WHALE HUNTING WITH GUN AND CAMERA 



half-speed, for the whales would probably be down 

 several minutes. Turning the wheel over to the Mate, 

 he went forward to the gun, pushed up the spring 

 which cocked it, and waited, alert, for the animals 

 to rise. 



I had descended with him from the bridge and stood 

 just behind the gun platform. The ship, her engines 

 stopped, was rolling about on the mirror-like patches 

 of water left by the whales as they went down. After 

 ten minutes of waiting three silvery clouds suddenly 

 shot upward a quarter of a mile away. Instantly the 

 engine signal rang and the ship swung about, plowing 

 through the water at full speed until the whales 

 sounded. For two hours this kept on. Each time 

 when we were almost within range the big fellows 

 would raise themselves a little higher, arch their backs, 

 and turn downward in a beautiful dive, waving their 

 huge flukes as though in derision. 



I had my notebook and pencil at work as well as 

 the camera but it was getting pretty difficult to use 

 either. The wind had risen and I was deathly sea- 

 sick ; even the best sailors lose their "sea legs" when 

 aboard one of these little eggshell boats after a long 

 period ashore, and mine were gone completely. The 

 Orion was twisting and writhing about as though pos- 

 sessed of a demon, and every time she climbed a huge 

 wave to rock uncertainly a moment on the crest and 

 then plunge headlong down its smooth, green slope, 

 I was certain she would never rise again. Balcom 

 was doggedly hanging to the gun, but just after we 

 had both been soaked by a big sea that came over 



30 



