GEORGE.  “Is it not near Greenland the ships go to catch whales?”

MR. BARRAUD.  “Yes; and, as you have mentioned the subject, we may as well stop and inquire into the particulars of this fishing.”

GEORGE.  “I remember reading that there are three sorts of whales—­the finback, the right whale, and the sperm whale; but I should like to hear how they are caught.”

MR. BARRAUD.  “A man is stationed at the mast-head to look out, and as soon as he perceives a whale, he shouts, ‘There she blows!’ Immediately all hands are on the move to prepare the boats:  this takes but a short time, and the chase commences.  I will now give you an American account of such a chase.

“’The moment of intense excitement now arrived.  We pulled as if for life or death.  Not a word was spoken, and scarcely a sound was heard from our oars.  One of the men sprang to his feet, and grasped a harpoon.  A few more strokes of the oar, and we were hard upon the whale.  The harpooner, with unerring aim, let fly his irons, and buried them to the sockets in his huge carcass.  “Stern all!” thundered the mate.  “Stern all!” echoed the crew, but it was too late.  Our bows were high and dry on the whale’s head!  Infuriated with the pain produced by the harpoons, and, doubtless, much astonished to find his head so roughly used, he rolled half over, lashing the sea with his flukes (tail), and in his struggles dashing in two of the upper planks.  “Boat stove! boat stove!” was the general cry.  “Silence,” thundered the mate as he sprang to the bow, and exchanged places with the harpooner; “all safe, my hearties! stern hard! stern! stern! before he gets his flukes to bear upon us.”  “Stern all!” shouted we, and in a moment more we were out of danger.  The whale now “turned flukes,” and dashed off to windward with the speed of a locomotive, towing us after him at a tremendous rate.  We occasionally slacked line in order to give him plenty of play.  A stiff breeze had sprung up, causing a rough, chopping sea; and we leaked badly in the bow-planks; but, notwithstanding the roughness of the sea, we went with incredible swiftness.  “Hoorah!” burst from every lip.  We exultingly took off our hats, and gave three hearty cheers; but while we were skimming along so gallantly, the whale suddenly turned, and pitched the boat on her beam-ends.  Every one who could grasp a thwart hung on to it, and we were all fortunate enough to keep our seats.  For as much as a ship’s length the boat flew through the water on her gunwale, foaming and whizzing as she dashed onward.  It was a matter of doubt as to which side would turn uppermost, until we slacked out the line, when she righted.  To have a boat, with all her iron, lances, gear, and oars, piled on one’s head in such a sea, was rather a startling prospect to the best swimmer.  Meantime, the whale rose to the surface to spout.  The change in his course enabled another boat to come up, and we lay on our oars, in order