A Whale For The Killing (v5.0) by Farley Mowat

Author:Farley Mowat [Mowat, Farley]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Usenet
ISBN: 9781771000284
Publisher: Douglas & McIntyre
Published: 1972-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

* * *

* The guts of the cod.

When the Hanns returned to the Pond on Wednesday, they noted changes in the whale’s behaviour and appearance.

“She waren’t blowing near as high as Tuesday and she blowed a lot oftener. Couldn’t seem to stay down more’n a few minutes at a time. When she come close up we see her hide was peppered with white spots the size of silver dollars. Doug said they was likely bullet holes but a man could hardly believe she had that many bullets into her. I thought maybe ’twas where she’d had barnacles hung onto her, and they got scraped off.

“Well, sorr, we soon found out the truth of that. Just afore we left the Pond two of them speedboats come in from The Reach and six fellows jumped ashore. They all had them army rifles, and George Oldford, he started right in to shooting.

“We hailed them and told them to hold off so we could get clear of the Pond. George, he yelled down to we they had orders for to finish off the whale. Put it out of its misery, like. I told them that was only foolishness. ‘You’ll shoot somebody yet!’ I told them. They never answered but when we was passing out of the south gut we heard the lot of them open fire again.

“Doug, he turns to me and says ’tis time somebody put a stop to it. Trouble was, the Mountie waren’t likely to take a hand unless some of the big folks told him to, and they was into it as much as anybody... People was needing to use the Pond for the fishing and to fetch water from The Ha Ha, but ’twas hardly safe to go in there at all.”

Although I still knew nothing about the continuing attacks on the whale, they were no secret to most people. The firing could be distinctly heard in the eastern parts of Burgeo and by Thursday a rising indignation on the part of those who customarily used Aldridges Pond had brought the matter to a head. Late Thursday evening some of the Muddy Hole fishermen decided on a course of action.

During my years in Burgeo I had been called upon on a number of occasions to speak, or write, on behalf of individuals and groups who felt themselves incapable of reaching the ears of those in authority. Although a little vague about the real nature of my work as a writer, they assumed I had some kind of influence with those up above.

After supper on Thursday two fishermen from Smalls Island walked into our kitchen bearing gifts of cod tongues and a huge slab of halibut. They sat on the daybed and we talked for a while about the state of the fishery, the weather and other usual topics of Burgeo life. It was not until they were leaving that the real reason for the visit came out.

“I suppose, Skipper, you knows about the whale?”

“You mean the finners in The Ha Ha?”

“No, Skipper, I means the one down in Aldridges Pond.

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