awn.
Moreover, the fish lives entirely under water, but the whale cannot do
so. He breathes air through enormous lungs, not gills. If you were to
hold a whale's head under water for much longer than an hour, it would
certainly be drowned; and this is the reason why it comes so frequently
to the surface of the sea to take breath. Whales seldom stay more than
an hour under water, and when they come up to breathe, they discharge
the last breath they took through their nostrils or blow-holes, mixed
with large quantities of water, which they have taken in while feeding.
But the most remarkable point of difference between the whale and fishes
of all kinds is, that it suckles its young.

The calf of one kind of whale is about fourteen feet long when it is
born, and it weighs about a ton. The cow-whale usually has only one
calf at a time, and the manner in which she behaves to her gigantic baby
shows that she is affected by feelings of anxiety and affection such as
are never seen in fishes, which heartless creatures forsake their eggs
when they are laid, and I am pretty sure they would not know their own
children if they happened to meet with them.

The whale, on the contrary, takes care of her little one, gives it suck,
and sports playfully with it in the waves; its enormous heart throbbing
all the while, no doubt, with satisfaction.

I have heard of a whale which was once driven into shoal water with its
calf and nearly stranded. The huge dam seemed to become anxious for the
safety of her child, for she was seen to swim eagerly round it, embrace
it with her fins, and roll it over in the waves, trying to make it
follow her into deep water. But the calf was obstinate; it would not
go, and the result was that the boat of a whaler pulled up and harpooned
it. The poor little whale darted away like lightning on receiving the
terrible iron, and ran out a hundred fathoms of line; but it was soon
overhauled and killed. All this time the dam kept close to the side of
its calf, and not until a harpoon was plunged into her own side would
she move away. Two boats were after her. With a single rap of her tail
she cut one of the boats in two, and then darted off. But in a short
time she turned and came back. Her feelings of anxiety had returned, no
doubt, after the first sting of pain was over, and she died at last,
close to the side of her young one.

There are various kinds of whales, but the two sorts that are most
sought