was about thirty feet each way and between six and seven feet high. From a beam swung a lamp, which gave a dull light. Blanket pieces weighed a ton or more each, and, as they were coiled away, they looked like hideous serpents. While the floor of the blubber room was slippery at all times, it was particularly so when a heavy sea was on. Two men with short-handled spades hewed off blocks from the blanket pieces, called horse pieces, and pitched them up into a trough secured to the upper edge of the hatch. Then they were loaded into tubs and dragged away. The mincing of the horse pieces was performed at a wooden horse, placed endwise against bulwarks, the pieces falling into a tub. The beheading of the whale required skill similar to that involved in the treatment of the carcass. He had no neck, and, as a fact, where the neck might have been was the thickest part of him. It was necessary to cut deep into the flesh and divide the spine at the point where it was inserted into the skull, not an easy task, as the whale tossed and rolled in the sea. If the whale had been a small one, the head would have been hoisted on deck, but, as it was a large one, it was held against the ship’s side and partly out of the sea. The upper part of the head is called the “case.” A block was arranged so that it hung down from the yardarm, and a man dropped down to the head. A light tackle called a “whip” passed through the block. Then came the task of beheading the whale, which was no easy one. It is to be noted that the other boat which I have mentioned as fast to a whale succeeded in killing the creature—a cow—and towing her to the ship. She was secured astern to await the disposal of our cachalot. I have forgotten to say that while cutting in the first whale, the sea was full of sharks and the air thick with birds. This was not peculiar to our case, but was common wherever a sperm whale was cut in. Sharks! Sharks! Sharks! Squirming, darting, wiggling, showing their white bellies as they turned this way and that and displaying rows of huge teeth as they opened their hideous mouths. Their efforts to tear off pieces of blubber were not very successful, but the fact that they remained by the whale and showed no disposition to depart seemed to indicate that they knew that a treat awaited them when the carcass was to be cut from the ship and to drift away. “Isn’t there any danger from these creatures?” I asked Kreelman. “Not very much. A shark is an awful coward, unless he’s sure he’s got the better of you. I’ve seen one of ’em jump clean out of water to try to get a man on the whale’s back, but, instead of that, a man on deck got the shark with a spade, and, as he fell back in the water with the blood flowing, the other sharks got him. Now and then one of ’em will jump out of water and fall back among the others, not so much for exercise but to show how hungry he is. Then it isn’t always easy to get him with a spade, but I’ve seen it done.”