PHOTOGRAPHING WILD LIFE 451 



studied they were," was his reply, and then he 

 told of the infinite pains he had taken with even 

 the least of their attitudes and actions. 



Even the most conscientious work is not al- 

 ways appreciated and an English editor who once 

 misjudged me could never be convinced of his 

 error. I was out in my skiff with my boatman, 

 carrying harpoon and camera. We were off 

 Gasparilla Pass in the Gulf of Mexico and I was 

 standing in the bow of the skiff with my harpoon 

 while the boatman sculled. A small sloop that 

 was passing was struck by a squall, capsized, and 

 sunk. Only the top of the mast showed and as 

 it swayed in the water the owner of the craft 

 clung to it. He shouted to us for help and I 

 paddled fiercely with my harpoon to get near him. 

 My boatman was too leisurely in his motions and 

 I called to him: 



"Hurry up there, hurry up!" 



"There isn't any hurry, we'll be there in time 

 to save him," was the calm reply. 



" 'Save him!' " I yelled. "I don't want to save 

 him, I want to photograph him!" 



