The first fire in the try-works was started with wood, but, after the oil was tried out, the pieces, called scraps or fritters, served as substitutes. Thus the whale supplied his own fuel. The horse pieces had to be minced, and the clank, clank of the mincing machine was constantly heard. At night the sight was a novel one. As the blubber was thrown into the heated pots, the flames leaped out of the doors, the smoke rolled away in great volumes, the oil pitched with the pitching of the vessel and the smutched faces of the watch made the scene all the more gloomy. Was there ever a whaler that didn’t have plenty of cockroaches? If so, ours was not one. As the heat increased, out came the little fellows and ran about in search of new abodes. The work at night was carried on under the glare of blazing cressets, called bug lights, hung from the davit heads. These cressets were supplied with the scraps taken out of the boiling oil. The light they gave could be seen for a long distance, and, though we had not seen a sail that day, the light that night brought a vessel to us. She came very near and wanted to know if we were on fire and needed help. She was a merchant vessel bound for New York, and, as she went on her way, the pleasant incident made us feel grateful and put new vigor into our work. The deck was so slippery from oil and blood that at times it was difficult to keep on one’s feet. The boiling watch lasted six hours and, when it ended, the released men presented a sorry sight with their dirty, cold and clammy clothes and their faces showing such intense fatigue. As they went to their rest, choking with smoke and carrying a sooty deposit in their nostrils, they were happy in the thought that there was no longer occasion for harsh language among the men and still harsher commands of the mates. And yet I should modify this statement, for the work was not one of continuous hardship, for at times we made a show of merriment by nibbling bits of fried blubber and frying doughnuts in the grease. Later in the voyage we dipped biscuit in salt water, heaved them into a strainer and boiled them in the oil; also with the help of the steward, we made fritters of the brains of the whale, mixed with flour, and cooked them. The hot oil was strained into a large copper cooler, where it settled, and was then poured into casks—not always an easy task while the vessel pitched and rolled. The barrels were coopered, the hatches removed, and the barrels lowered into the hold. The casks were of various sizes, some of them containing three hundred gallons or more. When the oil was all stowed down, came the clearing up. Crude sperm oil, which was of a golden tint, and lye made from the burned scraps were excellent for cleaning. Soon deck and rigging were as orderly and presentable as if the whaler were a regular merchantman. The two whales yielded sixty and thirty barrels and the work of trying-out went on without a rest for three days and nights.