turned over—how he swore and gnashed at -his rope; but what exquisite delicate colours, the bears, -the ice, and the reflections make. They are brother and -sister; the brother is the stronger and makes, if possible, -more row than his sister in their struggles for liberty. But -he threatened his sister, thought it was all her fault. He -was swimming behind her and made a pretence at biting her; -she did not argue, simply turned, and in a second put her four -white teeth into his cheek and the yellow face flushed with -blood and he said no more. So they go on complaining -together or alternately to us and to all nature. Now the -little woman goes on to the floe-edge blown, wheezing and -puffing—how she tugs violently at the rope, a faint primrose -heap of impotent anger and wretchedness spurning the white -snow. “Bear” or “Bé-waugh” in bear language must -mean “Mother, why don’t you come to help us?” The -sea is red with poor mother from our scuppers. Her skin is -off her pathetic-looking red body, to decorate the boudoir -of some lady of Spain.</p> - -<p>To condescend to the base commercial aspect of our -hunting, a living bear is undoubtedly of much greater value -than a dead bear’s skin, yet I believe our joy would emphatically -be greater were our four live bears dead, for apart -from the natural fear of our lives, should either of the larger -couple get out, we have to endure their ghastly chorus at all -hours.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus34"> -<img src="images/illus34.jpg" width="700" height="400" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Towing Two Bear Cubs to the “Fonix”</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus35"> -<img src="images/illus35.jpg" width="700" height="525" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Captive Polar Bear Cub Climbing on to a Drift Ice</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Hamilton, being nearest, perhaps suffers more than some of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span> -us; we try to encourage him by pointing out the opportunity -there is of developing his taste for natural history, and the -Seton-Thomson effect at a lecture he might make with even -a fair imitation of the language of these large carnivoræ. -He and I agree to differ about the qualities of our first two -bears. Because our Port bear was evidently interested in -the very large male bear which he shot, he thinks it is the -biggest, strongest and altogether the most perfect bear for -a zoo, and because I lassoed the Starboard bear, I naturally -think its dimensions and spirit are superb, and I point out -that its three almost successful attempts for freedom are -proof of this. Yes, I still back “Starboard” for trouble. -Hamilton says Port bear has eaten through more wood -than my Starboard bear. I think he is wrong by an inch -or two; at any rate my bear has required tons more iron -chain, and sacks of nails.</p> - -<p>The drifted pine, which we found on the floe weeks ago, is -all used up for Starboard’s cage; he has torn through three -plies of one-and-a-half-inch battens, now over the remains he -has chains, baulks of the pine-tree and other bits of timber. -At some places the wood is a foot thick, and yet I still back -him against the field to get out first.</p> - -<p>Getting the bears on deck and into cages, even though -they are just cubs and a third of the size of Port and Starboard, -was an interesting sight; pathetic if you look at it in -a way. Fancy the strength of these little heroes that look -about the size of a man. They took six men each and a -powerful steam-winch to overcome them. Fluff went the -steam and up came the kicking, roaring, yellow-white -bundle of strength and teeth, with a strop round its waist, -and a line round its neck. Lower away! and the winch -reverses and the ice-bear comes down from the sky and is -guided to the open top of his cage by the line on his neck -led through the lowest bar of the front of his cage, and -as he is lowered by the winch two men haul on it, so his -head is kept down and his mind occupied with the rope -on his neck; whilst other men rapidly nail on battens -above his back, then the rope to his neck is cut and he -quickly rids himself of the noose—brother and sister are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span> -side by side—or end on, in one cage, with a partition between -them....</p> - -<p>Already they take seal blubber, and Gisbert has put a tin -of preserved milk into their drinking water. Their poor -gums were bleeding with efforts to chaw the wicked ropes -that held them by the neck....</p> - -<p>Four <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> The children are now more quiet, one condescends -to lick my finger and has accepted several slices of -fresh seal blubber, with every manifestation of pleasure, and -it carefully licks each paw afterwards, toe by toe.</p> - -<p>Now it is my watch for a bear, and I do not feel in the -least inclined for more bear, on the floe in orthodox style, -or in the water style, which Scoresby cautiously observes -“presents a certain amount of safety.” He studied in -Edinburgh University. A belt of mist is down again to -westward and there is a fine fog bow; we are in the sun, -but cannot proceed, blindfolded, as it were. We might get -into some cul-de-sac in the floe ice.</p> - -<p>Odd, is it not, that only a few minutes after writing expressions -of disinclination for bear I was working at a poor -attempt to get effect of a fog bow in water-colour, and someone -shouted “Bear!” and I had to dive for rifle and pistol, -tumbled into the boat with four men and rowed away into -the sun’s glitter. Sure enough the bear was there, swimming -across from one tiny floe to another, so there was the chance -in the water recommended by Scoresby. We swung along -at a good rate and I got it, first shot, in the centre of the -brain, at about twenty yards with the pistol, which made up -a little for the absence of a stalk. Great was the joy of the -men over the ·38 automatic and its deadly effect. To -anyone who has not had the excitement of shooting a sitting -rabbit, I would recommend polar bear shooting in the water: -on a floe in difficult ground there is a chance for the bear, -a definite chance, and quite a good chance too for the bear, -if the hunter is a duffer. But of course, as compared with -rabbit-shooting, there is the difficulty of getting to a floe with -a bear on it, and you may be nipped in the ice, or you may -die of scurvy, so rabbit-shooting taking it all round may be -safer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span></p> - -<p>One of the bears on board, the poor little female cub, was -most touching, when this pistolled bear was brought on -board. She longed for a mother, and tore at her cage to get -out to this last bear, a female, but in no time it was skinned -and cut up to become our daily food, for we must eat bear -now three times a day, our fresh food from Trömso having -gone bad and tasteless some time ago.</p> - -<p>The mist lifted in bands, and strips of colour came into -the sky where the sun ought to have set, but obstinately -swung round high above the horizon, and the sea became -literally as calm as a mill-pond, and now all the scraps of -floe, separating in the stillness, are perfectly reflected. One -piece of ice in particular we notice against the vivid lavender -with deep bottle-green transparency when the midnight sun -shines through it.</p> - -<p>As we enjoyed the stillness and mystery of the rising mist, -Hamilton said he thought—no, he said he did see land; and -we said, “Oh!” and “Really!” and doubted, but it was!—a -little hard point above the low bank of mist on the horizon, -and everyone got their glasses out and gradually Greenland -became more distinct—no doubt now, mountain-tops, -heaven be praised, hills again. We have only been about -four weeks away from land; still, that gives one a deep -heart-longing for it. We had almost made up our minds -that we were not to see Greenland this year, possibly never, -but we have seen its mountains! Even supposing the floes -close up and gales come, and we are driven back, still, we have -seen these icy mountains we promised to see long ago. I -wish there were several artists here—there is beauty, delicacy -and colour enough to keep all busy.</p> - -<p>Possibly the colour and reflections, and the view of mountains -appeal to us on account of the many days we have -spent in the misty plains of flat ice floe. It will be difficult -now to sleep with the thought of land and rocks under foot, -saxifrage, Arctic poppies, and possibly musk oxen, and -possibly even a mosquito or two, and ptarmigan, and possibly -great walrus on the land ice. I certainly greatly desire one -splendid pair of walrus tusks. That and a musk ox’s head -and a narwhal’s horn will satisfy me. I do not want a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span> -museum; still, there is always some small corner in a house -or studio where such things may be stowed to serve as -reminders of days in the open.</p> - -<p>There is very fine ice forming on the still water; the -surface looks as if it had a scum of liquid like melted sugar -in an imperceptible form of ice. Other parts are covered -with more developed ice-crystals. There is a pleasant, soft, -rustling sound, or hissing, as we go through it.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing47.jpg" width="500" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>We have a seal or two in view—a hooded-seal we have just -got. Don Luis Velasquez made a very pretty shot at its -neck at a hundred yards. Now there is a larger kind, a mile -or two off in our line of route; Gisbert will have a shot at it. -This thin ice forming now is pleasant enough, but the same -formation, if we were here a little later, would make us -anxious to get out and off home before it got too strong.</p> - -<p>There is really colouring in the sky this midnight, sun -reflections, salmon and pink—the first decidedly warm -colours we have seen since leaving Trömso. Some of the -ice-blocks assume strange tints, one piece with dark lilac -pillars supporting the portal of a cave with three arched -entrances each fringed with icicles—inside a glory of greens -and blues. Did fairies live in this cold land, such should be -their palace.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing48.jpg" width="500" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>To-day, 31st of July, in the early morning, we got to within -a few miles of Shannon Island, North-East Greenland, and -could see the snowy lomonds behind it. Though the land is -almost entirely snow-clad, it looks comforting after a month -at sea. But the pack ice is too jammed to the west to allow us -to land, so we steer slowly south, winding in and out amongst -the ice-islands, sometimes shoving a small one aside. We -picked up a big seal this morning, a bearded seal, P. Barbata; -it is the biggest seal of the Arctic. Still steering southerly, -Greenland faint to the westward, with glasses we see fiords -and glaciers. Sky and sea silky and still, the only sound -the faint pulsation of our little engine. It is hot in the sun! -I can hardly believe it, and yet huge icicles are forming round -the edges of the ice-tables. The endless floes grow wearisome. -There is too little life. There are only a few seals, -only a few sea-birds and not a sign of a whale. The pensive -sunlit stillness of the day and the mirror-like surface of the -ocean were scarcely disturbed this afternoon by the slaughter -of two great blue seals. The largest showed that a bear -had lately paid it attention, by the cuts on its enormous -body. It weighed on the steelyard three hundred kilos, -equal to six hundred and sixty-seven pounds; about the -weight of four policemen. A big bear with one paw can lift -such a seal out of the water and throw it several yards on to -the floe. The blue seal is rather like the Barbata or bearded -seal, excepting the colour of its coat, which is more brown -than the blue seal’s. Each has a very small head in proportion -to the bulk of the body, both have only rudimentary -teeth, they eat crabs and seaweed. Whether the teeth are -provided for the purpose or whether the seal is restricted to -such small fry because it has such poor teeth, is perhaps a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span> -matter which would be best discussed at the Royal Physical -Society in Edinburgh or London after lunch.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing49.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Phoca Barbata</p> -</div> - -<p>It may seem discontented, but I must confess this prolonged -fine weather (we have had seventy-two hours of the -same white sunlight) begins to get a little on our nerves. -Nature here is -so extremely -mathematically -laid out. The -sea is polished -to a high point, -all the little -cloudlets are -arranged in such -order that ribbed -sea-sand would -be quite irregular -in comparison. -So of course -you have these cloudlets, level bands of pale blue and some -faint yellows, all repeated in the mirror. Very high-toned -delicate colour, but, if I may criticise, just a little sickly. -I think with the advance of years one does not find these -extremely delicate harmonies quite satisfying, one rather -longs for ruddy, tawny colours and tropic blues in their -deepest notes.</p> - -<p>It is so calm, so stagnant, if I may say so, that our thin -brown smoke hangs in wisps where we left it many hours -ago. And yet for all the smoothness and polish there is an -untidy aspect, for there are little and great bits of ice floating -all over the place. There being no wind, little scraps of ice -and big bits get all separated, and each takes up a bit of sea -to itself. When there is any wind these pieces herd or pack -together. We trust that the ice along the shore may soon -follow this example, for it is only pack ice, not the fixed shore -ice of winter. We hope it will disperse in a day or two and -let us inshore to see “the saxifrage and poppies.”</p> - -<p>With the glass we frequently look at the faint far-away -mountains and glaciers. A little while ago I thought in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span> -silence I heard a shot from away over there, thirty or twenty-five -miles off—no, it must have been a glacier cracking, a -berg calving, perhaps. That sound carries in such weather -a tremendous distance, and so too does the wave made in -the sea by the ice-cliffs falling.</p> - -<p>Vessels lying in calm several miles away from such glaciers -have been nearly swamped with the wave raised by a calving -berg.</p> - -<p>The evenings are now, on the 1st of August, just distinguishable -from the day by a little increase of yellow in the sky -and pink on the snow. To-night the sea froze over with a -thin coat of ice and we go rustling through it.</p> - -<p>Later, about twelve o’clock, we were in an open lane, -between floes and no thin ice, where a family of narwhals -seemed to be working for their living. So we lowered a -whale-boat as quietly as possible and rowed gently after -them, and as usual, just as we got, say, to within forty yards, -and held the harpoon aimed ready to drive it into the biggest -bull, say at twenty yards, for they show very little above -water, they quietly slipped under for other ten or twenty -minutes, and then appeared several hundred yards away. -With modern big harpoon-gun from the bow of the small -whaling steamer, we can harpoon from thirty to forty yards, -but in shooting from the bow of small boat close to water’s -level the range is more limited. We tried waiting, following, -and circumvention, and when we tried to cut across their -course, one of them broke water actually between the oar -blades and the boat and made a great swirl; and evidently -this too close contact scared the family party, and they all -disappeared, and we went on board, still hopeful, however, -for three times at least we had been within a second, or say -two yards, of our chance of securing a great white ivory horn.</p> - -<p>... Our patience was tried again and the writer’s was -found wanting. I had turned in and heard the boat being -lowered away, and let a crew go without me, and never heard -them come back, though there must have been thunderous -treading of sea-boots on deck a foot above my head, ropes -falling and blocks rattling—you can sleep soundly here when -you get the chance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span></p> - -<p>But C. A. H. complains that he cannot, for, poor man, -the two new bear cubs are almost touching his bunk, and -their scrape, if not very loud, is pretty constant, and bear -perfume permeates his cabin even more than the rest of the -ship. But praise be, there is a light breeze to-day from -landward. I have not yet observed any scent of saxifrage -or Arctic poppies, but it has freshened the too still atmosphere -and we hope it will help to open up the land pack and -let us land for musk oxen.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing50.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">PAZE</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing51.jpg" width="500" height="350" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">EL CATHARO VALIENTE</p> -<p class="caption-sub"><span class="smcap">Note.</span>—For description of above drawings see <a href="#Page_274">pp. 274-275</a>.</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;" id="illus36"> -<img src="images/illus36.jpg" width="460" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Shows Captive Bear Cubs, Brother and Sister, and Ice -Beginning to Form on the Sea Water</span></p> -</div> - -<p>Our starboard bear raised Cain! almost all the wood of -his cage is chawed up, so round the inside of the remainder<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span> -we have hung heavy iron furnace bars and other round -bars, holding the furnace bars more or less in position, there -are ropes, chains and wire round all—a horrible sight, for -the poor fellow inside, with all his struggles and the black of -the furnace bars, is quite black, and he has lost a lot of hair. -I would give a good deal to see him free again and over the -side. But I pray heaven he does not settle his account with -me before he goes for having roped him into his present sad -condition. I believe it was the noise of the fight he put up -that awakened me this morning, at least what I heard made -me look out, and sure enough there were six men struggling -with crowbars, hammers, axes, etc., etc., and then poor -Bruin’s black head appeared between timbers and nails for -a moment, till he was again closed up. It would take a -couple of months of the ice and snow to clean his coat again.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing52.jpg" width="500" height="250" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing53.jpg" width="500" height="250" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>In the afternoon—now he is almost quiet, for when he -tries to claw at the wood through the cast-iron bars they fall -back into place again, and he cannot eat iron! So he is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span> -thinking now which is the weak point; in a day or two he will -attack it. I am very sorry for him, now he is quiet and a little -red shows where he has been scratched. I can imagine, like -the old Scottish fighting Admiral Barton, that he murmurs:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“A little I’m hurt but not yet slain,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I’ll but lie down and bluid a while</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And then I’ll rise and ficht again.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> -<img src="images/drawing54.jpg" width="225" height="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>A mist came over the scene this afternoon, with light shining -through, but enough to stop us making progress, even should -the ice-pack allow us. So we -moor fore and aft alongside a -small floe and set to work with -pails to fill our fresh-water tanks -from the three blue pools on it, -pale blue flushed with lilac, -cobalt round the rim of each. -We stroll on the hard snow, -stuff like coarse salt laid down -on a blue translucent carpet, and -play the pipes, and play with -Chee Chee, the ship’s pet. The -only game she does not like is -being lassoed. Finding a mit -hidden in the snow suits her, -and a great many other games -taught by various instructors.</p> - -<p>Our youngest Spanish señor -ventured to row away from the -ship a little this morning, and -this the youngest Don Luis -Herrero told me a fine yarn -about how he had come on a -splendid saddle-seal unexpectedly—that -is a dappled -brown and white kind we have not got as yet; he described -it vividly as seen from five yards. Gisbert at lunch told me -it was a make-up, therefore the writer tried to pull his leg -in return by illustrating his pretended encounter with the -famous seal as per marginal notes. (<a href="#Page_272">See p. 272-273.</a>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span></p> - -<p>You may not think it, but such a small attempt at an -amusing drawing caused laughter on board. You see a little -joke goes a long way in the ice-pack, as for instance the -drawing below.</p> - -<p>The only mild excitement to-day, 2nd August, was a boat -expedition, with los señores, two rifles in the bow, and two -pairs of oars, against a large harp-seal, with a splendid white -skin and large black spots, suggestive of an A1 carriage-rug. -Fire opened at a hundred yards (the first shot was -accidental), but several struck the water quite close and in -front of the seal, which made it take up a very indignant -attitude, and for an instant it seemed to hesitate as if it -thought a retreat on to the floe would be its safest course. -But a bullet finally hit it in the back and it acted on its first -intention and dived off the floe. The two Don Josés were -rather disconsolate, for certainly it had a very beautiful skin. -We hoped to get quite a lot of these large harp-seal skins -and their blubber to fill our casks.</p> - -<p>The harp blows his nose up in a remarkable way, so hard -that it inflates the fore part of its head. Naturalists assure -us that, like the shark’s fin, this has an awe-inspiring effect -on their opponents. We accept this cum grano salis. This -is what I remember of the harp’s attitude and expression -(1) before he was actually fired at, (2) its attitude of astonishment, -and we may call the next his adieu. These designs -are executed, you observe, with a certain chaste economy of -lines. (<a href="#Page_274">See p. 274.</a>)</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing55.jpg" width="500" height="275" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">An Incident from “Bearing Straights.”</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Finding no whales and being unable to get on to -Greenland, for some twenty miles of ice now separate -us from its shore, we decide to turn back.</p> - -<p>Right about wheel then, for we are sick of eternal flat ice-floes. -If we had a new boiler, new coal supply, new food -supply and unlimited time, we would hang on. The ice may -open in ten or twelve days, but we arranged to finish our -hunting, if possible, at Trömso, Norway, about the middle of -August. So we have just time and no more to get there by -that time, granted there is fine weather and little fog.</p> - -<p>But as I write, seven <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, we are again into a fog bank -and have to tie up to a floe. It is thin fog, and sun shines -through it and we hope it will lift. So it is good-bye to our -chances of whales, musk oxen, or walrus, for walrus we can -only get along the coast in shallow soundings. One whale, -and that only a narwhal, is our poor basket. We must -console ourselves with having got a fair number of bears in -the time—seventeen in the month, one narwhal and a lot of -seals. It will not pay, but we may yet get bottle-nose down -about Jan Mayen Island, if the drift takes us southerly in -that direction before we get out of the ice easterly.</p> - -<p>Perhaps I may here be allowed to put down some notes on -the protective coloration of the Arctic fauna.</p> - -<p>Evening of the 2nd August. We thought we were in for -another bear this evening, because a young man on watch probably -mistook a piece of yellow ice for a bear, and we went back -on our tracks, but found no bear. We hunted round the floe -on which he vowed he had seen it, but did not find even spoor, -so I fear his cry of “Wolf” will not be listened to for many a -day. Naturalists tell us that the yellowish tint of the bear’s -skin is given to it by Nature to allow the bear to secure its -prey, the seal—that the seal is green enough to mistake the -bear’s skin for a piece of yellow ice, and thus the fittest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span> -survives. As these yellow pieces of ice are few and far -between, and as there are far more pieces of blue ice, and -as the predominating colour of the snow is white, I’d have -painted the bear blue and white if I had been Nature, -with only a touch perhaps of yellow here and there.</p> - -<p>Naturalists have also told me that whilst waiting for a -seal at its breathing-hole in the ice, the bear covers its nose -with its paws to prevent the seal seeing the conspicuous -black of its nostrils. I should think myself this is to keep -his hands warm. Five black claws on each foot must be as -conspicuous to the seal as the black nose. Again, sometimes -a bear covers itself completely with snow, all but its -nose! This allows man in his turn to have a chance of -proving himself to be the fittest. A case in point was when -two men I know up here encountered a bear. It took -careful stock of them and did not like their protective smell -or the checks of their tweeds, so it did not immediately -attempt to eat them (possibly it was not hungry), but it -retired, as it thought, out of sight, and with a few grand -sweeps of its great forearms and hands covered itself up with -snow, only leaving its black nose exposed. But for this -wonderful foresight on the part of Nature in making the -bear’s nose black, the order of evolution might have been -reversed. Man strolling along and seeing nothing but white -snow might have slipped out of existence in the warm embrace -of Ursus Maritimus. The protective coloration of the -black nose, from the man’s point of view, surely proved -that Nature originally intended the bear to be cooked with -onions for our dinner.</p> - -<p>When they spotted the black nose, the two men proceeded -to guess in which direction lay the neck and body. (I think -only an artist who has studied the drawing of a bear’s nose -and head could have told for certain.) So when they did -hit it in the neck, it must have been rather a fluke! It was -a fighting bear, and came out of the eruption of snow with -fearful roars, and in a great hurry, for a bear. But Nature -insisted on the evolution and survival of the higher species -and wiped out the bear with two 475 decimal bullets, nickel -covered, and added, very incidentally, vermilion to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span> -general colour scheme of the floe, tempting one to drag in -the trite quotation: “Nature red of tooth and claw.”</p> - -<p>We are inclined to dwell at some length on the theory of -the protective coloration of the fauna of the Arctic and the -Antarctic regions. For in these frost-bound portions of our -sphere there is frequently so much fog, or nebulous condition -of the atmosphere, of such density that the naturalist -observer is compelled either to evolve theories or play cards.</p> - -<p>Another of the carnivoræ of these high latitudes, <i>Vulpes -lagopus</i> or Arctic fox, has also by Nature been given a remarkable -skin as protective colouring of perfect whiteness -(value to-day about £12). Beyond doubt, as with the -bear, this resemblance of the colour of this skin to the surroundings -is in order to allow the fox to secure its prey—namely, -the <i>Lagopus hemilencurus</i> or Arctic grouse, of which -it is particularly fond, as also of the <i>Lagopus glacialis</i> or -white hare of the polar Arctic regions.</p> - -<p>Now, seeing that the fox is singularly gifted with cunning, -a fact which has been universally admitted by naturalists of -all times, Nature, to prevent the complete extinction of the -smaller fauna, such as the hare, which has neither wings to -fly with nor fins to swim with, has also gifted the hare with -a white coat, and so the balance of Nature is preserved. In -the case of this <i>Lagopus hemilencurus</i> or Arctic grouse, -which, unlike the fox or bear, is unprovided with teeth with -which to protect itself, Nature, with its unstinted bounty, has -provided it with lateral appendages, one on either side, with -which it is enabled to fly; thus it has, besides its protective -coloration, another means by which it can escape its natural -enemy, so the preservation of the less cunning but more -edible species is preserved. We might perhaps have thought -that, being provided with wings with which to take flight, the -protective coloration for this bird would have been unnecessary, -but we must remember that the fogs of these high -latitudes, which have already been alluded to as affecting the -actions of the higher animal <i>homo</i>, put this bird to a disadvantage. -For it has been stated (the writer need hardly -quote his authority here) the nebulous conditions referred to -in these high latitudes are sometimes of such density that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span> -they may actually prevent this bird from seeking safety in -flight. This being so, we can the more readily understand -the necessity of the protective coloration for this succulent -bird.</p> - -<p>As an example of how very thick such a fog can be up here, -it is related by an explorer (an American, I believe) that the -men on watch on a certain occasion on his vessel were sitting -on the bulwarks smoking their pipes and were leaning against -the mist, when suddenly it rose and they all fell backwards -into the sea.</p> - -<p>What may seem unaccountable when you consider the -bear’s protective coloration is that seals of various kinds in -the Arctic regions should have apparently no protective -colouring. Whilst lying on the ice beside their holes they -form quite conspicuous objects, even at a distance of a mile -on a clear day, and less if it is foggy or on a dark night. But -the reason for this apparent contradiction is not far to find; -for, as we have already explained, owing to the colour of -the bear’s coat being of a yellowish tint and occasional -pieces of ice being also of a yellowish tint, with a far-away -resemblance to the bear’s coat, the seal takes the bear for a -lump of ice walking, so Nature here has stepped in and said -to the seal: “If you are such a silly fool as to mistake a bear -for a piece of yellow ice, why, have a dark brown coat and be -blowed to you,” so everyone is pleased—and so on.</p> - -<p>The bear, or supposed bear, of last night, interrupted a -quiet, misty evening we were spending alongside a small floe -of a quarter of a mile in diameter of hard, smooth, frosted ice. -Our men were occupied drawing fresh water from the blue -pools. Eastward lay mist, north and west a pale orange -band just showed beyond the violet-coloured floes and soft -grey sky, just the quiet effect for decoration of a silk fan.</p> - -<p>On the smooth floe we held various sports, tossing the -caber, for example, the caber being the remains of the pine-tree -we found on a floe as we came north. Also we had -fencing. As there was rather a pretty small blue iceberg -alongside, C. A. H. got his camera and photographed -the two champions. The too-strong she-cook went a walk -with Chee Chee; a little trot, rather; she must weigh about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span> -two hundred pounds, but she rather trips than walks. I -wonder what a bear will think of her if he meets her. She is -broad and deep-chested, with round red cheeks, and has a -gentle voice and a gurgling laugh any time in the twenty-four -hours of daylight. There was also a little pipe-playing, so -the smooth floe with the blue pool was quite lively, till the -call came to bear arms! Then everyone but Chee Chee -came on board, and it stood alone, with all hands saying -endearing things to make it come on board. Whether it was -my seizing the lasso, the sight of which it hates, or one of the -men circumventing it, I would not like to say, but from one -reason or the other it came with a sudden bolt—I think the -lasso did it!</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing56.jpg" width="500" height="325" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I nearly forgot to put our Spanish friends into the picture; -here they are, there is just room, right-hand top corner, -hilariously shooting skuas, those robber birds. The señors -are jolly the clock round; what a fallacy that is, about -“solemn as a Spanish Don.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>There being still mist this morning our budget of -news can only be described as strictly Local, for we -can only see over a few yards of floe and rippling -sea. Three hooded-seals appeared astern just now, as I -went out for a breath after completing the aforesaid masterpiece -of the floe-edge scene. They went off with a splash, as -if alarmed at finding themselves near us, and then they came -up again and took stock of us at about two hundred yards. -We could not see them well, so we did not shoot. What we -may call Home news, is of our cubs forward. William the -(comparatively) Silent worked through his floor, and it had -to be renewed. We call his sister Christabel, for she bit her -brother’s face without any reason; but it is rather unfair -calling her so, for he certainly threatened her—thought she -caused all the troubles he had had in his short life. She -refuses to have water. Even when we pull out her water-trough -she violently draws it in again and upsets the water. -She has strength! I think she will be a great catch in a -zoo, where her pretty ways could be studied behind bars -with safety. The old Starboard bear is now mastering the -material iron; teeth, he has learned, are no use, so he is -applying brain. He eats sugar from our fingers, and would -eat hand and arm with half a chance. I begin to sympathise -with him in regard to confined quarters; even the wide space -we have of about three square yards of deck, in which to -have our exercise, feels confined after about five weeks’ time.</p> - -<p>I forget what we did or did not do in the morning of -Sunday, 3rd August. I expect, the same as usual. There is -thin mist, with sun shining through, an unhealthy mouldy -morning, and we have a feeling as if we had had bad champagne -the night before—a slight nasal catarrh, and a little -sneezing going on amongst your neighbours and several -complaints of rheumatism, cuts, and boils.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span></p> - -<p>I have always heard the Arctic likened to atmospheric -champagne, where men’s spirits are said to be high and colds -exist not. Well, all I can say is that in this particular vessel -in these latitudes (there again, there’s someone else sneezing) -there are many such complaints, and smells! Hamilton -says “The look of the sea suggests a smell.” It suggests to -me London on a November morning. Sea and air are so -stagnant and cold, you could lean against the icy smell of -our bears or kitchen, and a cigar whiff almost strikes you.</p> - -<p>When the sun got up we steered away east and south—a -hundred and forty miles we have yet to go, to get out of ice -into the open sea, “the rough highway to freedom and -to peace,” as Morris puts in his Jason, and all day we passed -down lanes and lakes and across belts of deadly still water -between floes of flat ice, with few and small hummocks. -And seals became plentiful. As far as the eye could reach, -occasional black marks could be seen on the floe and little -black bullet-heads appeared in calm water at the floe-edge, -and some of them came and examined us from thirty or -forty yards as we passed, for an instant, and dashed under -water again, leaving a swirl like the rise of a ten-pound trout.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing57.jpg" width="500" height="125" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Yes, I think that was the whole day’s programme, excepting -an alarm for bottle-nose whale. That came in the -middle of <i>aften-mad</i>, seven or eight <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, and we hastily -loaded our two bow harpoon-guns, and got all ready and waited -and watched, but the bottle-nose did not appear again. In -several books on whales I see very misleading drawings of the -bottle-nose whale, <i>Hyperoodon diodon</i>. This one is taken -from notes of these whales in various seas, alive and dead.</p> - -<p>We were about to lay ourselves down to rest when a shout -that a bear was in sight came from the mast-head, and all -of us became very much alive.</p> - -<p>It was on a floe a mile off, and the floe was peppered with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span> -seals, and it lay on its back and turned up the black soles -of its feet and rolled about, apparently quite pleased with its -own company, and indifferent to the seals.</p> - -<p>A remarkable thing happened when our little body of -hunters set out after it—the seals lay on the ice, without -popping into their holes, also other seals came alongside to -within ten yards or so of the Fonix. It looked as if they -knew that we were men bear-hunting. This struck me as -odd up here. Of course in the Antarctic there would have -been nothing remarkable; and Gisbert, who has been in -Arctic ice scores of times, also thought it unaccountable, -unless it was actually the case that the seals knew that we -were in pursuit of their enemy.</p> - -<p>Still another thing extraordinary happened—we were -watching the great old fellow stretching himself, and all -his movements through the glass, noting his colour, light -warm yellow, lighter than the violet of the floe in shadow! -when he raised his black nose and face and went off at a -walk to the left. I am sure he had not seen our guns or -smelt them, it must have been that extra sense which the -black bear also possesses—instinctive knowledge of a presence. -Soon he came to a place where two of our men were -visible to him and then, Hamilton tells me, he went off at a -gallop! A great big male bear! It is a rare thing to see a -bear gallop, I just missed doing so—took my glass off to -make a note in colour, and he had got to a walk again when -I put my glass on again. He made off fast to the left, where -the floe ended, and about half-a-mile of calm sea and small -bits of floe separated it from the next floe. This manœuvre -left the two guns and the men far behind, so, to prevent his -escape, we lifted our ice-anchor off the floe and steamed away -to cut him off, and we got between him and the next floe -when he was about a hundred yards from it, and so turned -him back—a great big fellow swimming strongly, making a -dark green wake behind him across the smooth bronze -colour of the water—his last swim up the golden track of the -midnight sun. Poor old man, the orange rays touched his -pale face, and he looked anxious. I think the seals knew he -was in difficulty, for several swam quite close to him, their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span> -natural foe. We dropped a boat for the guns on the floe and -they soon came up and opened fire at about twenty yards, -and by-and-by a well-aimed shot hit in the neck. It is -a male bear of great size—what an ignominious ending! -But if you only think of the killing part, what hunting could -be called sport? After all, it took Man much work to circumvent -this ice bear—a ship built for ice work, then the -engine, coaling and provisions for a year, and several weeks’ -navigation amongst the risks of sea and ice combined. He -weighed eight pounds short of a thousand, stood on his -heels from nose or eye nine feet two inches. He bore two -old wound marks on his body, possibly made by Eskimos; -we wonder if it was the memory of them made him go off -so quickly; possibly it was only hunger and thoughts of -dinner that at first disturbed him, for he had only a little -seal’s skin inside him.</p> - -<p>It was the first time I had seen a bear look lighter in tone -than the background; the sun being at a low angle, the -undulating surface of floe was all lilac and tints of pale -green, and yellow, and only the raised hummock and projections -and the bear itself caught the golden light. The -shadows on the bear’s body were comparatively dark green. -So many people paint bears, and so few people see them in -their natural surroundings that these colour notes may be -pardoned.</p> - -<p>From one <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> to five-thirty <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span> I heard at intervals in -my sleep my Spanish friends fighting the battle over again, -and occasional shots at seals. Their vitality is extraordinary -(the Spaniards); they can talk for hours and hours -without evincing the least sign of fatigue, whilst we poor -northerners are creatures of habit and feel ready for bed -after eighteen or twenty hours’ hunting; and we get tired of -talking in a fraction of the time they spend yarning.</p> - -<p>They are rather bull-ring enthusiasts and back their bulls -against any bear. Gisbert plans capturing one of these -full-grown wild bears that are never seen in captivity and -taking it to Madrid—more easily done than the reader would -at first think, but it would be real sailor’s work. First of -all you would find your big bear on a floe, which you could sail<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span> -round—easily enough done—and by one means or another -get him to take to the water, also easily done. Then follow -him in two boats, each would throw a lasso over his head, -when the interest would begin. Whilst number one boat -hauled taut he would probably roll over and thrash with -his paws, then number two boat, with loop still fast to his -neck, would throw a hitch over a foot, and so haul the foot -to his neck, and so on with the other fore foot and hind feet; -his head would then sink and hitches could be cast all over -him, till, like a fly in spider’s web, he would be helpless. Then -the big strop round him and a strong winch chain, a hold -lined with iron plates and you would have such a bear -as has never been seen in captivity, a floe-bred bear, say -twenty years old, of huge dimensions. Gisbert, who knows -all about bears as well as about bulls, backs the bear in the -ring; so do I. Its four enormous limbs, each with a hand -and claws on them, a neck and head and teeth of enormous -power, all told three times the weight of a bull, and combined -with cat-like activity and quickness of eye. Possibly -next year this may come off and Hamilton and I will go down -to Madrid and make a book, for all Spain would give any -odds on their bull. In Madrid an elephant was pitted -against a heroic bull; the bull at once charged and prodded -the elephant, which annoyed it so that it swung round and -broke the bull’s back with a swipe of its trunk. But a lion -or black bear and a tiger the bull has easily mastered. A -lion stood the charge and was lifted clean into the air and -came down and bolted inside out with its tail between its -legs. A tiger ignominiously fled, chivied by the bull all -round the ring. So Madrid people are prepared to lay their -shirts against any polar bears, or anything under the sun; -they are in honour bound to do so.</p> - -<p>The bears they have seen in European zoological gardens -have been brought as cubs, or at oldest were two years old, -when they left their native floes, and are narrow chested and -have narrow hips. Wait till they see the enormous proportions -of chest and hind-quarters of a full-grown fellow -that has lived, say, twenty to forty years, up north, with -boundless liberty, on full rations!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[286]</span></p> - -<p>Hamilton backs the bear to take a picador and horse under -each arm, and the bull in his teeth, and our young Spaniards -are a little offended at the picture, mais nous verrons, perhaps -as soon as next year, if De Gisbert comes north hunting -another season before the Spanish Government expedition -starts.</p> - -<p>We continue to make our way towards the edge of the ice -through the mist, till we come to quite an open space of several -miles in width, where the slight roll from south-west tells us of -the open sea to come, and we talk of our hopes of a smooth -crossing to the north of Norway. The Dons make preparation -for retirement, and divide their beer, apples and chocolate, -kindly offering us a share. With great forethought they have -preserved these provisions against the expected confinement. -But I trust it may be sunny and smooth, for their sake.</p> - -<p>This day, the 5th of August, it is really hot in the -sun, and there is a light air behind us, and there is only a -very long, almost imperceptible swell—the sea silky blue, -with delicate ripples, and the pans of floe ice are moving -visibly, slightly dipping and rising, and the blue sea swells -green over their white, as they rise, and hundreds of little -streams run off them like icicles. “This end of the garden” -is to-day very fresh and delicious, and after all these weeks -of fog and nasty weather we hang up our bodies, as it -were, to dry, and lay out our souls to the sun and thank -the Creator for life. Life in a fog in the Arctic in the part -where we have been is small beer, it is impossible to be truly -thankful for the permanent possibility of sensation.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[287]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV</h2> - -</div> - -<p>After several weeks’ trying to get through the ice -we failed to get ashore, owing to there being twenty -to sixty miles of fixed land ice, and now have worked -our way back eastward through three hundred miles of pack -and floe ice. By luck we might have found part of the coast -free of ice, or only a few miles of it, but apparently, instead -of this drifting south and giving some rain to the British -Isles, southerly and easterly winds have held back the South -Polar ice-drift. Eight to ten miles off the coast of Shannon -Island, on the north-east of Greenland, was as far west as we -could press; other navigators have taken almost the same -course and have found as little as only fifteen miles of ice -to shove through between Norway and Greenland.</p> - -<p>Yesterday we got the open sea and swell and now, as I -write, we have come in contact with ice from north of Spitzbergen, -and the ice from Siberia coming round north and -south of Spitzbergen, and it is so plentiful that we are -obliged to go north-east to find an opening easterly.</p> - -<p>All afternoon we have been trying to find an opening and -till six or seven could not see a way through, and ice coming -from north jammed us considerably, but it was light pack, -not more than four or five deep, so our ship, little as it is, -was able to hold her own. You could by its thin and flat -appearance at once distinguish the Spitzbergen ice from -older, heavier polar ice, which we just left to the west.</p> - -<p>Now, at seven in the evening, we have struggled through, -and are leaving all Arctic ice behind. The pieces get smaller -and smaller as we approach the open sea, till at the sea-edge -there is only a margin of, say, a mile or so, studded with small -pieces a few feet wide, and then again there is a further -margin still smaller, remnants that were once hummocks -or even parts of some iceberg. Then even these faint -sentinels of the Arctic fade away behind us in a pale line,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[288]</span> -and we are free and in a handsome, rolling, free-born, deep-sea -true-blue ocean swell. Everyone is pleased. One is bound -to admit that at any time in the ice there is, especially to one -who knows about it, an indefinable sense of strain. This -strain, slight as it is, expresses itself in our crowd. De Gisbert -is playing “The Cock o’ the North” on the mouth melodeon, -with great go; the writer has just adapted the old sea chantey -to the bagpipes, “What shall we do with a Drunken Sailor,” -and a violent desire to excel at lasso-throwing has seized -Archie, and so on.</p> - -<p>Even our home, lately so sedate and dignified and restrained -in its movements in amongst the ice, has taken a -jolly seaman-like lurch and roll. The crow’s nest and mast, -shining in the sun, go swinging to and fro across the sky—now -she puts her nose down into the blue, pleasantly, and -rises and our old level horizon of the ice days is away below -us as our bows point to the skies—right and left we roll and -we swing her south-east, for habitable land, for Trömso -and Trondhjem and green trees growing and new fresh food; -for even a few months in the ice with food getting rather stale -makes us hanker a little after a new kitchen. We are tired -of eating bear and of looking at their legs, which adorn our -shrouds, great red-black limbs that we see all day swinging -against the sky and eat slices of at every meal. Eating and -seeing dead bear and hearing and smelling the living captives -twenty-four hours of the day is too much of a good thing, -so this is why we hanker after a new kitchen.</p> - -<p>I dislike a storm at sea, but I do confess I love the sea -when it is smooth and blue, and it soothes you with a long -gentle roll such as we have to-day.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus37"> -<img src="images/illus37.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Our Last Glimpse of the Ice</span></p> -</div> - -<p>It looks as if we were to have a smooth crossing to Norway, -still the fiddles must come down from our cabin walls and -again grace our little table. For in a small boat such as -ours every yachtsman knows that they are inevitable whilst -deep-sea sailing. Gisbert cleans his rifle and the fiddles are -on the table! so we are really done with the Arctic in the -meantime. He and I each used our rifles an hour or two ago -in the ice. No one knew who was to shoot at a seal on a floe -that possessed a coat we all envied; we were rapidly passing,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[289]</span> -so someone had to shoot and that quickly, so Gisbert and I -dived for our respective rifles, and each loaded at the same -instant and each fired as we swung past at eighty yards, -and each within the hundredth part of a second, and each -hit the seal in the middle. Neither of us knows which was -the vital shot. We shoved the ship’s head against the floe -and a man clambered over the bow and made a lasso fast to -the seal. It seems a small matter to pot a seal on an ice-floe, -but I would give many pounds, shillings and pence to -be able to pass on the beauty of the colouring of that chunk -of ice and green and lilac reflections in the purple sea, the -silvery grey of the seal sparkling in the sunlight on the snow, -and the reflected white light on the pink face of the man who -jumped on to the ice to bring it aboard. The Prophet, we -call him, a typical Norseman, with blue eyes, bushy yellow -eyebrows, yellow hair and a kindly expression—he may be -thirty years old, he might be a thousand—he is a type. His -prophecies almost always come true. “It will be better -before it is worse.” “We will get another bear before -Gisbert cleans his rifle,” and so on. Remarks such as above -are more interesting in his broken English—our steward’s -broken English this morning almost rose to the level of -punning. Archie Hamilton asked him sympathetically how -he had slept—Archie, Gisbert and the steward all sleep in the -fore part of the deck-house, and the bears are just outside.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[290]</span> -Gisbert snores, and the steward coughs alarmingly, and -the bear shouts, so Archie says he has not slept a wink for -nights. “Nay, nay,” said Pedersen, “no mans can sleep, -der is Gisbare, he go snore, snore, und dem fordumna ice-bears -dey go roar, roar, all de nights—no man can sleep -noddings!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing58.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>At night we are in the open sea, rolling south-east, and try -to hit off the north of Norway somewhere. The sun almost -sets now, there is at any rate the warm glow of sunset, it -pours into our two cabin ports from the north, making two -golden discs wave up and down on the white walls that look -quite green in contrast.</p> - -<p>The guitar is mended, the glue gave way with the fog -in the ice and the heat of the stove combined. So again -we have music, Gisbert the principal performer, the writer -causing some surprise at his remembering part of a Spanish -love song picked up in Southern Spain. Gisbert sings a -number of these queer folk-songs, with their strange airs -and unexpected intervals and the beat of Africa in the -heart of them.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/music3.jpg" width="700" height="200" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I insert the scrap referred to above. It is not everyone -who cares for this minor music, but it draws tears to a -Spaniard’s eyes; and it appeals to the writer, inexplicably, -for we have no music like it in our country.</p> - -<p>The words amount to this: that in love, the eyes are as -eloquent as the lips.</p> - -<p>We have to play and hum tunes to keep our minds off -the deep sea roll, that after the stillness of the ice comes -as almost too much of a good thing.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[291]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> - -</div> - -<p>To-day it is almost rough, a fresh north-east breeze, -and as our little ship rolls far and often in a swell, -or anything like a sea, strong men turn pale and say -they feel a little tired and will go and lie down.</p> - -<p>Killers appeared at <i>middag-mad</i>, and but for the excusable -lassitude of our party we might have tried for one, even -though it is a little rough for accurate harpooning. Their -great black fins, “gaff-topsails,” sailor-men call them, cut -through the water with a spirt of foam like a destroyer’s bow. -Some say they use their dorsal fin as a weapon with which -to attack large whales from underneath (Balænoptera and -Mysticetus), but I do not believe this, for it is not sufficiently -firm to do harm.</p> - -<p>Some have higher fins than others. I feel afraid to -mention the length I have seen them myself, or to quote the -height another observer has given to me; but I think we -may say eight feet and be well on the safe side. Others -are only about two or three feet. In the Antarctic ice I -have often seen them going along the edge of a floe, and -our men stated that with this fin they pulled the seals off the -edge of the ice into the water, but verily I do not believe -them. The same men vowed that the Cape pigeon, which -they saw for the first time in their lives, a chequered black -and white petrel (<i>Daption capensis</i>), was a cuckoo. They -were quite sure of this, for one of these Dundonian whalers -had once spent a summer on shore and had seen a cuckoo! -That was in the memorable year when he saw ripe corn for -the first time.</p> - -<p>Another excuse we make to ourselves for not pursuing -these whales is that they do not have very much blubber; -still, if we fall in with them again in little quieter water when -we all feel fit, we may take some. When you get fast to one -of these killers the others hang round till their companion is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[292]</span> -quite dead, much as sperm whales do, and even try to help -their harpooned friend to freedom by giving him a shoulder -on either side. Bottle-nose whales do the same, so when you -get one on a line you run it till you secure some of the others. -Big finners generally bolt in a great hurry and leave their -harpooned relatives to look after themselves, excepting -young finners in apron-strings, which will also hang round -the parent.</p> - -<p>Dr W. S. Bruce told me that when he was on H.S.H. the -Prince of Monaco’s yacht with a boat’s crew they tackled -one of these killers, and the unwounded killers came so close -to the boat they could touch them with their hands. What -must have been most interesting and instructive was the -fact that the skipper who did the harpooning had been a -Peterhead whaler and he knew all the expressions appropriate -to the first rush of a whale in four languages—Scots, -English, French and Italian—and he used them all. These -killers run to twenty or thirty feet. With really big whales, -heavy harpoon, big gun and huge lines, the whole business is -so gigantic and awe-inspiring that men are silent, breathlessly -so! But with lighter tackle somehow or other there -is usually a good deal of small talk. This killer thrasher -grampus or Orca gladiator, Tyrannus balænarum, has great -teeth and eats whales piecemeal, porpoise, seals, and, some -say, his own kind.</p> - -<p>An accepted Danish authority, Eschricht, declared he -opened a killer, and it contained the remains of no less than -thirteen porpoises and fourteen seals. Personally, I do not -understand how, even with two stomachs, a thirty-foot -grampus could hold such a lot, unless they were very small -specimens. The reader may not be aware that many whales -have two or more stomachs, like ruminants, but whether they -rechew their food is doubtful. The immobility of the tongue, -and in some species the absence of teeth, is supposed to make -this improbable, but to the writer this immobility of the -tongue is not proved; it seems to be a great purple pillow -covered with innumerable nerve points which might readily -break up the small shrimps on the rough, mat-like surface of -the whalebone palate. If they ruminate, and that under<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[293]</span> -water for hours at a time, it would account for the way -they sometimes appear all at once in numbers and feed -voraciously, and then vanish for hours.</p> - -<p>I have made a picture of a pack of rather small killers -attacking a finner whale, an incident I observed in the -southern ice from the distance of two or three yards. They -pursued the large whale like a pack of black and white -hounds, but neither whale nor hounds made a sound that I -could hear.</p> - -<p>Dr Frangius, however, in his “Treatise of Animals,” says -that when an orca pursues “a whale” the latter makes a -terrible bellowing, like a bull when bitten by a dog. I -wonder what kind of whale he refers to, for I have seen a -number of finner whales being attacked by orcas and have -not heard any bellowing, except the narwhal, whose groan -is certainly like a subdued bellow of a cow.</p> - -<p>Yesterday we had wind, and the sky that portended wind -if any sky does. When you have this sky it is almost safe -to prophesy wind—say three days of it—this is our second -day.</p> - -<p>We make one mile an hour forward. We are a hundred -miles off Norway and hoped to be in soundings fishing cod -at two <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> to-morrow on the coast. But here we are -plugging almost at the same hole, our poor wee ship throbbing -with the strain. We carried away our mainsail yesterday—a -thing to make a yachtsman weep; still, after all, it was -a sail, and even one sail on a steamer gives dignity. Don -Luis Herrero in the lee alley-way just cleared the halyard -block. Had he not been very quick in his movements, as -many Spaniards are, he would have been a dead man. Starboard -bear broke half out; that is nothing new. William -has learned the mandolin, he has a piece of wood in his cage, -one side of which is crossed horizontally with stout wire, and -with the wood, holding it in his teeth, he scrapes the wires up -and down and plays three notes for ever and for ever. I -do hope that, in whatever zoo he may become a resident, -he may be provided with a similar instrument with which to -fill his life. He, as far as I can see, now makes no effort to -escape like his big relative the Starboard bear, who is more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[294]</span> -of a mechanical genius than an artist. William’s sister -Christabel behaves well on the whole, takes lots of tinned -milk and water. Poor old Starboard, he really looked pathetic -after his big effort this morning; he is black, or brown-black -now, as I have already mentioned, and his black eyes, -by contrast, look light brown, so does his nose. No one -would take him for an ice-bear. His voice changed after the -effort, and he made a sort of piteous sound instead of challenging -and held his mouth open, and I suggested water, and -Archie poured a pail of fresh water into his feeding drawer -from a chink in the roof of the cage, and he eagerly lapped it -up and went off to sleep. They have plenty of salt water—a -small sea came over the bows a little while ago, and swept -away every chip they had torn; incidentally it swept into -an open bunker and nearly drowned the Prophet, who was -acting as stoker in the engine-room. He came on deck looking -rather wet and depressed and fossicked round and got the -cover of the stokehold closed; it was under a bear’s cage, -so it was not so easy. In the ice the Prophet was a jolly -bear-hunter, with lasso round his shoulder (which he could -not throw), also he was clean and “the Prophet.” With -such yellow curly hair and eyebrows and blue eyes and pink, -clean face he seemed essentially an ice-man; it is rather a -come-down to be merely a black stoker homeward bound at -the end of a cruise, and with nothing to prophesy.</p> - -<p>My word, it is time to shut my cabin door on this early -morning. Starboard bear and a starboard cabin! and the -bear awake and growling hell and thunder, and a big sea -running too. Blow his money value we say!</p> - -<p>Everyone is rather tired of the violent ceaseless movement -and the drenching of spray, but our two youngest Spaniards, -in heavy coats, make merry over it, sitting up on the bridge -and chatting and singing continuously, pluckily keeping -their spirits up. I think they would do the same even if we -had a full-fledged gale.</p> - -<p>Our musical steward, sad to say, has felt the roughness of -the trip, fog and wind combined, and this afternoon we were -anxious about him, rolled him up very tight in blankets and -put a hot bottle at his feet, for he was throwing up blood and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[295]</span> -seemed about to die; in fact, he looks a dead man now. -Hamilton too is feeling tired and lies down. Altogether we -would be glad to be up some fiord fishing cod for the sake of -the rest and fresh food.</p> - -<p>We had a gleam of sun from the north to-night, golden -precious sunlight; it touched waves far away in front of us -till they were yellow as golden guineas, while the crests near -us were colder, more sickly white than silver or thawing -snow.</p> - -<p>Every cloud has its silver lining, but give me the touch of -gold on the crests of long waves at the end of a gale, half the -crest radiant, and the side in shadow cold, bluish white.</p> - -<p>But our short-lived sun-gleam fades and we are all in grey—the -timbers creak, creaking anxiously, sorely, and we plod -along, two miles to the hour at the best, our disreputable sail -set again,—a subdued crew longing for land.</p> - -<p>One comfort about this wooden craft is, that she was built -for bottle-nose whaling and has bulwarks. The modern -steam-whaler is somewhat smaller and has no bulwarks, only -a rail, because she must offer as little resistance as possible -to a rapid side rush of a big whale. So in such weather, -even in this half-gale, they would be under water all but the -bridge, whilst here we can go nearly dry-shod behind nearly -two and a half feet of bulwark, behind which our too-strong -she-cook in slippers can easily dodge the little water that -comes on board.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Seven-forty <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>—An interval here of twenty-four hours.</p> - -<p>It would take each of us books in black margins to describe -the melancholy of the gale; not a very severe gale, with -only low waves for the amount of wind, but they are hard, -and telling on our little home. It is remarkable what low, -hard waves we have here. South of Norway, with similar -strength of wind, I am sure the waves would be twice the -height, but here they seem very hard and give heavy hits for -their size. South in the sub-tropics, with half-an-hour’s -wind, I have seen waves get up twice as high as those we had -last night, which were not a bit dangerous—have had them -over the bridge, soft and warm, and no harm done; here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>[296]</span> -a wave that size would do a great deal of damage. In the -north I expect this is due to the greater density of the water -owing to its lower temperature.</p> - -<p>... Gale all night, falling in morning, leaving an -abominable swell.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing59.jpg" width="500" height="175" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Sight land through mist, rain, heavy swell, everyone very -tired of life. Trying to make out where we have got to. -Made this jotting in night. It is not elaborate, but I think it -expresses a certain amount of movement.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing60.jpg" width="400" height="175" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>And this is a single-line description of the appearance of -Norway as you approach it over the swell. A one-line -drawing of swell -and mountain-tops. -Why make two -lines when one is -enough?</p> - -<p>In Tuglosund, the -north entrance to -Trömso fiord, we find stillness and twilight.</p> - -<p>On this sad occasion, 9th of August, we have again to light -the midnight oil, or put it down “candle,” in my cabin—midnight -sun versus candle, and the candle wins. There is -absolute stillness, not a sound in the fiord but the gentle -throb of our engine.</p> - -<p>How sad it is to lose the light.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It is almost incredible, the tranquillity of the dead-still -water as we lie at anchor fishing cod—breathless stillness, -so quiet one does not know how to go to sleep, no more -bracing of limbs now against the side of the bunk to steady -one’s restless slumbers.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;" id="illus38"> -<img src="images/illus38.jpg" width="500" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Our Engineer’s Daughter at Trömso</span></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>[297]</span></p> - -<p>... Larsen has gone ashore for fresh milk and also fresh -eggs, rowing across the reflections of hill and rocks.</p> - -<p>The candle burns straight up without a flicker; last night -we could not have lit a pipe had we felt so inclined—what -are we to do about clothes? Suddenly we feel our double -winter clothing is far too thick; can it be possible that to-morrow -morning we will only need thin summer clothes?</p> - -<p>As we fished we talked more intimately than before. I -found my Spanish friends had been in our West Highlands; -they compared this fiord with Loch Etive, and Ben Nevis to -a snow-capped mountain we have reflected in the still mirror, -and they say the hills remind them of their own—Spain, -West Scotland, and West Norway do indeed have certain -similarity.</p> - -<p>But the quiet! and the candlelight and the soft northern -midnight twilight in the fiord, and the ripple of the boat -coming back with the milk are great things! to be remembered -by themselves for ever and aye.</p> - -<p>If our night at anchor at the entrance of the fiord was -quiet and peaceful, Trömso on a Sunday felt even more so. -We came in with a brisk breeze blowing sharp ripples on -the sheltered strait or loch, and were thankful to be under -shelter, for the same breeze off the hill-side, clothed with alder -and heather, would be a different thing a hundred miles -north by west.</p> - -<p>Even our bears seem to be at rest. By the afternoon we -have all got shaven and shorn, and into more townified -clothes, in some cases to advantage, in others not so. The -blue jacket with brass buttons of the styrmand gives him far -more of an air than he had with his old weather-worn pea -jacket. But De Gisbert is ruined. The old Gisbert, the -bear-killer, and the new F. J. de Gisbert would hardly recognise -each other. Polar Gisbert in a great thick, deep blue -Iceland jersey, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, with black -beard with a wave in it, and black hair unbrushed and curling, -a vermilion-and-white spotted handkerchief round his throat, -loose corduroy knickers and wooden clogs like a Dutchman, -was a picture of the jolly deep-sea piratical-looking Columbus -we know. But this Gisbert! of Hamburg and Madrid, in a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>[298]</span> -quiet blue serge suit, with trousers, and brown boots low at -the heel, and a white collar sticking into a closely cropped -black beard, and straight combed-out hair, and a straw hat! -might be anyone!</p> - -<p>C. A. H. does not change his get-up much, but when he -goes home to hang his bearskins in the ancestral hall, he -will have to do so. Sisters hate beards.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/drawing61.jpg" width="150" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/drawing62.jpg" width="150" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>They, the Dons and Gisbert and Hamilton, have all gone -up the hill to be entertained by a local magnate to-day. I -was asked, and was -there before, on our -first visit, and it was -quite charming—gramophone -music, -cigars with red and -gold bands, delightful -whiskies-and-sodas, -and nice cosy rooms, -with the windows all -shut. But the cut on -my left foot felt painful -on putting on -shore boots, and the house being uphill I felt obliged to deny -myself the pleasure, and passed a very quiet afternoon on -board. The engineer’s children came off to see me (and -incidentally their father). The eldest was about twelve, -I think, and they talked Norwegian to me, and opened their -blue eyes wide and puckered their fair faces with wonder, -when they found I could not understand their little words, -however distinctly and slowly they said them. They insisted -then on my playing the pipes to them again, and apparently -were hugely pleased.</p> - -<p>I was sometimes sorry for the engineer’s lot when we were -at sea, in bad weather, for he is pale, rather like a gentle -Louis Stevenson, and seemed to have little to interest him at -sea beyond the engine, but now I do not pity him for his -welcome home from such a beauty of a daughter, with such -jolly blue eyes, so full of wonder and fun. The whole family -looked over my pictures and were interested in ice-bears<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>[299]</span> -(Is bjorn) and ice-floes, but I think they were more fetched -by a picture of the Fonix, done this morning, of the effect -yesterday morning at three o’clock in the gale. I daresay -they realised from it what sort of a life their poor dad leads -sometimes—at sea.</p> - -<p>By the way, it was not a dangerous gale, though tiresome -and uncomfortable. But to show how differently things -strike people, I heard that our two youngest Spaniards, who -spent all night on the bridge, apparently as jolly as could be, -chatting and laughing, believed all the time the ship would -very likely go down—plucky of them, I think. And yet -again, when we were in danger of being pinched between -two ice-floes a few days previously, they were joyously -potting skuas and gulls on the floe, without an idea -of the danger, whilst the writer was hopping about like a hen -on a hot girdle, with apprehension.</p> - -<p>Hamilton will not look at this picture, it makes him simply -squirm, which is rather flattering to the artist. Just now he -says: “It is too beastly like.” I must show him it again, -perhaps after many days—say in a London or Clydebank -fog in November. Perhaps pleasure will then be what past -pain was.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>[300]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> - -</div> - -<p>We find little difference here in Trömso since we -left for the cold North. Then it was sunny -but very cold, now all the snow has melted away -from the hills and they are green with belts of dark alders -that run up the corries from their reflections in the calm -fiord. The rough main street of wooden houses presents -the same series of little wooden doll houses, some made of -upright planks, some of horizontal, in subdued harmonies -of weathered pale green, blue, and worn slate, which would -be a little sad but for the summer dresses of women and -children, bright splashes of colour—scarlets and pale blues, -vivid but harmonious, only a little noticeable on account -of the uniformity of the black and dark blue clothes of -all the men.</p> - -<p>Is it coming back from the Arctic, where there are no -people, or is it the atmosphere of Trömso that makes the -character of each individual seem so distinct? You could -sketch any of the figures, men or women, in the brightly -painted street of doll houses, and the drawing would be -recognised by anyone in Trömso.</p> - -<p>Everyone seems to be at least on a bowing acquaintance -with every second person he meets. Opposite this Grand -(wooden) Hotel I see two of our men in dark suits and bowlers, -each has a little tobacco in his cheek. I know this because -I saw them put it in almost on the sly; each doffs his bowler -as some acquaintance comes up. Larsen has barely time for -one whiff of his cigarette between the sedate bows which -they make to passers-by. Who could believe that a few -days ago he was in old blue dungarees and sea-boots, hauling -with us hand over hand on a narwhal line—and Larsen—it -is difficult to realise that a week or two ago we saw him -skeltering over a floe, a long, dark figure against the ice,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>[301]</span> -blazing black powder cartridges and splashing bullets at -three yards’ range into the ice in front of a three-year-old -polar bear’s nose, to turn it. It strikes me that the way -these fair-haired men stand, and move their heads, and -their type of face, is rather like the men of Berwickshire -or Selkirkshire. You could hardly tell a Selkirk man here -from a native, but the average man of Trömso is perhaps -smaller and thinner.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> -<img src="images/drawing63.jpg" width="150" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>The women here are not so well grown and good-looking -as those in Trondhjem. Half the men are teetotallers, at -least in public. I saw rather a remarkable sight here at -the table d’hôte, six men at table in a row, “travellers,” -I think, each with a large burgundy or claret glass full of -new milk beside his plate—very different -in habits and the appearance -we associate with their deep-drinking -Viking forefathers. It really does look -as if with milk drinking we may yet -have peace to be amongst all men.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We go down the coast between the -islands in sunshine—little cloudlets -round the greystone peaks in the -blue sky. This day is the Glorious -12th, and we are far from home—and -we are more than content, to be -comfortably on shipboard, glad to -leave the northern ice regions, and -yet we know that in six months’ time -we will long to return. We watch -the hills go past in luxurious repose from the luggage-covered -decks—lovely hill-faces, wooded elk ground below, -and higher up, slopes, with scrub and heather, just the place -for dal ryper, the counterpart of our grouse, bar the white -flight feathers, and above, the heather-grey rocks and stones, -where you find the Norwegian ptarmigan; a glorious country, -and so like our own.</p> - -<p>No wonder in the ancient days our forefathers exchanged -visits from these fiords to our Highland lochs and islands,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>[302]</span> -and from old Alba to Lochlin, as described in the tales of the -Ossianic times—friendly visits for feastings and marriages, -and more often on bloody forays.</p> - -<p>I wonder if the gentle ancestors of this little <i>smuke pige</i> -that waits at our table formed one of the attractions of these -round tours by our fathers. How delighted she was to stand -for a few minutes and to have her portrait presented to her. -On the previous page there is a fountain-pen ink jotting -of what I remember of the original. Is she not a familiar -type? We might meet her in Kent or Caithness.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing64.jpg" width="500" height="300" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>I forgot to say we made arrangements, before we left -Trömso, about our Port and Starboard bears. The Port bear -goes to Spain, and Hamilton and I take Starboard to Edinburgh, -to present him, between us, to our new Scottish -Zoological Park, which promises to be the best in the world, -and of which this writer had the honour of being first -Honorary Treasurer! We will hand it over with the greatest -pleasure, and then modestly withdraw; for the more you -know of these two bears, the more you become of a retiring -nature. I think we must have our Lord Provost to grace -the ceremony of its presentation to the Park. The Right -Honourable the Lord Provost, in his scarlet and ermine, and -all the bailies, in reds and purples of various tints, what a -grand spectacular effect! (Our company, we hope, would be -excused.) And the Lord Lyon King-at-Arms we would have -to come too, for colour effect, vermilion and gold, in his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>[303]</span> -English tabard.—Ghost of Sir David Lindsay! with only one -wee lion; and in the second quartering!</p> - -<p>Fancy the bear’s contemplative pause after the address -of welcome and before it has decided what part it will -take in the ceremony. I must make a picture of this in -oils.</p> - -<p>Our Spanish comarados intended to take their bear to -Madrid, but they hear the temperature there has lately been -one hundred and twenty degrees in the shade, so they fear -it would melt, consequently they decide to build a large -iron enclosure across a small river which runs through their -estancia and the cork woods of their northern hills. There -was such a den or prison already in Spain, where I am told -the bear, also a polar bear, worked out an honourable old -age, fishing salmon and trout for the family of its owner. -It must be a pretty sight to see a white bear beside the -foam of a fall, waiting its time to clip out a silvery grilse -or salmon.</p> - -<p>The process of discharging a cargo of live polar bears is -fraught with considerable interest. If they escape their -captors’ ropes and chains they go overboard, and as happened -here, two got loose and landed at the fish-market steps. -Trömso natives are accustomed to visits from all sorts and -kinds of people and beasts. Grand Dukes and Laps, walrus, -whales, and bears, but not bears at large. They fled, and the -bears tucked into the fish stalls, and the bill for their lunch -amounted to one hundred kroner (£5, 10s.)—probably any -other visitors might have bought all the fish in the market -that day for ten kroner. They fortunately took to the -water again after their meal, and were recaptured. Once -a walrus escaped at Trömso from board-ship, and it also -took to the water, and it was also recaptured! It loved -the captain’s wife and she whistled to it and it came -back.</p> - -<p>Our bears’ cages, all tattered wood and iron bars, were -lifted, bears and all, by the winch over the side, and of -course sank almost to water-level. One of the iron bars -was levered up a little with a crowbar, which gave, in -Starboard’s case, an opening for his delicate paw, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>[304]</span> -instantly came out and tore the cage to smithereens, and -out he came, and, evidently to his great content, wallowed -about in the sea and washed his face, and took a dive or two -and rubbed his paws, saying “Bé-waugh” and “B-e-a-r” -frequently, and looked perfectly happy and amiable. Just -to prevent him swimming ashore and going into the fish-market, -we put a stout little rope round his neck, and he -continued to enjoy his bath, whilst we made ready a new -cage, each batten of which is covered with sheet iron on the -inside and has the appearance of strength which I should desire -for such an opening ceremony as I have above suggested, -if I have to be present. When this cage was in order, our -duty was to get the big strop or ring of heavy rope round his -waist, so as to haul him out of his bath with our sixty-horse-power -winch, and this was done with some escape of steam -and some splashing and profuse remarks from the bear. -Now he is in his new quarters, into which he cannot get his -teeth, and he ruminates peacefully and eats and drinks what -is given him. I wonder what his teeth will go into when he -first comes out.</p> - -<p>Christabel and William we are selling for much moneys -by telegraph to a certain millionaire. They will make -charming pets and William, as already mentioned, promises to -be a musician as well, but they will never attain, in captivity, -to the size that Port and Starboard may be expected to -attain, for the latter have already spent several years on the -floes eating seal galore.</p> - -<p>Bears have gone up in price; very few have lately been -landed, as far as we can hear, in Northern Europe. Recent -years have been rather bad for expeditions. We know of -several which have been wrecked; some of the crews are -dead.<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> Gisbert is going to hang on with the Fonix at -Trömso and may go North again in search of survivors.</p> - -<p>Slipping down the Norwegian coast amongst the islands -in a passenger steamer feels very luxurious after being in -such a small vessel with always a certain amount of risk;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>[305]</span> -and after views of ice and sea, bears and seals day after day, -rocks and trees and little farms or fishermen’s houses nestling -in the greenery, with mountains and snow-fjeld far behind -them are very welcome. There is the “human interest,” -which I have previously said has been remarked for its -absence in the polar regions by careful observers.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;" id="illus39"> -<img src="images/illus39.jpg" width="700" height="460" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">“Starboard”</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">Photographed by Mr. C. T. McKechnie soon after its arrival in the -Edinburgh Zoological Park.</p> -</div> - -<p>... What a country this is to breed real men. Every boy -in every one of these isolated farms must of necessity learn -to row, to ride, to sail, to hunt, ski, handle an axe, do iron -and wood work, besides his farming; and for one pound -sterling a year he can be in touch with the centres of European -news and civilisation. On the telephone—eighteen kroner -a year they pay to send messages under the sea and over -forests and fjelds to their township, say forty or fifty miles -distant, whilst we belated people in these backwoods of -Berwickshire have to pay nine pounds a year for the same -convenience.</p> - -<p>As I write we see two such natives enviably employed—two -small boys—the day’s work done on the farm, they don’t -go to school in summer—they are now managing a boat and -fishing. With the glass I can see the bow is almost full of -cod, haddock, and some codling. The elder boy looks about -twelve years old. He pulls up two at a time, shimmering, -iridescent, pink-tinted haddock. Who could believe the -rather plain grey fish we see in the fishmonger’s could ever -look like a chunk of mother-of-pearl?</p> - -<p>Woods and islands, rugged mountains, grey fjelds, with -snow in patches, pass hour after hour, till we come to the fiord -of the old capital—Trondhjem Fiord. It reminds us of our -Firth of Forth, on a larger scale, with more woods. For me -Norway begins at Trondhjem going north, and ends there -coming south. Southern Norway seems to have no tradition, -no direct appeal to me. In the soft distance I can see -height after height fading into the distance; to the north -and east with the glass I can see the woods of Sundal in -Stordal, where we have hunted elk, and seen the golden -birch leaves falling, and the snowflakes drifting down into -the green depths of the swaying fir woods. The water of -the fiord is tinted with Stordal River. I recall its salmon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>[306]</span> -and hear again its solemn roar when the mist hung low in -the glen. What days of exertion these were, climbing and -descending under the dripping pines, two men and a hound, -stealthily, silently, with hardly a word for hours, watching -through the woods for the gaunt form of a bull elk, days of -such fatigue and nights of profound repose, alike haunted -with the sweet melancholy of the saetar songs.</p> - -<p>Why do such merry, cheerful people as bonders’ daughters -sing such sad songs? Here is what I remember of one that -haunts me now.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> -<img src="images/music4.jpg" width="700" height="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Its rhythm just suits your steps if you hum it, not loud -enough to disturb an elk as you slowly ascend, step by -step, through the wet pines in the morning to the high -grounds, and the quick part helps you returning as you -swing down the last of the hill-side from one red-leafed rowan -to the next, down to the level; and months after, it comes -to you when you are in a street and you see the woods and -the river winding a silver thread at the foot of the glen and -the welcome smoke of the log-built farm. Once I hummed -it unconsciously on a dull, wet day at the quayside in Hull, -standing amongst emigrants looking at the swirling and -muddy river, and a Norse woman standing near with a white -handkerchief for headdress began to hum it too—we could -not speak to each other, but our thoughts were harking back -to saetar and glen and hill—the charm of Norway.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>[307]</span></p> - -<p>Another haunting folk-song I heard here years ago—I must -put it down to preserve it—at Vibstadt, Namsen Valley, on -a hot midday I heard the bonders’ daughters sing it -as they weeded lettuce in the blaze of light. They called it -<i>Barden’s Dod</i> (The Death of the Bard), and we have the same -air in our Highlands; it dates back to prehistoric times; and -we call it “The Minstrel of the MacDonalds.” No one that -I know sings or plays it now at home. But a year or two -ago, on the top of a mountain in Southern Norway, as we -rested at lunch, a Norse hunting companion began singing it, -and I started, and he smiled and explained his wife was one -of the little girls who had given it to me in Northern Norway -twenty years before. The Norwegian words, I am told -by a Norwegian antiquarian, belong to the Viking -period.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>[308]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/drawing65.jpg" width="400" height="350" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>In the smoking-room on the way south on board we -naturally talk much about fishing, for half our fellow-passengers -have been salmon-fishing and there is much -comparison of Bags and Rivers. Some have done better than -they expected, others growl at their bags, and the season, -and at the agent, whoever it was, that put them on to such -a bad river. But all are charmed with Norse scenery, and -Norse people. We come in for some questioning about bears. -There is no invidious comparison between a bag of bears -and a creel of salmon; but we have to be careful about -whales, for it would be a little rough on the veteran salmon-fisher -to cap his best with a yarn on whales: after he has, -at length and with the utmost modesty, recounted the fight -his fifty-pounder put up, and the hundred yards it took out, -it would scarcely be considerate to refer to some fifty-ton or -one-hundred-ton whale, and the miles of cable it had reeled -off in a twinkling. Of course everyone knows a whale is -not a fish—still, the slight similarity is such that whaling -yarns are apt to be damping when fishing stories are going;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>[309]</span> -though the true Walton angler is happy catching any size -of fish; a six-ounce trout to me, in a Highland burn, is almost -as good as a whale. Notwithstanding this delicate tact -on our part, whaling was introduced one evening in the -smoking-room, and the writer was rather surprised to find -that several men had very little idea of the functions of whalebone -or its place in the whale’s anatomy, so we had to draw -diagrams, such as these here reproduced, to describe shortly -the way whalebone works. This is a side view of the head -of a finner whale; it shows the outer edges of the whalebone -plates that hang round the sides of the upper jaw. The -blades vary in thickness in different whales; in the common -Balænoptera Borealis, such as this, it measures about a -quarter of an inch thick and is about two feet at deepest. The -blade has hair on its inside edge. If the whale’s head were -cut across between the nose and eye, or corner of its mouth,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>[310]</span> -the section would be like this. These hairs intertwine -and form a surface to the palate like a well-worn cocoanut -mat. The whale opens its mouth and takes in possibly a -ton of water thick with small shrimps, partially closes its -jaws and expels the water through the fibrous surface and -out between the blades. I suppose by raising the enormous -soft plum-coloured tongue (D in section) towards the hairy -palate or mat of interwoven hairs at the edge of each plate -(CC in section) it prevents the shrimps going out with the -water, and the tongue works the shrimps down to its throat. -I have not calculated the food which I have seen come out -of a whale’s stomach when cut up, but I say, at a rough guess, -forty to sixty gallons—three or four barrels of very minute -shrimps. I have only seen the remains of one of the Right -whale, Mysticetus, and those of the smaller, somewhat -similar whale, Balæna Australis. The Right or Greenland -whale had very long bone, up to eleven feet. To cover the -whalebone, the lower lip is formed as in this jotting. -Scoresby maintains that when the Right whale’s mouth is -closed, the blades bend or fold back towards the throat. -This seems probable.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing66.jpg" width="500" height="225" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">A Finner’s Head</p> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing67.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing68.jpg" width="500" height="300" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">A Right Whale’s Head</p> -</div> - -<p>You see from the difference between these whales’ points -that the rorqual is a more athletic beast than the Right -whale.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;" id="illus40"> -<img src="images/illus40.jpg" width="500" height="700" alt="" /> -<p class="caption"><span class="smcap">Right Whales and Sperm up to 60 Feet, Finners up to 110 Feet</span></p> -<p class="caption-sub">1. Greenland Right whale, <i>Balæna Mysticetus</i>, up to 60 feet in -length, generally found near Arctic ice. The smaller whalebone whale of -the Atlantic and Southern oceans is somewhat similar in shape; it runs -to 50 feet; shows tail as it dives; has no fin on back. It is called the -Nordcapper or <i>Biscayensis</i> and <i>Australis</i>.</p> -<p class="caption-sub">2. The Sperm or Cachalot, <i>Physeter Macrocephalus</i>. A toothed whale -50 to 60 feet; shows tail when it dives; sometimes breaches, i.e. leaps -several times in succession as it travels; blast low and projected -forward.</p> -<p class="caption-sub">3. Seihvale, <i>Balænoptera Borealis</i>, 40 to 50 feet; blast about 10 -feet; does not usually lift tail out of water before final dive; has fin -on back, is therefore a “finner.”</p> -<p class="caption-sub">4. Fin whale, <i>Balænoptera Musculus</i>, up to 75 feet. The Blue whale, -<i>Balænoptera Sibbaldii</i>, is similar, with smaller fin on back; both -make blasts about 18 feet. The Blue whale in Southern seas has been -killed up to 110 feet.</p> -</div> - -<p>The sperm or cachalot whale’s head is very peculiar. -It has teeth in lower jaw and a small tongue. All the part -forward of the dotted line here, which represents the skull -of the head, is a mass of fibrous oil. When you cut through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>[311]</span> -the skin you can bail it out with pitchers or pump it out till -it gets too cold, after which you do not know whether to lift -it in your hands or in a bucket. It is beautifully clear, no one -knows why it has this extraordinary spongy forepart to its -head. This sperm oil is chemically different from the oil of -other whales; it is more of the nature of a wax: the other -whales are of a fatty nature. It makes the finest lubricant -for modern machinery.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/drawing69.jpg" width="500" height="250" alt="" /> -<p class="caption">Head of a Sperm, showing Skull</p> -</div> - -<p>The blow hole is on left side of this “case,” the blow pipe -from lungs going through it. And the jet of steam is thrown -up two or three feet and forward, so a sperm’s blast is easily -distinguished from that of the finner, which is bigger and -straight up, say to twenty or thirty feet, or possibly forty -feet, in the case of a large Blue whale.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>[312]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX">APPENDIX</h2> - -</div> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Old and New Whaling</span></h3> - -<p>The Greenland whaling was practically given up in 1912, -and the Southern whaling for sperm and cachalot and the -Southern Right whale, which in the first half of the nineteenth -century employed five hundred to six hundred -vessels, practically stopped forty years ago.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Why the Old Styles of Whaling stopped</span></h3> - -<p>The growing scarcity and wariness of the Greenland Right -whale and the fall in the price of oil and whalebone gave the -Balæna Mysticetus or Greenland Right whale an indefinitely -prolonged close season, and in the Southern Seas the sperm -and the Southern Right whale (Australis) fishing almost -entirely ceased, owing to increased working expenses, smaller -catches, and the fall in the price of oil.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">“Modern Whaling” in North Atlantic</span></h3> - -<p>In 1886 Captain Svend Foyn of Tonsberg, Norway, invented -the plan of capturing the powerful rorquals, commonly -called Finners, that are very numerous, but were too strong -and too heavy to be killed in the old style from row-boats, and -which till his time had not been hunted. By his process a -small cannon on the bow of a small steamer could fire a heavy -harpoon, one and a half to two hundredweights, attached to a -four-and-a-half hawser. This steamer and line were sufficiently -buoyant and strong to play the whale and to haul its -body up from the depths when it sank dead. The Greenland -whale and sperm both floated when they died. Fortunes were -made from the firmer whale hunting off the Norwegian coast.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Commercial Aspect and Method of Modern Whaling</span></h3> - -<p>Some of these companies work with shore factories, others -with both shore factories and large floating factories on board<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>[313]</span> -steamers of up to seven thousand tons burden, and each company -hunts the whales with, on an average, three to four small -steamers, which harpoon the whales within a radius of eighty -or ninety miles and tow them in to the shore factories, or -the floating factory which is at anchor in some sheltered -bay. The bodies are rapidly cut up at a fully equipped -land station, and both the blubber and carcass are entirely -utilised. At a floating station the bodies, as a rule, are cast -adrift.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Whale Meat Meal and Guano</span></h3> - -<p>Whale meat meal is made from fresh whale flesh; it is -used for feeding cattle. It contains 17½ per cent. proteid, -and guano is made from the remaining flesh and about -one-third bone. The analysis of this gives 8·50 per cent. -ammonia and 21 per cent. triboric phosphates. The whole -of the dried bones and meat may be made into one product—a -rich guano with 10 to 12 per cent. ammonia and -17 to 24 per cent. phosphates. The best whale meat is -better to eat and tastes better than the best beef; it is -“lighter” and more appetising. The writer proposed to -supply an immense quantity to our military authorities, -but the offer was not accepted.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Whalebone or Baleen</span></h3> - -<p>The baleen or whalebone of these finner whales is only -worth about £30 per ton. It hardly pays to cure it and -market it. The whalebone of the Australis or Southern -Right whale has fallen to £85 per ton; it is occasionally -caught. Its bones and that of the finner brought down the -price of the Greenland whalebone, which a few years ago -was sold at between £2000 and £3000 per ton, one good -whale having a ton in its mouth, which paid the expenses of -the trip.</p> - -<p>During the short season, 1st November till end of April, -in a recent year the catch in South Georgia by twenty-one -steamers amounted to five thousand whales, finner, hump-back -and blue whales, which gave two hundred thousand -barrels of whale oil and eight thousand tons guano.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>[314]</span></p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Returns from Whaling</span></h3> - -<p>Taking in the other islands of the Falkland Islands Dependencies -in the neighbourhood of Cape Horn, the catch in -a recent year amounted to four hundred and thirty thousand -barrels of oil—eight thousand three hundred and seventy-five -tons guano, the gross value of which may be reckoned at -£1,360,000. Practically the whole of this goes to Norway.</p> - -<p>For forty-eight years this Modern Whaling has been -carried on in the North Atlantic, and since 1904 the Modern -Whaling which we advocated in Edinburgh in 1895 has been -prosecuted by Norwegians in the South Atlantic from desolate -barren British possessions, with the great results mentioned -above. There are vast areas of ocean teeming with these -whales where, so far, they have not been hunted, and still the -general British public stands aloof and takes no share in it. -Whaling to-day, from the Norwegian point of view, is an -industry: three generations have been brought up on it; -but from the average British point of view it is still a -speculation.</p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Ambergris</span></h3> - -<p>Ambergris is a biliary concretion generally found in the -alimentary canal of a feeble or diseased sperm whale. -Sometimes it is found exteriorly near the vent. It is also -found floating or drifted ashore. It is of great value, -and is principally used as the basis or vehicle for -perfumes.</p> - -<p>Some years ago Norwegians found four hundred and twenty -kilos in a sperm on the Australian coast; this was valued -at £27,000. This is much the largest piece I have heard of.</p> - -<p>It is a solid, fatty substance of a marbled grey-and-black -appearance, and generally contains the beaks of cuttle-fish, -which form the principal food of the cachalot or sperm -whale. When fresh it has an intolerable smell, but after -exposure this goes, and leaves what some people call a -“peculiar sweet earthy odour.” It burns with a pale blue -flame and melts somewhat like sealing-wax.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>[315]</span></p> - -<h3><span class="smcap">The Whaling Industry</span></h3> - -<p>The St Abb’s Whaling Limited, of which the writer was -appointed chairman, found whales at the Seychelles in great -numbers in 1913, and we got permission from the Government -there to start an up-to-date whaling station with licences -for two whaling steamers, which we chartered and had sent -out to us from Norway.</p> - -<p>Our capital was about £20,000, and our station and factory -was nearly completed, and we were catching numbers of -sperm and some “finner” whales, when war broke out. -Our supply of coals was cut off; barrels could not be obtained -for oil; sacks could not be got for the whale guano (which is -made from bones and whale meat); and freight completely -failed us owing to the congestion caused by war material -on the various lines. We could neither get supplies nor send -away our products to Durban and other ports, except in some -small consignments on our Diesel motor tank whaler, the -St Ebba, which finally we were obliged to run on sperm oil -at about £28 per ton!</p> - -<p>We could not “stop down” owing to contracts; and the -difficulty of raising more capital under war conditions finally -forced us to voluntary liquidation.</p> - -<p>This promising industry, therefore, had to be stopped -in the meantime, and it occurs to us that as one of the -“Empire’s resources” the Government could very easily -put it into working order again, with great profit and for the -benefit of the Islands, Africa and the Old Country. For we -found immense numbers of sperm and finner whales round -the Seychelles, and even before getting into our stride we had -secured one hundred and forty whales and shipped home two -thousand three hundred barrels of oil, besides what was lost -before the station factory was completed and what we were -obliged to use locally for our Diesel motor in place of common -solar oil. Six barrels of whale oil go to the ton.</p> - -<p>With the experience before them of the vast revenues -from whaling at South Georgia and South Shetlands going -almost entirely to Norway, our Government has, we think, -wisely restricted the granting of whaling licences at the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>[316]</span> -Seychelles to British concerns. Our company rented land -for our station, built the factories and has some years’ lease to -run, and the best season for fishing begins about 1st of May.</p> - -<p>The vast whaling industry in the Falkland Island Dependencies—the -South Georgia and South Shetlands—was -started as a result of the information that Dr W. S. Bruce -and the writer brought back from there in regard to the -immense number of finner whales we had seen there in -our Antarctic voyage of 1892-1893 to the Antarctic and -Weddell Sea; and in one of the first of the Norwegian -companies, which is still successful to-day, the writer took a -considerable interest at its start. This company is to-day -paying a dividend of over 150 per cent. But for the war -I consider the Seychelles whaling should have paid handsomely -now.</p> - -<p>In regard to this great modern whaling industry in the -sub-Antarctic seas we may here say that, previously to -the Norwegians starting it, Dr Bruce and the writer held -meetings in Edinburgh and urged the leading business men, -merchants and shipping people to take it up. We foretold -the fortunes that were to be made, but they did not rise. A -little later the Norwegian who we hoped to have as manager -for the first whaling station in South Georgia, Captain -Larsen, succeeded in raising capital in Argentina, and I am -told began with a modest 70 per cent. profit in the first year. -Norwegian companies quickly followed his lead and utilised -our Empire’s resources for Norway!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">FOOTNOTES</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> Values of whales and their products constantly change. To-day finner -whales’ oil is becoming almost as valuable as sperm oil.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> A pram is a flat-bottomed boat, square stern and pointed saucer -bow.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> A. Balænoptera Musculus; B. Balænoptera Sibbaldii; C. Balænoptera -Borealis; D. Balæna Biscayensis; E. Physeter Macrocephalus.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> Far the best whale to eat is the Seihvale Balænoptera Borealis.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> We picked up a dead whale two days later and we hope it was the -whale we lost.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> In the South Shetlands Captain Sorrensen, referred to previously, -killed ten whales in one day, one was ninety feet in length, and probably -weighed ninety tons.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> This snatch block hangs on a wire rope that passes over a sheaf and -leads down to the hold, where it is attached to an enormously strong steel -spiral spring. This makes a give-and-take action when hauling up the dead -whale from the depths to counteract the jar on line and donkey-engine that -comes from the rise and fall of the steamer on the sea.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> In these waters a small shrimp called a “krill” colours the water a -rusty red for miles.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> Later we learned that three <span class="allsmcap">S.S.</span> of several thousand tons were hove to -during this hurricane. Bravo, St Ebba! sixty-nine tons, one hundred and -ten feet, and the safest boat in the world.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> Only a few of our men have done bottle-nose whaling, but that is the -same thing on a small scale.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> Ambergris. <a href="#APPENDIX">See Appendix.</a></p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> These carros are the cabs of Funchal, like four-poster beds, brilliantly -painted, with chintz hangings, and sledge runners instead of wheels. -Their progress is like that of a crab—neither fast nor certain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> Don José and Don Luis Gongolez Herrero.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> Don Luis Herrero Velasquez.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[15]</a> Seal oil is manufactured into olive oil in Paris and the patent leather is -made at Dundee.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[16]</a> Not proved. The smaller 250 bore and higher velocity seemed to us -all to be most effective and stopping.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[17]</a> I have learned since that five vessels came to grief in the year 1913. -Of one trip (Stefansen’s) only one man has survived.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>[317]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="INDEX">INDEX</h2> - -</div> - -<ul> - -<li class="ifrst">A</li> - -<li class="indx">Accounts, difficulties in the, <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Aften-mad, <a href="#Page_72">72</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Alexandra Whaling Station, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Allan, Miss Sheila, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ambergris, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ammunition, <a href="#Page_40">40</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Anatomy of a whale, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Anchor, accident to our, <a href="#Page_46">46</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Arctic and Antarctic compared, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Arctic Fox, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Arctic grouse, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ardnamurchan, <a href="#Page_107">107</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Azores, the, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">B</li> - -<li class="indx">Balæna, the, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balæna Mysticetus, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balænoptera Borealis, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balænoptera musculus, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balænoptera Sibbaldii, the, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Baleen or whalebone, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balkan, Mrs, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Balta Sound, <a href="#Page_14">14</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bear and cubs, <a href="#Page_258">258</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bear-hunting, accidents in, <a href="#Page_225">225</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bear yams, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bearded seal, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bears, stalking, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">dangers, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">size and weight, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">stalking, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">lassoing, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Belfast, <a href="#Page_116">116</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Birthday celebration, a, <a href="#Page_105">105</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blowing up, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blue seal, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Blue sharks, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bottle-nose whale, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bowhead or Right whale, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bressay Light, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Britannia Club, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bruce, Dr W. S., <a href="#Page_179">179</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bull-fight on deck, <a href="#Page_262">262</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Bull versus bear, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">C</li> - -<li class="indx">Cabins, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cachalot, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cachés, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Calving bergs, <a href="#Page_271">271</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Caribou and whale, colours of the, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Carros, <a href="#Page_166">166</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Case or forehead, <a href="#Page_160">160</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Casperg, Captain, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Chanteys, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Christiania Fiord, <a href="#Page_27">27</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Clarence Island, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Clothes, darned and patched, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cod liver oil, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Colla Firth, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Colours in Arctic regions, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Colours of the sea, <a href="#Page_77">77</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Colours of the whale, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cormorants and gulls, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cormorants, on cooking, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Cruise of the Cachalot,” the, <a href="#Page_22">22</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cubs, lassoing, <a href="#Page_264">264</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Customs officers, <a href="#Page_58">58</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cutting up a whale, <a href="#Page_159">159</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Cuttlefish and whales, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">D</li> - -<li class="indx">Dangers of whaling, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> - -<li class="indx">De Gisbert, F. A., <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dolphins, <a href="#Page_127">127</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dreams, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Drimnin, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Dundee whalers, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">E</li> - -<li class="indx">Embryos of whale, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Engine troubles, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Explosive bombs, <a href="#Page_23">23</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">F</li> - -<li class="indx">Factories, shore and floating, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318"></a>[318]</span>Falkland Islands, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Finners, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Flippers of seal, <a href="#Page_240">240</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fogs, Arctic, <a href="#Page_279">279</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fonix, the, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Food of the whale, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Football, <a href="#Page_219">219</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Foyn, his wife and a whale, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">diplomatic steward, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fuel, oil, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Fulmar petrels, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Funchal, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">G</li> - -<li class="indx">Gear for raising dead whale, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Geraniums, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gisbert and the bear, <a href="#Page_216">216</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Graham’s Land, <a href="#Page_23">23</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Grampuses, <a href="#Page_148">148</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Greenland, <a href="#Page_267">267</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Greenland whales, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Greenland Right whale fishing, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guano, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gun, the harpoon, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gun and harpoon, old style, <a href="#Page_231">231</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Gun, loading the, <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Guns, light versus heavy, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">H</li> - -<li class="indx">Haldane family, stories of the, <a href="#Page_66">66</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Haldane, R. C., <a href="#Page_64">64</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Haldane, the, <a href="#Page_17">17</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hamilton, C. A., <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hansen and the bear, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harp seals, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Harpoons, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hawsers for big whales, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Head of whale, <a href="#Page_90">90</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Heavy seas, <a href="#Page_122">122</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henriksen, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Henriksen, Harold, <a href="#Page_29">29</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Herring-hog or springer, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hospitality, Norwegian, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Hydrangeas, <a href="#Page_139">139</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">I</li> - -<li class="indx">Ice colours, <a href="#Page_201">201</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ice floes, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Icebergs, <a href="#Page_187">187</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ivory gull, <a href="#Page_182">182-212</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">J</li> - -<li class="indx">Jackaranda, the, <a href="#Page_165">165</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Japanese whaling grounds, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Jensen’s store, <a href="#Page_33">33</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">K</li> - -<li class="indx">Killer, A, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Knarberg, <a href="#Page_39">39</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">L</li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Lagopus hemilencurus</i> or Arctic grouse, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lancing a whale, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Larsen, Captain, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_316">316</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lasso practice, <a href="#Page_250">250</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lassoing a bear, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, <a href="#Page_285">285</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Leigh Smith, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lerwick, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lifeboat, an extravagant, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lighthouses, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Lochend, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">M</li> - -<li class="indx">Mackerel, killing, <a href="#Page_72">72</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Madeira, flowers, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">tunny-fishing, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">sunrise, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">boats, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Magazine ship, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Magnus Andersen, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mainmast, our, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Meals on a whaler, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Measurement of bears, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Meat meal, whale, <a href="#Page_313">313</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mess-room and galley, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Middag-mad, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Mishnish Hotel, the, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Modern Whales,” <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Monaco, Prince of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Motor versus steam-engine, <a href="#Page_106">106</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Motor whaler, a, <a href="#Page_19">19</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">N</li> - -<li class="indx">Narwhal-fishing, dangers of, <a href="#Page_238">238</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Narwhals, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Natural colours and surroundings, <a href="#Page_200">200</a></li> - -<li class="indx">New Bedford sailing ships, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Nordcapper, the, <a href="#Page_26">26</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Norse sporting guns, <a href="#Page_121">121</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Norwegian ladies, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Norwegian pilot-boats, <a href="#Page_18">18</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">O</li> - -<li class="indx">Oban, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Oil and coal, <a href="#Page_117">117</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Oil, value of, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Oil, whale, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Old man Henriksen,” <a href="#Page_43">43</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319"></a>[319]</span>Orca gladiator, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">P</li> - -<li class="indx">Partings, <a href="#Page_45">45</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pet bear, a, <a href="#Page_257">257</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pilot-fish, <a href="#Page_162">162</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pine trunk, a drifting, <a href="#Page_220">220</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Phosphorescent sea, a, <a href="#Page_124">124</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Photography, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Physeter Macrocephalus, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Plankton, <a href="#Page_253">253</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pod or herd, <a href="#Page_92">92</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Polar Research,” Bruce’s, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ponta Delgada, arcade, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">boats, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">fish, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Robert’s café, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">a wreck, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">hydrangeas, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">shops, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the Atlantico, <a href="#Page_140">140</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">dress, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">whales, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the sea, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">the Seven Cities, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Port and starboard bears, our, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Protective colouring, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_276">276</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Pussy finger, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">R</li> - -<li class="indx">Ramna Stacks, the, <a href="#Page_100">100</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Red-tape entanglements, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Registration bothers, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Restrictions, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Richardson’s skua, <a href="#Page_212">212</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Right whale, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Robertson, Captain T., <a href="#Page_25">25</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Romance of the sea, <a href="#Page_129">129</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Rorquals, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Runners, <a href="#Page_119">119</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Ryvingen Light, the, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">S</li> - -<li class="indx">Saga, Jansen’s, <a href="#Page_34">34</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St Ebba, the, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a></li> - -<li class="indx">St Abb’s Whaling Limited, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li class="indx">San Miguel, <a href="#Page_130">130</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Scoresby, <a href="#Page_179">179</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sea legs, <a href="#Page_157">157</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sea-sick crew, a, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seal-hunting, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sealers, <a href="#Page_183">183</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seals, Arctic and Antarctic, <a href="#Page_188">188</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seals, Vitulina, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Phoca Barbata, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Cystophora Cristata, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">blue, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Barbata, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">harp, <a href="#Page_275">275</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seven Cities, the, <a href="#Page_151">151</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Seychelles, the, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></li> - -<li class="indx">She-cook, our, <a href="#Page_206">206</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sharks, <a href="#Page_159">159</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shetlands in pawn, the, <a href="#Page_60">60</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shoppie, a, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Shore stations, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sing-song, a, <a href="#Page_99">99</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sorrensen, the brothers, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">South Georgia, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">South Shetlands, the, <a href="#Page_31">31</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spanish National Polar Expedition, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sperm or Cachalot whale, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spitzbergen ice, <a href="#Page_287">287</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sports on the ice, <a href="#Page_279">279</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spotted mackerel, <a href="#Page_169">169</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Spy, a, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Squalus Borealis, <a href="#Page_207">207</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Stalking and being stalked, <a href="#Page_199">199</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Starboard bear, the, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Strength of the bear, <a href="#Page_245">245</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sumburgh Head, <a href="#Page_55">55</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sunday observance, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Sven Foyn’s harpoons, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Svendsen, <a href="#Page_180">180</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">T</li> - -<li class="indx">Tackle for whaling, <a href="#Page_232">232</a></li> - -<li class="indx">“Tail up,” <a href="#Page_88">88</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tail of a whale, the, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tanks, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Teeth of seals, <a href="#Page_269">269</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tobermory, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tongue of the whale, <a href="#Page_254">254</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tonsberg, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">whaling industry, <a href="#Page_233">233</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Torp, Captain, death of, <a href="#Page_89">89</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trammel net, a, <a href="#Page_134">134</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trolle, Captain, <a href="#Page_179">179</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Trouble with captive bears, <a href="#Page_248">248</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Tunny, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">U</li> - -<li class="indx">Ulstermen and Scots, <a href="#Page_118">118</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Union Jack, our, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Urmston, <a href="#Page_110">110</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">V</li> - -<li class="indx">Viking ship, <a href="#Page_21">21</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><i>Vulpes lagopus</i>, or Arctic fox, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">W</li> - -<li class="indx">Wading stockings, advantages of, <a href="#Page_209">209</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Weddel Sea, the, <a href="#Page_23">23</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale cooker, our, <a href="#Page_161">161</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale flesh, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a></li> - -<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320"></a>[320]</span>Whale’s food, <a href="#Page_101">101</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale gun, the, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale lines, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale products and their prices, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whale steak, <a href="#Page_72">72</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whalebone, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales, Balænoptera Sibbaldii, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Balænoptera musculus, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Balænoptera Vaga, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Right whale, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Cachalot, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Sperm, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Finners, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Balæna mysticetus, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Biscayensis, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Orca gladiator, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">blue, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">Seihvale, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><i>Ziphius novæ Zealandicæ</i>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1">narwhals, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>;</li> -<li class="isub1"><i>Hyperoodon diodon</i>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales and cuttle-fish, <a href="#Page_158">158</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales, habits of, <a href="#Page_156">156</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales, harpooning, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales, size of, <a href="#Page_84">84</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whales and trout, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Whaling, old and modern, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Winch, the, <a href="#Page_28">28</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wives at sea, <a href="#Page_111">111</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wounded seals, <a href="#Page_260">260</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Wreck, a, <a href="#Page_136">136</a></li> - -<li class="ifrst">Y</li> - -<li class="indx">Yacht club, Tonsberg, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Yell Sound, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Yule, <a href="#Page_108">108</a></li> - -<li class="indx">Yusako, <a href="#Page_32">32</a></li> - -</ul> - -<p class="titlepage">THE RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN WHALING & BEAR-HUNTING ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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