One day, as I was walking on the deck and looking out for a sail, I was surprised to see a stream of water rise up out of the sea at some distance. I pointed it out to the man who was steering at the helm, and was told by him that it was a whale, spouting. I had never seen a whale before, and was anxious to get a nearer view of so wonderful a creature. My wish was soon gratified. Presently he directed his course towards our vessel, and passed by us, spouting up streams of water from his nose in a manner that excited my astonishment. When I contemplated the monstrous bulk of this creature, and the amazing swiftness with which he dashed through the water, I could not repress a feeling of terror. Yet it is well known that men are courageous enough to go out to sea in little boats for the purpose of catching such enormous monsters. The description of the whale fishery is one of the most interesting items in the history of human courage and skill, and shows how the ingenuity of man can triumph over the strength of the mightiest of all the brute creation. The whale is attacked, pursued for miles across his own element, and finally killed and taken by six or eight men in a boat, so small that, if he had but the sense to open his mouth, he might swallow the boat and its crew. I had another amusement at sea in witnessing the gambols of the shoals of porpoises which now and then came tumbling around us. These fish generally move in single file through the water, and when they meet a ship at sea, they shoot right before her bows, so as almost to strike the vessel; but as they dart with great velocity, they always manage to steer clear. At such times it is highly interesting to watch their movements, as they glance through the water just below the surface. When the sun shines, they glisten in the waves with all the hues of the rainbow, and one would almost imagine they were proud of showing their gaudy colors, for they dart along the ship’s side, as if on purpose to be seen. This diversion is often fatal to them, for the sailors contrive to catch them with harpoons. They are very fat, and yield a large quantity of oil. Their flesh is black, and tastes a good deal like pork; it is much relished by crews that have been long deprived of fresh provisions. In the course of our voyage, as I was looking over the vessel’s side one bright, sunshiny day, I saw something sailing along on the top of the waves that looked exactly like one of the chip boats which the boys sail in the Frog Pond. The sailors told me it was a fish called the Portuguese man-of-war. I looked upon it with admiration. It was a most curious sort of shell-fish, with a thin white membrane or wing spread in the air for a sail. By the help of this it steered before the wind just like a ship, and kept company with us for two or three miles. When I was looking at it with a spy-glass, it suddenly struck its sail, dove under water, and was out of sight in an instant.