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 seasick; 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 possessed 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 the ship’s nose he shouted, “If we don’t get a shot soon we’ll have to leave them.” At that time we were heading for the whales, which were spouting only a short distance away. One of them had left the others and seemed to be feeding. He was swimming at the surface, sometimes under for a second or two, but never far down. The ship slid nearer and nearer with engines at dead slow until the huge body disappeared not thirty fathoms away. “In a minute he’ll come again,” shouted Balcom, feet braced and bending low over the gun. I was clinging to a rope just behind him, trying to focus the camera, but the flying spray made it well-nigh impossible. Suddenly I saw the Captain’s muscles tighten, the tip of the harpoon drop an inch or two, and caught a glimpse of a phantom shape rushing upward. Almost on the instant a blinding cloud of vapor shot into our very faces, followed by the deafening roar of the gun. I saw the black flukes whirl upward and fall in one tremendous, smashing blow upon the water; then the giant figure quivered an instant, straightened out, and slowly sank. For a moment not a sound was heard on the vessel save the steady “flop, flop, flop” of the line on the deck as the dead weight of forty tons dragged it from the winch. Balcom leaned over the side and saw the rope hanging rigidly from the ship’s bow. “I must have caught him in the heart,” he said, “and killed him instantly.” [Illustration: “Two men with long-handled knives began to cut off the lobes of the tail.” ] As the Captain straightened up he shouted to the Engineer to check the line. Then began the work of bringing to the surface and inflating the dead whale. Taking a hitch about a short iron post, the harpoon rope was slacked and run through a spring pulley-block on the mast, just below the barrel, to relieve the strain of raising the great body. As the winch ground in fathom after fathom of line the vessel heeled far over under the tremendous weight. I was clinging to the ship’s side looking down into the water and soon saw the shadowy outline of the whale, fins wide spread, nearing the surface. As it came alongside a lead-weighted line was thrown over the tail, a rope pulled after it, then a small chain, and finally the heavy chain by which the carcass was made fast to the bow.