GLADIATORS OF THE SEA. 343 



harpooner stands, and an upright bar of iron three feet high, rising 

 from the tip of the bowsprit just in front of this platform. At the top 

 of this bar is a bow of iron in a nearly circular form, to surround the 

 waist of the harpooner. This structure is called the "rest" or the 

 " pulpit." A man is always stationed at the mast-head, whence, with 

 the keen eye which practice has given him, he can easily descry the 

 tell-tale dorsal fins at a distance of two or three miles. When a fish 

 has been sighted, the watch " sings out," and the vessel is steered di- 

 rectly toward it. The skipper takes his place in the pulpit, holding 

 the harpoon with both hands by the upper end, and directing the man 

 at the wheel by voice and gesture how to steer. When the fish is 

 from six to ten feet in front of the vessel, it is struck. The harpoon 

 is not thrown ; the strong arm of the harpooner punches the dart into 

 the back of the fish beside the dorsal fin, and the pole is withdrawn. 

 The line is from fifty to one hundred and fifty fathoms long, and the 

 end is either made fast on board the smack, or attached to a keg or 

 some other form of buoy and thrown overboard. After the fish has 

 exhausted himself by dragging the buoy through the water, it is picked 

 up, the fish is hauled alongside, and killed with a lance. In the mean 

 time, several other fish may have been struck and left to tire them- 

 selves out in the same way. The following interesting account of the 

 taking of a sword-fish is from an article by Mr. C. F. Holder, published 

 several years ago in " Forest and Stream " : " The man waited until 

 we were almost upon them, and as one of them turned, as if in idle 

 curiosity, to see what the great shadow meant, he hurled a spear, and 

 the next moment the huge fish sprang from the water and, with a furi- 

 ous twist, tried to shake out the iron. So great was the effort that it 

 fell on its side with a crash, and for a moment was still, but it was 

 only for a second. The line jumped into activity, and rushed out so 

 you could not follow it, now swaying to and fro and making the water 

 fly like rain. About fifty feet of line had gone out, when six of us 

 managed to get a fair hold on the line, and attempted to try our 

 strength. If six individuals were ever jerked around in a more viva- 

 cious manner, they have my utmost sympathies. Now the sword- 

 fish would land us all together in a heap, then slacken up, and take 

 us unawares, throwing us to the deck with a force that fully came up 

 to my preconceived ideas of the sport. He would undoubtedly have 

 dragged us all overboard if the rope had not been sure and fast. This 

 sort of fun was kept up for about fifteen minutes, when the fish per- 

 ceptibly weakened, and the long rushes to the right and left grew 

 feebler and feebler, until we ventured to haul in. At last we had the 

 brute alongside. A rope was rigged from the peak and fastened 

 around the long sword, and the monster was rolled on board the 

 sloop. We measured our game, which was nine feet six inches long. 

 Though I have frequently caught sharks which measured thirteen 

 feet, I never saw any that showed near the strength of this peculiar 



