Chapter 60 - A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea by Mayne Reid
A curious Cuisine
During all that day, the sailor and the ex-cook of the Pandora kept watch from the summit of the dead cachalot.
It was not altogether for this purpose they remained there,—since the mast of the Catamaran would have given them an observatory of equal and even greater elevation.
There were several reasons why they did not cast off from the carcass, and continue their westward course: the most important being the hope that the destroyers of the whale might return to take possession of the valuable prize which they had left behind them.
There was, moreover, an undefined feeling of security in lying alongside the leviathan,—almost as great as they might have felt if anchored near the beach of an actual island,—and this had some influence in protracting their stay.
But there was yet another motive which would of itself have caused them to remain at their present moorings for a considerable period of time.
During the intervals of their protracted vigil, they had not been inattentive to the objects immediately around them: and the carcass of the whale had come in for a share of their consideration. A consultation had been held upon it, which had resulted in a determination not to leave the leviathan until they had rendered its remains, or at least a portion of them, useful for some future end.
The old whaleman knew that under that dark epidermis over which, for two days, they had been recklessly treading, there were many valuable substances that might be made available to their use and comfort, on board the Catamaran.
First, there was the “blubber,” which, if boiled or “tried,” would, from the body of an old bull like that, yield at the very least, a hundred barrels of oil.
This they cared nothing about: since they had neither the pots to boil, the casks to hold, nor the craft to carry it,—even if rendered into oil for the market.
But Ben knew that within the skull of the cachalot there was a deposit of pure sperm, that needed no preparation, which would be found of service to them in a way they had already thought of.
This sperm could be reached by simply removing the “junk” which forms the exterior portion of a cachalot’s huge snout, and sinking a shaft into the skull. Here would, or should, be found a cavity filled with a delicate cellular tissue, containing ten or a dozen large barrels full of the purest spermaceti.
They did not stand in need of anything like this quantity. A couple of casks would suffice for their need; and these they desired to obtain for that want which had suggested itself to both Snowball and the sailor. They had been long suffering from the absence of fuel,—not wherewith to warm themselves,—but as a means of enabling them to cook their food. They need suffer no longer. With the spermaceti to be extracted from the “case” of the cachalot, they could lay in a stock that would last them for many a day. They had their six casks,—five of them still empty. By using a couple of them to contain the oil, the raft would still be sufficiently buoyant to carry all hands, and not a bit less worthy of the sea.
Both of these brave men had observed the repugnance with which Lilly Lalee partook of their raw repasts. Nothing but hunger enabled her to eat what they could set before her. It had touched the feelings of both; and rendered them desirous of providing her with some kind of food more congenial to the delicate palate of the child.
Long before they had any intention of abandoning the dead body of the whale,—in fact shortly after taking possession of it,—Ben Brace, assisted by Snowball and little William,—the latter having also mounted upon the monster’s back,—cut open the great cavity of the “case” with the axe; and then inserting a large tin pot,—which had turned up in the sailor’s sea-kit,—drew it put again full of liquid spermaceti.
This was carried down to the deck of the Catamaran when the process of making a fire was instantly proceeded with.
By means of some untwisted strands of tarry rope, ingeniously inserted into the oil, the pot was converted into a sort of open lamp,—which only required to be kindled into a flame.
But Ben Brace had not been smoking a pipe for a period of nearly thirty years, without being provided with the means of lighting it. In the same depository from which the tin pot had been obtained was found the proper implements for striking a light,—flint, steel, and tinder,—and, as the latter, within the water-tight compartment of the man-o’-war’s-man’s chest, having been preserved perfectly dry, there was no difficulty in setting fire to the oil.
It was soon seen burning up over the rim of the pot with a bright clear flame; and a large flake of the dried fish being held over the blaze, in a very short space of time became done to a turn.
This furnished all of them with a meal much more palatable than any they had eaten since they had been forced to flee from the decks of the burning Pandora.