h of its tail
it recovered the deep water, and swam round and round in small circles,
near to the spot.

"We always leave one breast for the calf," observed my host; "when they
are all milked, I shall open the pen and let the mothers in."

"What are those enormous whales which are playing at a distance?"

"They are our whale oxen," answered my host; "we find that they grow to
an enormous size. Our houses are built of their skins."

"Is that a dead whale on the beach?"

"It is one of our whale boats," replied he, "but formed, as you
supposed, from the skin of a whale, hardened by frequent applications of
oil and lime. We use them to catch the whales when we want them."

"You do not use the harpoon, then?"

"Only when we kill; in general we noose the tail, and fasten the rope to
one of these boats, which are so buoyant, that the whale cannot take it
down, and soon tires with his own exertions. I am now speaking of the
males reserved for breeding, or strange whales, who sometimes find their
way into our lake during the winter: our own are so domesticated from
their infancy, that we have little trouble with them; but it is time
that we return."

"Here," observed my host, as we passed a whale-house, "is one of our
manufactories; we will step in. This is the common stuff of the country,
which is used for partitions in houses, &c. This is a finer sort, such
as I wear at present. Here we have the skin of the whale calf, which is
usually worn by the women. This is the most expensive article of our
manufactures; it is the belly part of the calf's skin, which being
white, admits of a dye from the murex--a shell fish, very common on our
shores."

"Have you money?" inquired I.

"None--we exchange; but the chief article of exchange, and which serves
as money, is the whale cheese, which keeps for years, and improves in
quality. That fine cloth is worth eight new cheeses a square yard, which
is very dear."

We arrived at the house, where we found our repast ready; an excellent
stew received my commendation.

"It is one of our favourite dishes," replied my host; "it is made of
lizards' tails."

"Lizards' tails!"

"Yes; I am about to procure some for dinner, and you shall see my
preserve."

In the course of the day I walked with my host a short distance up the
hill, when we stopped at a large pit, covered with a net work, made of
whales' sinews. The man who accompanied us, descended, and soon returned
with a pail ful