The engines were at dead slow now, for the whale had surely seen us and might double under water, coming up astern. Andersen was ready at the gun, swinging the huge weapon slightly to and fro, his feet braced, every few seconds calling out to the Bo’s’n aloft, “Miye masu ka?” (Do you see him?)
We had been waiting two minutes (it seemed hours) when the Bo’s’n shouted:
“He’s coming. He’s coming. On the port bow.”
In a second the water began to swirl and boil and we could see the shadowy form rise almost to the surface, check its upward rush, and dash along parallel with the ship.
A sei whale showing a portion of the soft fatty tongue.
“Dame (no good), dame, he won’t come up!” exclaimed Andersen. “Mo sukoshi (a little more) speed, mo sukoshi speed! Dame, dame, he’s leaving us. Half speed, half speed!”
“In the mirror of my camera I could see the enormous gray head burst from the water, the blowholes open and send forth a cloud of vapor, and the slim back draw itself upward, the water streaming from the high fin as it cut the surface. Andersen’s last words were drowned in the crashing roar of the gun.”
Never shall I forget the intense excitement of those few minutes! The huge, ghost-like figure was swimming along just under the surface, not five feet down, aggravatingly close but as well protected by the shallow water-armor as though it had been of steel. Andersen was shouting beside me: