Sperm Whales and Whales

During the nights of the 13th and 14th of March, the Nautilus returned to its southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape Horn, he would turn the helm westward, in order to beat the Pacific seas, and so complete the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but continued on his way to the southern regions. Where was he going to? To the pole? It was madness! I began to think that the Captain’s temerity justified Ned Land’s fears. For some time past the Canadian had not spoken to me of his projects of flight; he was less communicative, almost silent. I could see that this lengthened imprisonment was weighing upon him, and I felt that rage was burning within him. When he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed anger; and I feared that his natural violence would lead him into some extreme. That day, the 14th of March, Conseil and he came to me in my room. I inquired the cause of their visit.

During the nights of March 13 and 14, the Nautilus resumed its southward course. I thought that, upon reaching Cape Horn, the Captain would turn west into the Pacific and complete a voyage around the world. He did nothing of the kind. Instead, he continued south. Where was he going? To the pole? It was madness! I began to think the Captain’s recklessness justified Ned Land’s fears. For some time, the Canadian had not spoken to me about his plans to escape. He had grown less talkative, almost silent. I could see that his long imprisonment was weighing on him, and I felt the rage burning inside him. Whenever he met the Captain, his eyes lit up with suppressed anger. I feared his naturally violent temper would drive him to some extreme. On March 14, Conseil and Ned came to my room. I asked why they had come.

“A simple question to ask you, sir,” replied the Canadian.

“Just a simple question for you, sir,” the Canadian replied.

“Speak, Ned.”

“Go ahead, Ned.”

“How many men are there on board the Nautilus, do you think?”

“How many men do you think are on board the Nautilus?”

“I cannot tell, my friend.”

“I can't say, my friend.”

“I should say that its working does not require a large crew.”

“I’d say it doesn’t need a large crew to operate.”

“Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men, at the most, ought to be enough.”

“Certainly, under the current conditions, ten men at most should be enough.”

“Well, why should there be any more?”

“Well, why should there be any more?”

“Why?” I replied, looking fixedly at Ned Land, whose meaning was easy to guess. “Because,” I added, “if my surmises are correct, and if I have well understood the Captain’s existence, the Nautilus is not only a vessel: it is also a place of refuge for those who, like its commander, have broken every tie upon earth.”

“Why?” I replied, looking directly at Ned Land. It was easy to guess what he meant. “Because,” I added, “if my guesses are right, and if I have understood the Captain’s way of life, the Nautilus is more than a vessel. It is also a refuge for people who, like its commander, have broken every tie to the world.”

“Perhaps so,” said Conseil; “but, in any case, the Nautilus can only contain a certain number of men. Could not you, sir, estimate their maximum?”

“Perhaps so,” said Conseil. “But in any case, the Nautilus can only hold a certain number of men. Could you estimate the maximum number, sir?”

“How, Conseil?”

“How, Conseil?”

“By calculation; given the size of the vessel, which you know, sir, and consequently the quantity of air it contains, knowing also how much each man expends at a breath, and comparing these results with the fact that the Nautilus is obliged to go to the surface every twenty-four hours.”

“By calculation. I know the size of the vessel, sir, as you do, and therefore how much air it contains. I also know how much air each man uses with each breath. I compared those figures with the fact that the Nautilus must surface every twenty-four hours.”

Conseil had not finished the sentence before I saw what he was driving at.

Before Conseil finished his sentence, I saw what he meant.

“I understand,” said I; “but that calculation, though simple enough, can give but a very uncertain result.”

“I understand,” I said. “But although that calculation is simple enough, it can only give a very uncertain result.”

“Never mind,” said Ned Land urgently.

“Never mind,” said Ned Land urgently.

“Here it is, then,” said I. “In one hour each man consumes the oxygen contained in twenty gallons of air; and in twenty-four, that contained in 480 gallons. We must, therefore find how many times 480 gallons of air the Nautilus contains.”

“Here is the calculation,” I said. “Each man uses the oxygen in twenty gallons of air in one hour. In twenty-four hours, he uses the oxygen in 480 gallons. So we must find out how many times 480 gallons of air fit inside the Nautilus.”

“Just so,” said Conseil.

“Exactly,” said Conseil.

“Or,” I continued, “the size of the Nautilus being 1,500 tons; and one ton holding 200 gallons, it contains 300,000 gallons of air, which, divided by 480, gives a quotient of 625. Which means to say, strictly speaking, that the air contained in the Nautilus would suffice for 625 men for twenty-four hours.”

“Or,” I continued, “the Nautilus has a capacity of 1,500 tons, and one ton holds 200 gallons. So it contains 300,000 gallons of air. Dividing that by 480 gives us 625. Strictly speaking, that means the air in the Nautilus would be enough for 625 men for twenty-four hours.”

“Six hundred and twenty-five!” repeated Ned.

“Six hundred and twenty-five!” repeated Ned.

“But remember that all of us, passengers, sailors, and officers included, would not form a tenth part of that number.”

“But remember, all of us together, including passengers, sailors, and officers, would not make up a tenth of that number.”

“Still too many for three men,” murmured Conseil.

“Still too many for three men,” Conseil murmured.

The Canadian shook his head, passed his hand across his forehead, and left the room without answering.

The Canadian shook his head and ran his hand across his forehead. Then he left the room without answering.

“Will you allow me to make one observation, sir?” said Conseil. “Poor Ned is longing for everything that he can not have. His past life is always present to him; everything that we are forbidden he regrets. His head is full of old recollections. And we must understand him. What has he to do here? Nothing; he is not learned like you, sir; and has not the same taste for the beauties of the sea that we have. He would risk everything to be able to go once more into a tavern in his own country.”

“May I make an observation, sir?” said Conseil. “Poor Ned longs for everything he cannot have. His past life is always on his mind. He misses everything we are forbidden to have. His head is full of old memories. We must understand him. What is there for him to do here? Nothing. He is not learned like you, sir, and he does not share our appreciation for the beauty of the sea. He would risk everything to visit a tavern in his own country again.”

Certainly the monotony on board must seem intolerable to the Canadian, accustomed as he was to a life of liberty and activity. Events were rare which could rouse him to any show of spirit; but that day an event did happen which recalled the bright days of the harpooner. About eleven in the morning, being on the surface of the ocean, the Nautilus fell in with a troop of whales—an encounter which did not astonish me, knowing that these creatures, hunted to death, had taken refuge in high latitudes.

Life on board must have seemed unbearably monotonous to the Canadian, who was used to freedom and activity. Few events stirred him to show any spirit. But that day, something happened that reminded the harpooner of his brighter days. Around eleven in the morning, the Nautilus was on the ocean’s surface when it encountered a group of whales. I was not surprised, knowing that these creatures had taken refuge in high latitudes after being hunted to death.

We were seated on the platform, with a quiet sea. The month of October in those latitudes gave us some lovely autumnal days. It was the Canadian—he could not be mistaken—who signalled a whale on the eastern horizon. Looking attentively, one might see its black back rise and fall with the waves five miles from the Nautilus.

We were sitting on the platform, and the sea was calm. October brought some lovely autumn days in those latitudes. The Canadian spotted a whale on the eastern horizon. He could not have been mistaken. If you looked closely, you could see its black back rising and falling with the waves, five miles from the Nautilus.

“Ah!” exclaimed Ned Land, “if I was on board a whaler, now such a meeting would give me pleasure. It is one of large size. See with what strength its blow-holes throw up columns of air an steam! Confound it, why am I bound to these steel plates?”

“Ah!” exclaimed Ned Land. “If I were aboard a whaling ship, I’d be glad to see one now. It’s a large one. Look how powerfully its blowholes send up columns of air and steam! Damn it, why am I trapped inside these steel plates?”

“What, Ned,” said I, “you have not forgotten your old ideas of fishing?”

“What, Ned,” I said, “haven't you forgotten your old ideas about fishing?”

“Can a whale-fisher ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever tire of the emotions caused by such a chase?”

“Can a whaler ever forget his old trade, sir? Can he ever tire of the thrill of such a chase?”

“You have never fished in these seas, Ned?”

“Have you never fished in these seas, Ned?”

“Never, sir; in the northern only, and as much in Behring as in Davis Straits.”

“Never, sir. Only in the northern waters, as much in Behring Strait as in Davis Strait.”

“Then the southern whale is still unknown to you. It is the Greenland whale you have hunted up to this time, and that would not risk passing through the warm waters of the equator. Whales are localised, according to their kinds, in certain seas which they never leave. And if one of these creatures went from Behring to Davis Straits, it must be simply because there is a passage from one sea to the other, either on the American or the Asiatic side.”

“Then you still know nothing about the southern whale. Until now, you have hunted the Greenland whale, which would not risk crossing the warm waters of the equator. Different kinds of whales live in certain seas and never leave them. If one of these creatures traveled from Behring to Davis Straits, there must be a passage between those seas. It must lie on either the American or the Asiatic side.”

“In that case, as I have never fished in these seas, I do not know the kind of whale frequenting them!”

“In that case, since I’ve never fished in these seas, I don’t know what kind of whales live here!”

“I have told you, Ned.”

“I've told you, Ned.”

“A greater reason for making their acquaintance,” said Conseil.

“All the more reason to meet them,” said Conseil.

“Look! look!” exclaimed the Canadian, “they approach: they aggravate me; they know that I cannot get at them!”

“Look! Look!” exclaimed the Canadian. “They're coming closer. They're teasing me. They know I can't get at them!”

Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled, as he grasped an imaginary harpoon.

Ned stamped his feet. His hand trembled as he gripped an imaginary harpoon.

“Are these cetaceans as large as those of the northern seas?” asked he.

“Are these cetaceans as large as those in the northern seas?” he asked.

“Very nearly, Ned.”

“Almost, Ned.”

“Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales measuring a hundred feet. I have even been told that those of Hullamoch and Umgallick, of the Aleutian Islands, are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long.”

“Because I have seen large whales, sir, whales that were a hundred feet long. I have even been told that the whales near Hullamoch and Umgallick in the Aleutian Islands are sometimes a hundred and fifty feet long.”

“That seems to me exaggeration. These creatures are only balaeaopterons, provided with dorsal fins; and, like the cachalots, are generally much smaller than the Greenland whale.”

“That seems exaggerated to me. These creatures are only balaeaopterons, with dorsal fins. Like cachalots, they are generally much smaller than the Greenland whale.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the Canadian, whose eyes had never left the ocean, “they are coming nearer; they are in the same water as the Nautilus.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the Canadian, still watching the ocean. “They’re getting closer. They’re in the same water as the Nautilus.”

Then, returning to the conversation, he said:

Then he returned to the conversation and said:

“You spoke of the cachalot as a small creature. I have heard of gigantic ones. They are intelligent cetacea. It is said of some that they cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and then are taken for islands. People encamp upon them, and settle there; lights a fire——”

“You spoke of the sperm whale as a small creature. I have heard of gigantic ones. They are intelligent whales. Some are said to cover themselves with seaweed and fucus, and people mistake them for islands. People camp on them, settle there, and light a fire...”

“And build houses,” said Conseil.

“And build houses,” said Conseil.

“Yes, joker,” said Ned Land. “And one fine day the creature plunges, carrying with it all the inhabitants to the bottom of the sea.”

“Yes, joker,” said Ned Land. “And one day, the creature dives, taking all its inhabitants to the bottom of the sea.”

“Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor,” I replied, laughing.

“Something like the travels of Sinbad the Sailor,” I said, laughing.

“Ah!” suddenly exclaimed Ned Land, “it is not one whale; there are ten—there are twenty—it is a whole troop! And I not able to do anything! hands and feet tied!”

“Ah!” Ned Land suddenly exclaimed. “There isn't just one whale. There are ten, twenty, a whole group! And I can't do anything! My hands and feet are tied!”

“But, friend Ned,” said Conseil, “why do you not ask Captain Nemo’s permission to chase them?”

“But, friend Ned,” said Conseil, “why don’t you ask Captain Nemo’s permission to chase them?”

Conseil had not finished his sentence when Ned Land had lowered himself through the panel to seek the Captain. A few minutes afterwards the two appeared together on the platform.

Before Conseil had finished speaking, Ned Land lowered himself through the panel to find the Captain. A few minutes later, they appeared together on the platform.

Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea playing on the waters about a mile from the Nautilus.

Captain Nemo watched a group of whales playing in the water about a mile from the Nautilus.

“They are southern whales,” said he; “there goes the fortune of a whole fleet of whalers.”

“They're southern whales,” he said. “There goes a fortune for an entire fleet of whalers.”

“Well, sir,” asked the Canadian, “can I not chase them, if only to remind me of my old trade of harpooner?”

“Well, sir,” asked the Canadian, “can't I chase them, if only to remind me of my old job as a harpooner?”

“And to what purpose?” replied Captain Nemo; “only to destroy! We have nothing to do with the whale-oil on board.”

“And for what purpose?” replied Captain Nemo. “Only to destroy! We have no use for the whale oil on board.”

“But, sir,” continued the Canadian, “in the Red Sea you allowed us to follow the dugong.”

“But, sir,” the Canadian continued, “you let us follow the dugong in the Red Sea.”

“Then it was to procure fresh meat for my crew. Here it would be killing for killing’s sake. I know that is a privilege reserved for man, but I do not approve of such murderous pastime. In destroying the southern whale (like the Greenland whale, an inoffensive creature), your traders do a culpable action, Master Land. They have already depopulated the whole of Baffin’s Bay, and are annihilating a class of useful animals. Leave the unfortunate cetacea alone. They have plenty of natural enemies—cachalots, swordfish, and sawfish—without you troubling them.”

“Then I was getting fresh meat for my crew. Here, it would be killing for the sake of killing. I know that is a privilege reserved for humans, but I do not approve of such murderous sport. Master Land, your traders are doing wrong by killing the southern whale. Like the Greenland whale, it is a harmless creature. They have already cleared all of Baffin’s Bay of whales and are wiping out a group of useful animals. Leave the unfortunate whales alone. They have plenty of natural enemies, including cachalots, swordfish, and sawfish, without you troubling them.”

The Captain was right. The barbarous and inconsiderate greed of these fishermen will one day cause the disappearance of the last whale in the ocean. Ned Land whistled “Yankee-doodle” between his teeth, thrust his hands into his pockets, and turned his back upon us. But Captain Nemo watched the troop of cetacea, and, addressing me, said:

The Captain was right. The savage, thoughtless greed of these fishermen will one day wipe out the last whale in the ocean. Ned Land whistled “Yankee-doodle” through his teeth, put his hands in his pockets, and turned his back on us. But Captain Nemo watched the group of whales. He turned to me and said:

“I was right in saying that whales had natural enemies enough, without counting man. These will have plenty to do before long. Do you see, M. Aronnax, about eight miles to leeward, those blackish moving points?”

“I was right to say that whales have plenty of natural enemies besides humans. Those enemies will have plenty to do soon. M. Aronnax, do you see those dark moving dots about eight miles downwind?”

“Yes, Captain,” I replied.

“Yes, Captain,” I replied.

“Those are cachalots—terrible animals, which I have met in troops of two or three hundred. As to those, they are cruel, mischievous creatures; they would be right in exterminating them.”

“Those are sperm whales. They are terrible animals, and I have seen them in groups of two or three hundred. They are cruel, destructive creatures. They would be right to wipe them out.”

The Canadian turned quickly at the last words.

The Canadian turned quickly at those last words.

“Well, Captain,” said he, “it is still time, in the interest of the whales.”

“Well, Captain,” he said, “there’s still time to help the whales.”

“It is useless to expose one’s self, Professor. The Nautilus will disperse them. It is armed with a steel spur as good as Master Land’s harpoon, I imagine.”

“There is no point in exposing yourself to danger, Professor. The Nautilus will scatter them. Its steel spur is as good as Master Land’s harpoon, I imagine.”

The Canadian did not put himself out enough to shrug his shoulders. Attack cetacea with blows of a spur! Who had ever heard of such a thing?

The Canadian did not even bother to shrug. Attack whales with blows from a spur! Who had ever heard of such a thing?

“Wait, M. Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo. “We will show you something you have never yet seen. We have no pity for these ferocious creatures. They are nothing but mouth and teeth.”

“Wait, M. Aronnax,” said Captain Nemo. “We will show you something you have never seen before. We have no pity for these fierce creatures. They are nothing but mouths and teeth.”

Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the macrocephalous cachalot, which is sometimes more than seventy-five feet long. Its enormous head occupies one-third of its entire body. Better armed than the whale, whose upper jaw is furnished only with whalebone, it is supplied with twenty-five large tusks, about eight inches long, cylindrical and conical at the top, each weighing two pounds. It is in the upper part of this enormous head, in great cavities divided by cartilages, that is to be found from six to eight hundred pounds of that precious oil called spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable creature, more tadpole than fish, according to Fredol’s description. It is badly formed, the whole of its left side being (if we may say it), a “failure,” and being only able to see with its right eye. But the formidable troop was nearing us. They had seen the whales and were preparing to attack them. One could judge beforehand that the cachalots would be victorious, not only because they were better built for attack than their inoffensive adversaries, but also because they could remain longer under water without coming to the surface. There was only just time to go to the help of the whales. The Nautilus went under water. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places before the window in the saloon, and Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to work his apparatus as an engine of destruction. Soon I felt the beatings of the screw quicken, and our speed increased. The battle between the cachalots and the whales had already begun when the Nautilus arrived. They did not at first show any fear at the sight of this new monster joining in the conflict. But they soon had to guard against its blows. What a battle! The Nautilus was nothing but a formidable harpoon, brandished by the hand of its Captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, passing through from one part to the other, leaving behind it two quivering halves of the animal. It could not feel the formidable blows from their tails upon its sides, nor the shock which it produced itself, much more. One cachalot killed, it ran at the next, tacked on the spot that it might not miss its prey, going forwards and backwards, answering to its helm, plunging when the cetacean dived into the deep waters, coming up with it when it returned to the surface, striking it front or sideways, cutting or tearing in all directions and at any pace, piercing it with its terrible spur. What carnage! What a noise on the surface of the waves! What sharp hissing, and what snorting peculiar to these enraged animals! In the midst of these waters, generally so peaceful, their tails made perfect billows. For one hour this wholesale massacre continued, from which the cachalots could not escape. Several times ten or twelve united tried to crush the Nautilus by their weight. From the window we could see their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, and their formidable eyes. Ned Land could not contain himself; he threatened and swore at them. We could feel them clinging to our vessel like dogs worrying a wild boar in a copse. But the Nautilus, working its screw, carried them here and there, or to the upper levels of the ocean, without caring for their enormous weight, nor the powerful strain on the vessel. At length the mass of cachalots broke up, the waves became quiet, and I felt that we were rising to the surface. The panel opened, and we hurried on to the platform. The sea was covered with mutilated bodies. A formidable explosion could not have divided and torn this fleshy mass with more violence. We were floating amid gigantic bodies, bluish on the back and white underneath, covered with enormous protuberances. Some terrified cachalots were flying towards the horizon. The waves were dyed red for several miles, and the Nautilus floated in a sea of blood: Captain Nemo joined us.

Mouth and teeth! No one could better describe the large-headed cachalot, which sometimes grows more than seventy-five feet long. Its enormous head makes up one-third of its body. It is better armed than the whale, whose upper jaw has only whalebone. The cachalot has twenty-five large tusks, each about eight inches long and weighing two pounds. They are cylindrical, with cone-shaped tips. In the upper part of its enormous head are large cavities divided by cartilage. These contain six to eight hundred pounds of the precious oil called spermaceti. The cachalot is a disagreeable creature, more tadpole than fish, according to Fredol’s description. It is badly formed. Its whole left side is, if we may say so, a “failure,” and it can see only with its right eye. But the formidable troop was drawing closer. The cachalots had seen the whales and were preparing to attack them. One could tell in advance that the cachalots would win. They were better built for attack than their harmless adversaries. They could also stay underwater longer without coming to the surface. There was only just enough time to help the whales. The Nautilus went underwater. Conseil, Ned Land, and I took our places in front of the saloon window. Captain Nemo joined the pilot in his cage to use his vessel as a weapon of destruction. Soon I felt the screw turn faster, and we picked up speed. The battle between the cachalots and the whales had already begun when the Nautilus arrived. At first, the cachalots showed no fear when this new monster joined the fight. But they soon had to defend themselves against its blows. What a battle! The Nautilus was a formidable harpoon, wielded by its Captain. It hurled itself against the fleshy mass, passing right through and leaving two quivering halves of an animal behind. It could not feel the powerful blows of their tails against its sides, much less the impact of its own attacks. After killing one cachalot, it charged the next. It turned on the spot so it would not miss its prey. It moved forward and backward, responding to its helm. When a cetacean dived into deep water, the Nautilus plunged after it. When the animal returned to the surface, the vessel rose with it. It struck from the front or the side, cutting and tearing in every direction, at every speed. It pierced the cachalots with its terrible spur. What carnage! What a noise on the surface of the waves! What sharp hissing and snorting came from these enraged animals! In these usually peaceful waters, their tails raised great billows. The wholesale massacre continued for an hour, and the cachalots could not escape. Several times, ten or twelve joined forces and tried to crush the Nautilus under their weight. Through the window we could see their enormous mouths, studded with tusks, and their fearsome eyes. Ned Land could not contain himself. He threatened and swore at them. We could feel them clinging to our vessel like dogs attacking a wild boar in a thicket. But the Nautilus kept its screw turning, carrying them here and there or up toward the surface. It paid no heed to their enormous weight or the powerful strain on the vessel. At last the mass of cachalots broke apart, the waves grew calm, and I felt us rising to the surface. The panel opened, and we hurried onto the platform. The sea was covered with mutilated bodies. Even a tremendous explosion could not have split and torn this mass of flesh more violently. We were floating among gigantic bodies, blue on their backs and white underneath, covered with enormous lumps. Some terrified cachalots were fleeing toward the horizon. The waves were red for several miles, and the Nautilus floated in a sea of blood. Captain Nemo joined us.

“Well, Master Land?” said he.

“Well, Mr. Land?” he said.

“Well, sir,” replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had somewhat calmed; “it is a terrible spectacle, certainly. But I am not a butcher. I am a hunter, and I call this a butchery.”

“Well, sir,” replied the Canadian, whose enthusiasm had cooled somewhat, “it is a terrible sight, certainly. But I am not a butcher. I am a hunter, and I call this butchery.”

“It is a massacre of mischievous creatures,” replied the Captain; “and the Nautilus is not a butcher’s knife.”

“It is a massacre of troublesome creatures,” the Captain replied, “and the Nautilus is not a butcher’s knife.”

“I like my harpoon better,” said the Canadian.

“I like my harpoon better,” said the Canadian.

“Every one to his own,” answered the Captain, looking fixedly at Ned Land.

“To each their own,” the Captain replied, staring at Ned Land.

I feared he would commit some act of violence, which would end in sad consequences. But his anger was turned by the sight of a whale which the Nautilus had just come up with. The creature had not quite escaped from the cachalot’s teeth. I recognised the southern whale by its flat head, which is entirely black. Anatomically, it is distinguished from the white whale and the North Cape whale by the seven cervical vertebrae, and it has two more ribs than its congeners. The unfortunate cetacean was lying on its side, riddled with holes from the bites, and quite dead. From its mutilated fin still hung a young whale which it could not save from the massacre. Its open mouth let the water flow in and out, murmuring like the waves breaking on the shore. Captain Nemo steered close to the corpse of the creature. Two of his men mounted its side, and I saw, not without surprise, that they were drawing from its breasts all the milk which they contained, that is to say, about two or three tons. The Captain offered me a cup of the milk, which was still warm. I could not help showing my repugnance to the drink; but he assured me that it was excellent, and not to be distinguished from cow’s milk. I tasted it, and was of his opinion. It was a useful reserve to us, for in the shape of salt butter or cheese it would form an agreeable variety from our ordinary food. From that day I noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land’s ill-will towards Captain Nemo increased, and I resolved to watch the Canadian’s gestures closely.

I feared he would commit an act of violence that would end badly. But his anger was diverted by the sight of a whale the Nautilus had just come upon. The creature had not quite escaped the cachalot’s teeth. I recognized the southern whale by its entirely black, flat head. Anatomically, it differs from the white whale and the North Cape whale in its seven neck vertebrae. It also has two more ribs than those related whales. The unfortunate creature lay on its side, quite dead, its body riddled with bite wounds. A young whale still hung from its mother’s mutilated fin. She had been unable to save it from the massacre. Water flowed in and out of her open mouth, murmuring like waves breaking on the shore. Captain Nemo steered close to the dead whale. Two of his men climbed onto her side. To my surprise, I saw them draw all the milk from her breasts, about two or three tons. The Captain offered me a cup of the milk, which was still warm. I could not hide my disgust at the thought of drinking it. But he assured me that it was excellent and could not be distinguished from cow’s milk. I tasted it and agreed. It was a useful reserve for us. As salted butter or cheese, it would provide a welcome change from our usual food. From that day on, I noticed with uneasiness that Ned Land’s ill will toward Captain Nemo was growing. I decided to watch the Canadian’s movements closely.