The little brown wren is a bird with which most of us are familiar, as
it is one of our most common birds. It builds its nest in all sorts of
odd places, venturing about barns, outhouses, or even the homes of men.
One summer a ball of twine left over from the harvesting was placed upon
a shelf in our tool-house. The next spring a pair of tiny wrens
discovered it and selected it as a suitable nesting place. They built
the coziest and softest of homes in the hole in the center of the big
ball and several eggs were laid before we discovered it. It was then
left to the birds who had taken possession of it and they were allowed
to raise their family there in peace.
At another time a pair of wrens built their nest in the sleeve of an old
coat which had been left hanging in a shed and they made what, at least
to them, was quite a palatial abode in that which superior man had
deemed unfit for use.
Mary McCrae Culter.
[Illustration: GREENLAND WHALE.
(Balaena mysticetus).]
THE GREENLAND WHALE.
(_Balaena mysticetus._)
The whale is by far the largest animal on earth, some species being many
times the size of an elephant, and is it not a curious fact that in
appearance it so resembles a fish that many suppose it to belong to that
class, while truly it is not a fish at all? It is in reality much more
like a cow or a horse, although externally it seems very unlike these
animals; but appearances are not always to be relied upon.
When we examine the construction of the whale we find that it is
warm-blooded, as we are. We find that it has immense lungs which hold a
great quantity of air and that it must fill them or die. We find that it
has bones similar to those of land animals. It has the seven neck bones
found in all mammals, but it is the opposite extreme from the giraffe,
as in proportion to its size it has the shortest neck of any mammal,
while the giraffe has the longest. It has ribs, also bones for the
forearm, and, nearly obliterated, there are found bones representing the
hind legs. Instead of being hatched from an egg, as most fishes are, a
baby whale comes into the world alive and complete, and for many months
it takes its mother’s milk as a calf might do or a young colt. A baby
whale is indeed a monstrous infant, being sometimes ten or twelve or
even fifteen feet long; but by its mother’s side it does not seem such a
monstrosity, for the whale mother may be forty-five or fifty feet in
length herself.
These great animals are a most interesting study, for their ancestors
undoubtedly once lived on land. We can imagine the land animal, many
centuries ago, dwelling on the banks of some large stream, fond of
spending much time in the water, until with successive generations the
shape of the animal gradually changed and adapted itself to its fluid
surroundings. The forearms and hands gradually became covered with
continuous skin until the arm and hand became a flipper; the rear limbs
grew shorter and snorter as they were used less and less, until finally
there was nothing left to indicate their presence except a few small
bones. The tail, used as a propeller, grew strong, large and flat, and
we can imagine that the animals themselves, as they put out to sea and
in time avoided even the rivers, became larger as the centuries passed
by.
However this may be, the Greenland Whale has been found sixty feet in
length, although some other species are smaller.
I think we can consider the whale an animal of a roving disposition. In
early times it roved away from land, and now it belongs to the migratory
animals, changing its locality with the seasons. The Greenland Whale is
happiest with cold and ice, so when summer comes it travels north in
great numbers. These great groups are called schools, and being of a
social disposition, it is seldom found alone when traveling. At first
thought it would seem strange that a warm-blooded animal with no fur to
protect it could so enjoy the cold, but should we examine beneath the
soft, velvety skin we would find a great layer of fat, from ten to
eighteen inches thick. This protects the animal from cold like a great
soft overcoat, and the polar sea has for it no terrors.
Of the peculiar make-up of the Greenland Whale the head is certainly the
most peculiar of all the parts.
It is a great, shapeless mass about a third of the length of the entire
animal. It seems to be out of all proportion until one realizes that it
must provide food for this great creature, which is no small task. Like
all of the whalebone whales, the Greenland Whale has no teeth, but in
the mouth is found a great number of flexible, bone-like appendages
attached to the roof of the mouth and palate at one end and hanging
loose at the opposite end. These are known as the baleen plates and form
the whalebone of commerce. In the Greenland Whale this whalebone hanging
from the center of the jaw is sometimes twelve feet in length, and as
there are from two hundred and fifty to four hundred in number, the
great value of the baleen is readily seen. When the great animal opens
its mouth, a row boat with its oarsmen could easily be taken in, yet the
animal eats only small crustaceans, mollusks, worms and minute forms of
life.
When the immense mouth opens, it takes in a large amount of water
containing its food. The mouth then closes, but the water is permitted
to flow out, the baleen acting like a sieve, retaining the food supply
within and allowing the water to ooze away. The food is retained on the
great tongue and swallowed at leisure.
The eye of the whale is very small; the ear is barely perceptible, yet
when submerged, the sight is keen and the hearing well developed. The
nostrils are placed on the top of the head, so that the whale when
rising can readily begin the operation of breathing. With a snorting
noise the animal first blows up the water which has entered the
imperfectly closed nostrils when submerged. This is done with such force
that the water is separated into fine drops and thrown fifteen or
eighteen feet into the air. The whale then breathes with a rapid
inspiration, making a sort of moaning sound. When the lungs are filled
with air, it will plunge beneath the surface of the water and remain for
perhaps twenty minutes before appearing again, although when wounded it
remains under water a much longer time.
In spite of its great size the whale is so perfectly adapted to its
surroundings that it is a highly active animal. It swims without
apparent effort and on account of the great strength of the enormous
horizontal tail fin, it can jerk itself above the water and take long
leaps. The smoothness of the skin facilitates the passage of the immense
bulk through the water and the thick layer of fat diminishes the weight
so that a whale can move with the rapidity of a steamship.
The Greenland Whale is, on the whole, an amiable animal. It seems to
prefer to live at peace with its kind, and although it can make great
havoc with its immense tail fin, it seemingly does so by accident rather
than from viciousness.
Like all other animals the whale has its enemies, especially when young.
The killer-whale and some sharks hunt and attack the young whales, as
indeed they do the older ones; but the greatest enemy of all is man. For
a thousand years he has systematically pursued and captured many
species, until some are nearly exterminated. The Americans became great
whale hunters in the nineteenth century, and in the thirty-eight years
from 1835 to 1872 nearly 20,000 ships engaged in this industry. These
whaling ships were fitted especially for this work. They were built to
withstand the perils of the ice-bound northern seas and were arranged
for long voyages. It was a sad day in the coast villages when the
whalers sailed on these long, perilous and uncertain cruises, for the
ships frequently were gone three years and some never came back, though
as a whole the actual loss of human life was comparatively small. A
number of ships would if possible keep sufficiently near together to
render assistance in case of accident.
After reaching the whaling grounds usually two men were kept on the mast
as a lookout. When the cry came, “There they spout!” all became
excitement. As soon as it was determined that the whales were the
species which they were seeking, the boats were lowered, the harpoons,
the lances, the gun, the hatchet, the knife, the blubber-spade, and,
most important of all, the line, were all placed in the boat together
with a keg of fresh water, some ship’s biscuit, the lantern, candles and
matches; and in a very short time the men were lustily pulling toward
the monster they hoped to capture. They endeavored to approach the whale
from the rear and often were not discovered by the animal until the
harpoons were buried in its body. The boat was then rowed backward with
great speed, as the whale could easily annihilate it with one blow of
its great tail. Frequently the whale would dive down perpendicularly to
a great depth and if the line was not sufficiently long it would of
course pull the boat after it. In time the whale was obliged to rise for
air and the struggle was renewed. Other boats approached and threw their
harpoons, and the whale either turned upon its tormentors or ran,
dragging the boats after it. In time it became exhausted and then it was
killed either with the gun, harpoon or a hand lance. It was then towed
to the ship’s side, made fast with chains and placed to float head
backwards. The blubber was then torn off by means of pulleys and tackle.
This process lasted from four to eight hours. The upper jaw of the
whalebone whale or the lower jaw of the sperm whale was then cut off and
taken on deck. After all the valuable parts were taken the carcass was
cast adrift. The blubber was then cut into pieces and tried out, the oil
being stowed away in barrels. The value of the whale may be as high as
$10,000.
The trying out of the oil is indeed a weird sight. At first, wood is
used as a fuel, but afterward the residue of the blubber, called
cracklings, is used, as it possesses sufficient heating power to finish
the work. “Attired in their worst clothes,” writes Pechuel-Loeschke,
“half-naked, dancing and singing, running after one another and
brandishing their tools, dripping with oil and sooty like devils, the
crew disport themselves about the hearth. An intensely active life
prevails on board. The sight of this activity is doubly striking by
night when a mass of the cracklings is hoisted up in an iron basket.
This strange torch burns merrily, casting a weird light on the scene as
the blazing flames throw glaring, fitful rays on the deck and bring out
in bold relief the black clouds of smoke and the masts with their sails,
the reflection extending far out over the sea. By day huge masses of
smoke on the horizon betray the presence of a whaler which ‘tries out’
the blubber, long before one catches sight of the ship itself.”
John Ainslie.
Through the silent watches of the night
The snowflakes fast and faster fall;
And with swift and magic deftness,
Spread a spotless mantle over all.
Behold the landscape clothed in white,
Decked with crystals’ shining light;
See the towering fir trees bending low,
With their load of sparkling snow.
—Berton Mercer, “Winter.”