[Illustration: THE CACHALOT]

In this way it spouts the water in beautiful jets from twenty to thirty
feet in height. The voice of the whale is like a low murmuring: it has a
smooth skin all over its body, under which lies that thick lard which
yields the oil for which they are so much sought. The Greenland whale
has but two side-fins; its tail is in the shape of a crescent; it is an
instrument of immense power; it has been sometimes known with one stroke
to hurl large boats high into the air, breaking them into a thousand
fragments. The whale shows great affection for her young, which is
called the calf; the fishermen well know this, and turn it to their own
account; they try to strike the young with the harpoon, which is a
strong, barbed instrument, and if they do this they are almost sure of
securing the mother also, as nothing will induce her to leave it.

Mr. Scorseby, who was for a long time engaged in the whale fishery, has
written a book containing a very interesting account of them. He
mentions a case in which a young whale was struck beside its dam. She
instantly seized and darted off with it, but not until the line had been
fixed to its body. In spite of all that could be done to her, she
remained near her dying little one, till she was struck again and again,
and thus both perished. Sometimes, however, on an occasion like this,
the old whale becomes furious, and then the danger to the men is very
great, as they attack the whale in boats, several of which belong to
each ship.

A number of these boats once made towards a whale, which, with her calf
was playing round a group of rocks. The old whale perceiving the
approaching danger, did all she could to warn her little one of it, till
the sight became quite affecting. She led it away from the boats, swam