Moby-Dick; or, The Whale
This fin is some three or four feet long, growing vertically from the
hinder part of the back, of an angular shape, and with a very sharp
pointed end. Even if not the slightest other part of the creature be
visible, this isolated fin will, at times, be seen plainly projecting
from the surface. When the sea is moderately calm, and slightly marked
with spherical ripples, and this gnomon-like fin stands up and casts
shadows upon the wrinkled surface, it may well be supposed that the
watery circle surrounding it somewhat resembles a dial, with its style
and wavy hour-lines graved on it. On that Ahaz-dial the shadow often
goes back. The Fin-Back is not gregarious. He seems a whale-hater, as
some men are man-haters. Very shy; always going solitary; unexpectedly
rising to the surface in the remotest and most sullen waters; his
straight and single lofty jet rising like a tall misanthropic spear
upon a barren plain; gifted with such wondrous power and velocity in
swimming, as to defy all present pursuit from man; this leviathan seems
the banished and unconquerable Cain of his race, bearing for his mark
that style upon his back. From having the baleen in his mouth, the
Fin-Back is sometimes included with the right whale, among a theoretic
species denominated _Whalebone whales_, that is, whales with baleen.
Of these so called Whalebone whales, there would seem to be several
varieties, most of which, however, are little known. Broad-nosed whales
and beaked whales; pike-headed whales; bunched whales; under-jawed
whales and rostrated whales, are the fishermen’s names for a few sorts.
In connexion with this appellative of “Whalebone whales,” it is of
great importance to mention, that however such a nomenclature may be
convenient in facilitating allusions to some kind of whales, yet it is
in vain to attempt a clear classification of the Leviathan, founded
upon either his baleen, or hump, or fin, or teeth; notwithstanding
that those marked parts or features very obviously seem better adapted
to afford the basis for a regular system of Cetology than any other
detached bodily distinctions, which the whale, in his kinds, presents.
How then? The baleen, hump, back-fin, and teeth; these are things whose
peculiarities are indiscriminately dispersed among all sorts of whales,
without any regard to what may be the nature of their structure in
other and more essential particulars. Thus, the sperm whale and the
humpbacked whale, each has a hump; but there the similitude ceases.
Then, this same humpbacked whale and the Greenland whale, each of these
has baleen; but there again the similitude ceases. And it is just the
same with the other parts above mentioned. In various sorts of whales,
they form such irregular combinations; or, in the case of any one of
them detached, such an irregular isolation; as utterly to defy all
general methodization formed upon such a basis. On this rock every one
of the whale-naturalists has split.
But it may possibly be conceived that, in the internal parts of the
whale, in his anatomy—there, at least, we shall be able to hit the
right classification. Nay; what thing, for example, is there in the
Greenland whale’s anatomy more striking than his baleen? Yet we have
seen that by his baleen it is impossible correctly to classify the
Greenland whale. And if you descend into the bowels of the various
leviathans, why there you will not find distinctions a fiftieth part
as available to the systematizer as those external ones already
enumerated. What then remains? nothing but to take hold of the whales
bodily, in their entire liberal volume, and boldly sort them that way.
And this is the Bibliographical system here adopted; and it is the only
one that can possibly succeed, for it alone is practicable. To proceed.
Book I. (_Folio_), CHAPTER IV. (_Hump Back_).—This whale is often seen
on the northern American coast. He has been frequently captured there,
and towed into harbor. He has a great pack on him like a peddler; or
you might call him the Elephant and Castle whale. At any rate, the
popular name for him does not sufficiently distinguish him, since the
sperm whale also has a hump, though a smaller one. His oil is not very
valuable. He has baleen. He is the most gamesome and light-hearted of
all the whales, making more gay foam and white water generally than any
other of them.
BOOK I. (_Folio_), CHAPTER V. (_Razor Back_).—Of this whale little is
known but his name. I have seen him at a distance off Cape Horn. Of a
retiring nature, he eludes both hunters and philosophers. Though no
coward, he has never yet shown any part of him but his back, which
rises in a long sharp ridge. Let him go. I know little more of him, nor
does anybody else.
BOOK I. (_Folio_), CHAPTER VI.(_Sulphur Bottom_).—Another retiring
gentleman, with a brimstone belly, doubtless got by scraping along the
Tartarian tiles in some of his profounder divings. He is seldom seen;
at least I have never seen him except in the remoter southern seas, and
then always at too great a distance to study his countenance. He is
never chased; he would run away with rope-walks of line. Prodigies are
told of him. Adieu, Sulphur Bottom! I can say nothing more that is true
of ye, nor can the oldest Nantucketer.
Thus ends BOOK I. (_Folio_), and now begins BOOK II. (_Octavo_).
OCTAVOES.[3] These embrace the whales of middling magnitude, among
which at present may be numbered:—I., the _Grampus_; II., the _Black
Fish_; III., the _Narwhale_; IV., the _Thrasher_; V., the _Killer_.
[3] Why this book of whales is not denominated the Quarto is
very plain. Because, while the whales of this order, though
smaller than those of the former order, nevertheless retain a
proportionate likeness to them in figure, yet the bookbinder’s
Quarto volume in its diminished form does not preserve the
shape of the Folio volume, but the Octavo volume does.
BOOK II. (_Octavo_), CHAPTER I. (_Grampus_).—Though this fish,
whose loud sonorous breathing, or rather blowing, has furnished a
proverb to landsmen, is so well known a denizen of the deep, yet is
he not popularly classed among whales. But possessing all the grand
distinctive features of the leviathan, most naturalists have recognised
him for one. He is of moderate octavo size, varying from fifteen to
twenty-five feet in length, and of corresponding dimensions round the
waist. He swims in herds; he is never regularly hunted, though his
oil is considerable in quantity, and pretty good for light. By some
fishermen his approach is regarded as premonitory of the advance of the
great sperm whale.
BOOK II. (_Octavo_), CHAPTER II. (_Black Fish_).—I give the popular
fishermen’s names for all these fish, for generally they are the best.
Where any name happens to be vague or inexpressive, I shall say so,
and suggest another. I do so now, touching the Black Fish, so called,
because blackness is the rule among almost all whales. So, call him
the Hyena Whale, if you please. His voracity is well known, and from
the circumstance that the inner angles of his lips are curved upwards,
he carries an everlasting Mephistophelean grin on his face. This whale
averages some sixteen or eighteen feet in length. He is found in almost
all latitudes. He has a peculiar way of showing his dorsal hooked
fin in swimming, which looks something like a Roman nose. When not
more profitably employed, the sperm whale hunters sometimes capture
the Hyena whale, to keep up the supply of cheap oil for domestic
employment—as some frugal housekeepers, in the absence of company, and
quite alone by themselves, burn unsavory tallow instead of odorous wax.
Though their blubber is very thin, some of these whales will yield you
upwards of thirty gallons of oil.
BOOK II. (_Octavo_), CHAPTER III. (_Narwhale_), that is, _Nostril
whale_.—Another instance of a curiously named whale, so named I suppose
from his peculiar horn being originally mistaken for a peaked nose. The
creature is some sixteen feet in length, while its horn averages five
feet, though some exceed ten, and even attain to fifteen feet. Strictly
speaking, this horn is but a lengthened tusk, growing out from the
jaw in a line a little depressed from the horizontal. But it is only
found on the sinister side, which has an ill effect, giving its owner
something analogous to the aspect of a clumsy left-handed man. What
precise purpose this ivory horn or lance answers, it would be hard to
say. It does not seem to be used like the blade of the sword-fish and
bill-fish; though some sailors tell me that the Narwhale employs it for
a rake in turning over the bottom of the sea for food. Charley Coffin
said it was used for an ice-piercer; for the Narwhale, rising to the
surface of the Polar Sea, and finding it sheeted with ice, thrusts his
horn up, and so breaks through. But you cannot prove either of these
surmises to be correct. My own opinion is, that however this one-sided
horn may really be used by the Narwhale—however that may be—it would
certainly be very convenient to him for a folder in reading pamphlets.
The Narwhale I have heard called the Tusked whale, the Horned whale,
and the Unicorn whale. He is certainly a curious example of the
Unicornism to be found in almost every kingdom of animated nature.
From certain cloistered old authors I have gathered that this same
sea-unicorn’s horn was in ancient days regarded as the great antidote
against poison, and as such, preparations of it brought immense prices.
It was also distilled to a volatile salts for fainting ladies, the same
way that the horns of the male deer are manufactured into hartshorn.
Originally it was in itself accounted an object of great curiosity.
Black Letter tells me that Sir Martin Frobisher on his return from
that voyage, when Queen Bess did gallantly wave her jewelled hand to
him from a window of Greenwich Palace, as his bold ship sailed down
the Thames; “when Sir Martin returned from that voyage,” saith Black
Letter, “on bended knees he presented to her highness a prodigious
long horn of the Narwhale, which for a long period after hung in the
castle at Windsor.” An Irish author avers that the Earl of Leicester,
on bended knees, did likewise present to her highness another horn,
pertaining to a land beast of the unicorn nature.
The Narwhale has a very picturesque, leopard-like look, being of a
milk-white ground color, dotted with round and oblong spots of black.
His oil is very superior, clear and fine; but there is little of it,
and he is seldom hunted. He is mostly found in the circumpolar seas.
BOOK II. (_Octavo_), CHAPTER IV. (_Killer_).—Of this whale little is
precisely known to the Nantucketer, and nothing at all to the professed
naturalist. From what I have seen of him at a distance, I should say
that he was about the bigness of a grampus. He is very savage—a sort of
Feegee fish. He sometimes takes the great Folio whales by the lip, and
hangs there like a leech, till the mighty brute is worried to death.
The Killer is never hunted. I never heard what sort of oil he has.
Exception might be taken to the name bestowed upon this whale, on the
ground of its indistinctness. For we are all killers, on land and on
sea; Bonapartes and Sharks included.
BOOK II. (_Octavo_), CHAPTER V. (_Thrasher_).—This gentleman is famous
for his tail, which he uses for a ferule in thrashing his foes. He
mounts the Folio whale’s back, and as he swims, he works his passage by
flogging him; as some schoolmasters get along in the world by a similar
process. Still less is known of the Thrasher than of the Killer. Both
are outlaws, even in the lawless seas.
Thus ends BOOK II. (_Octavo_), and begins BOOK III. (_Duodecimo_).
DUODECIMOES.—These include the smaller whales. I. The Huzza Porpoise.