Most people have at one time or another seen a shoal of porpoises either out at sea or travelling up the mouth of some large river, where

“Upon the swelling waves the dolphins show

Their bending backs, then swiftly darting go,

And in a thousand wreaths their bodies throw;”

and though they are small creatures, only about five feet long, they are very good examples of the whale shape, with their tapering bodies, broad tails, and the back fin, which is found in some whales and not in others. Sometimes they swim quietly, only rising to breathe, and then they work the tail gently from side to side; at others they gambol and frolic, and jump right out of the water, beating the tail up and down, and bending like a salmon when he leaps; and whether they come quietly or wildly, you may generally know they are near by the frightened mackerel and herrings, which spring out of the water to avoid them. For the porpoises have a row of sharp teeth in each jaw, more than a hundred in all, and they bite, kill, and swallow in one gulp, without waiting to divide their food, so that they make sad havoc among the fish.

Fig. 86.

The Porpoise.[188]

They are here to-day and gone to-morrow. A few kinds wander up into fresh water, such as the Ganges and the Amazons, but by far the greater number range all over our northern seas, together with their near relations the dolphins, and the bottle-nosed whales, and the strange narwhal, with its two solitary eye teeth, one only of which grows out as a long tusk. All these roam freely through the vast ocean home, coming into the still bays to bring up their young ones, which they nurse and suckle tenderly, afterwards moving off again in shoals to the open sea. There they will follow the ships, and sport and play, and probably we shall never know exactly

Footnote 188. Phocæna communis.

where their wanderings extend, though it seems that they prefer the northern hemisphere.

Among all the dolphin family the most voracious and bloodthirsty is the Grampus or Orca,[189] which is commonly called the “Killer Whale,” because it alone feeds on warm-blooded animals, seizing the seals with its strong, sharp, conical teeth, devouring even its own relations the porpoises, and attacking and tearing to pieces the larger whales. No lion or tiger could be more ruthless in its attacks than this large-toothed whale, which is sometimes as much as twenty-five feet long and has broad flippers. In vain even the mother walruses try to save their young ones by carrying them on their backs; the cunning Orca swims below her, and coming up with a jerk shakes the young one from its place of safety and swallows it in a moment. Nor do they merely fight single-handed, for many voyagers have seen them attack large whales in a pack like wolves, and in 1858 Mr. Scammon saw three killer whales fall upon a huge Californian Gray Whale and her young one, though even the baby whale was three times their size. They bit, they tore, and wounded them both till they sank, and the conquerors appeared with huge pieces of flesh in their mouths, as they devoured their prey. How much they can eat is shown by one orca having been killed which had the remains of thirteen porpoises and fourteen seals in its stomach!

How strange now to turn from this ravenous hunter to the huge Sperm Whale, eighty feet long, with a head one-third the size of its whole body and more than a ton of spermacetic oil in its forehead,

Footnote 189. Orca gladiator.

and to think that this monster swims quietly along in the sea, drops its long thin lower jaw, and with wide-open mouth simply gulps in jelly-fish, small fish, and other fry, thus without any exertion or fuss slaying its millions of small and soft creatures quietly, as the orca does the higher creatures with so much battle and strife!

For the sperm whale (Fig. 87) must need a great deal of food to feed its huge body. Though it has forty-two teeth in the lower jaw it never cuts those in the upper one, and seems to depend more on sweeping its prey into its mouth than on attacking it. And this perhaps partly explains the use of that curious case of spermaceti which lies in its huge forehead over the tough fat of its upper jaw. For this oil gives out a powerful scent, which, when the whale is feeding below in the deep water, most probably attracts fish and other small animals, as they are also certainly attracted nearer the surface by the shining white lining of its mouth. This light mass is also, however, useful in giving the head a tendency to rise, so that when the whale wishes to swim quickly it has only to rise to the top, so that the bulk of its head will stand out of the water, the lower and narrow part cutting the waves. In this position he can go at the rate of twelve to twenty miles an hour.

But if the sperm whale is curious, as it carries its oil-laden head through all seas from pole to pole, chiefly in warmer latitudes, how much more so are the whalebone whales, which are monarchs of the colder and arctic seas, where they feed on the swarms of mollusca, crustaceans, and jelly animals which live there. For these large whales, though they have teeth in their gums, never cut them, but in their place they have large sheets of whalebone hanging down from the upper jaw (see Fig. 84), smooth on the outside, fringed with short hairs on the inside, and crowded together so thickly, only about a quarter of an inch apart, that as many as three hundred sheets hang down on each side of the mouth of the great Greenland whale.

Fig. 87.

The Sperm Whale.

It is easy to see the use of these whalebones when we remember that this huge whale feeds entirely by filling its enormous mouth with water, and then closing it and raising its thick tongue at the back so as to drive the water out at the sides,

straining it through the fine fringes, which fill up all the spaces between the plates and keep back every little shell-fish and soft animal. But it is less easy to guess where these whalebone plates come from, till we look back at the manatee, and remember those horny ridges which it uses for biting, and which are exaggerations of the rough fleshy ridges at the top of a cow’s mouth.

Then we have a clue, for each blade of whalebone grows from a horny white gum, being fed by a fleshy substance below much in the same way as our nails are, so that these blades are, as it were, a series of hardened ridges, which grow out from the soft palate, till they become frayed at the edges, and form that dense fringe which is the whale’s strainer, upon which he depends entirely for his food.

Explain it as we will, however, it is a most wonderful apparatus. Imagine a huge upper jaw forming an arch more than nine feet high, so that if the whalebone were cleared away a man could walk about inside, upon the thick tongue which lies in the lower jaw fastened down almost to the tip so that it cannot be put out of the mouth. And then remember that this enormous mouth has to be filled with food sufficient to nourish a body fifty or more feet long. Who would ever guess that this food is made up of creatures so small that countless millions must go to a mouthful? Yet the whole difficulty is solved simply by these triangular fringed plates or mouth-ridges (see section Fig. 84, p. 318), covered with horny matter and frayed into minute threads like the horny barbs of a feather.

Nor are we yet at the end of the wonderful adaptation, for while the jaw is only from nine to twelve feet high, the long outside edge of the plates is often eighteen feet long, and for this reason, that if they were only as long as the jaw is deep, then when the whale went fishing with his mouth open the animals would escape below the fringe, while as they now are, he may gape as wide as he will, the long curtain will still guard the passage of the mouth and entangle the prey in its meshes. But what, then, is to become of this great length of whalebone when the animal shuts his mouth? Here comes in the use of the beautiful elasticity of the plates, for the great Arctic whaler, Captain Gray, has shown that as the mouth shuts the lower ends of the longer plates bend back towards the throat and fall into the hollow formed by the short blades behind them, so that the whole lies compactly fitted in, ready to spring open again, and fill the gap whenever the jaws are distended.

With this magnificent fishing-net the whalebone whales go a-fishing in all the salt waters of the world. They are not all of enormous size,—many of them are not more than twenty feet long,—nor have they all such a perfect mouthful of whalebone as the great Polar Whale; but when the whalebone is shorter, as in the Rorqual, and other whales with back fins, the stiff walls of the lower lip close in the sides of the mouth and prevent the escape of the prey; and many of these whales have a curious arrangement of skin folds under the lower jaw, which stretch out and enable them to take in enormous mouthfuls of water, so as to secure more food.

New Zealand, California, Japan, the Cape, the Bay of Biscay, and in fact almost every shore or sea from pole to pole, has some whale called by its name; for these gaping fishers are everywhere, and it is not always easy to say whether the same whale is not called by different names in various parts of the world. In the shallow bays and lagoons they may be found with their newly-born young ones very early in the year; while far out at sea ships meet with them travelling in shoals, or “schools,” northwards, as the summer sets in and the Arctic Sea is swarming with life. In fact the Californian gray whales go right up into the ice, poking their noses up through the holes to breathe, and then they travel far away south again into the tropics to bring up their young ones.

And whether large or small, toothed whales or whalebone whales, active as the dolphin and the huge fin-whales or rorquals, which dash through the water although some are nearly a hundred feet long, or lazy and harmless as the Greenland whale is unless attacked, in one thing all the whale family betray their high place in the animal kingdom. Nowhere, either on land or in the water, can mothers be found more tender, more devoted, or more willing to sacrifice their lives for their children than whale-mothers. Scoresby tells us that the whalers, as means of catching the grown-up whales, will sometimes strike a young one with harpoon and line, sure that the mother will come to its rescue. Then she may be seen coming to the top with it encouraging it to swim away, and she will even take it under her fin, and, in spite of the harpoons of the whalers, will never leave it till life is extinct. Nay, she has been known to carry it off triumphantly, for the lash of her tail is furiously strong when she is maddened by the danger of her child, so that a boat’s crew scarcely dare approach her.

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