SECOND PART
CHAPTER 12: Sperm Whales and Baleen Whales
(continued)
We were seated on the platform next to a tranquil sea. The month
of March, since it's the equivalent of October in these latitudes,
was giving us some fine autumn days. It was the Canadian--
on this topic he was never mistaken--who sighted a baleen whale
on the eastern horizon. If you looked carefully, you could see
its blackish back alternately rise and fall above the waves,
five miles from the Nautilus.
"Wow!" Ned Land exclaimed. "If I were on board a whaler,
there's an encounter that would be great fun! That's one big animal!
Look how high its blowholes are spouting all that air and steam!
Damnation! Why am I chained to this hunk of sheet iron!"
"Why, Ned!" I replied. "You still aren't over your old fishing urges?"
"How could a whale fisherman forget his old trade, sir? Who could
ever get tired of such exciting hunting?"
"You've never fished these seas, Ned?"
"Never, sir. Just the northernmost seas, equally in the Bering Strait
and the Davis Strait."
"So the southern right whale is still unknown to you.
Until now it's the bowhead whale you've hunted, and it won't risk
going past the warm waters of the equator."
"Oh, professor, what are you feeding me?" the Canadian answered
in a tolerably skeptical tone.
"I'm feeding you the facts."
"By thunder! In '65, just two and a half years ago, I to whom you speak,
I myself stepped onto the carcass of a whale near Greenland,
and its flank still carried the marked harpoon of a whaling ship
from the Bering Sea. Now I ask you, after it had been wounded
west of America, how could this animal be killed in the east,
unless it had cleared the equator and doubled Cape Horn or the Cape
of Good Hope?"
"I agree with our friend Ned," Conseil said, "and I'm waiting
to hear how master will reply to him."
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