A sword-fish running his sword through one of the glass windows, and perhaps coming in himself along with the water, sent a chill down her back every time she thought about it and talked about it.
"You needn't be afraid of sword-fishes," said Captain Jim Hubbell.

"They don't fancy the cold water we are sailin' in; and as to whales, don't you know, madam, there ain't no more of 'em ?" "No more whales!" exclaimed Sarah.

"I have heard about 'em all my life!" "Oh, you can read and hear about 'em easy enough," replied Captain Jim, "but you nor nobody else will ever see none of 'em ag'in--at least, in this part of the world.

Sperm-whales began gittin' scarce when I was a boy, and pretty soon there was nothin' left but bow-head or right whales, that tried to keep out of the way of human bein's by livin' far up North; but when they came to shootin' 'em with cannons which would carry three or four miles, the whale's day was up, and he got scarcer and scarcer, until he faded out altogether.

There was a British vessel, the Barkright, that killed two bow-head whales in 1935, north of Melville Island, but since that time there hasn't been a whale seen in all the arctic waters.