The only other sight worth recording was the occasional blowing of a whale, that curious marine mammal, whose incongruities have puzzled even eminent biologists. There are many interesting questions in the life-history of the whale of which we are in almost total ignorance; such are, for example, its average age, which conjecture has extended to centuries, and the period of gestation before it launches its baby on the troubled waters—think of it, a “baby” whale of some ten or twelve feet in length! But what has always appeared to me the most interesting point in the whale is the extraordinary disproportion of its tiny throat—a throat not two inches in diameter, so that an ordinary herring would choke the largest whale. It behoves us, however, in all justice to the most remarkable book that has ever appeared as the universal delight of castle and cottage, to disregard the emphasis with which its scientific detractors are wont to decry some of its more remarkable assertions, and to exculpate it, at least in this case—I refer, of course, to the famous history of the rebellious prophet—where it makes no mention of the exact species to which the “great fish” belonged; the whale having been associated with the story in later days by romancers whose intellect is scarcely less remarkable than that of a somewhat puerile clergyman, whom I once heard endeavour to prove that the “great fish” was simply a common alligator, which is about as abundant in the Mediterranean as the whale itself! In excessively warm latitudes, where certain winds are contending for the mastery, waterspouts are not uncommon, and are, of course, dreaded in proportion to their proximity to the ship. They are analogous to the whirlwind on land, the ascending column in the latter being charged with particles of dust, instead of, as at sea, with condensing vapour. In either case, distance lends enchantment! * * * * * Such, then, were a few of the sights and speculations afforded, in the days when journeys were calculated by months, by the great world without, as a means of beguiling the time when wind and weather permitted one to stay on deck. Scarcely less remarkable were the diversions of the little world within; the shifts to which we were put in our unflagging endeavours to relieve the monotony of “life below stairs;” but I must leave these to another chapter, in which I hope to reach the end of my voyage. CHAPTER II. STILL UNDER CANVAS. “O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!” BYRON, _Corsair_. Some portion of the time, however, was necessarily spent below. Dancing was the favourite pursuit with the majority, but was only practicable when the wind was light and the sea calm.