It was very comfortable, cutting-in a sperm whale in harbour, after the dire difficulty of performing the same operation in a seaway.  And, although it may seem strange, this was the first occasion that voyage that I had had a really good opportunity of closely studying the whale’s anatomy.  Consequently the work was exceedingly interesting, and, in spite of the labour involved, I was almost sorry when the job was done.  Under the present favourable circumstances we were ready to cut the carcass adrift shortly after midday, the head, of course, having been taken off first.  Just after we started to cut-in a boat appeared alongside with six Maories and half-breeds on board.  Their leader came up and civilly asked the skipper whether he intended doing anything with the carcass.  Upon being promptly answered in the negative, he said that he and his companions proposed hooking on to the great mass when we cut it adrift, towing it ashore, and getting out of it what oil we had been unable to extract, which at sea is always lost to the ship.  He also suggested that he would be prepared to take reasonable terms for such oil, which we should be able to mingle with ours to our advantage.  An arrangement was speedily arrived at to give him L20 per tun for whatever oil he made.  They parted on the best of terms with each other, and as soon as we cut the carcass loose the Maories made fast, to it, speedily beaching it in a convenient spot near where they had previously erected a most primitive try-works.

That afternoon, after the head was inboard, the skipper thought he would go ashore and see how they were getting on.  I was so fortunate as to be able to accompany him.  When we arrived at the spot, we found them working as I have never seen men work, except perhaps the small riggers that at home take a job—­three or four of them—­to bend or unbend a big ship’s sails for a lump sum to be paid when the work is done.  They attacked the carcass furiously, as if they had a personal enmity against it, chopping through the massive bones and rending off huge lumps of the flesh with marvellous speed.  They had already laid open the enormous cavity of the abdomen, and were stripping the interminable intestines of their rich coating of fat.  In the maw there were, besides a large quantity of dismembered squid of great size, a number of fish, such as rock-cod, barracouta, schnapper, and the like, whose presence there was a revelation to me.  How in the name of wonder so huge and unwieldy a creature as the cachalot could manage to catch those nimble members of the finny tribe, I could not for the life of me divine!  Unless—­and after much cogitation it was the only feasible explanation that I could see —­as the cachalot swims about with his lower jaw hanging down in its normal position, and his huge gullet gaping like some submarine cavern, the fish unwittingly glide down it, to find egress impossible.  This may or may not be the case; but I, at any rate, can find no more reasonable theory, for it is manifestly absurd to suppose the whale capable of catching fish in the ordinary sense, indicating pursuit.