Big Game at Sea 



Killers have been harpooned on the California 

 coast, but the oil taken does not justify the danger of 

 the chase. It is not difficult in summer to creep 

 upon them. A large whaleboat was put within ten 

 feet of an orca, the harpooner successfully tossing 

 his weapon into it just back of the saddle. Into the 

 air went the vicious and powerful tail of the orca, 

 just missing the boat, fanning the atmosphere a few 

 seconds, then disappearing with a force and speed 

 that was ominous. The " starn all ! " of the whalers 

 was shouted at the second of impact, and the double 

 ender shot backward, as the harpoon's thud sounded. 

 Like a snake the coil of rope leaped into the air, and 

 the old whalers stared at the rapidity of the move- 

 ment. It appeared like a nebulous cloud, a phantasm 

 of indistinct snake-like coils poised for a strike. 



This killer evidently assumed a position twenty or 

 thirty feet below the surface, and for some time ran 

 like a racer, coming slowly to the surface to breathe, 

 then to drop and renew the rush from this unseen 

 and terrible enemy that was clinging to its very vitals 

 and could not be shaken off. The killer finally car- 

 ried them into a heavy sea where the pace was so 

 fierce and uncompromising that they took everything 

 as it came. No rising over seas here; they hit them 

 strong and full, cut and bored through them, the 

 spray caught by the wind beating against their faces 

 and like specters of the sea rising from the crests of 

 waves to beat them back. The fishermen laid back 



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