Sea Fishing 309 



second the deed was done ; the ocean, recording the 

 splash of the leviathan, rippled applause ; and our 

 questions pattered like hail upon the somewhat 

 hard understanding of our boatman, a son of 

 Alsace. 



" Yes," he said, his white teeth in curious con- 

 trast to a lean, bronzed face, — " yes, messieurs, that 

 is a tuna, — a two-hundred-pounder, at least ! " 



Then he swore stoutly that they were not to be 

 taken with rod and reel. There were men, not more 

 than two or three, who boasted that they had killed 

 tuna with nothing more formidable than a ten-ounce 

 rod and three hundred yards of fine tarpon-line. 

 These gentlemen — so said the. man from Alsace — 

 were amateur fishermen, and, of necessity, accom- 

 plished liars. He could lie himself, upon occasion, 

 but in a modest way. 



"Look you, messieurs," he added earnestly, "I, 

 moi qui vous parle, have fished here for these many 

 years; I have seen these fish jump fifteen, yes, 

 twenty feet high into the air ; I have lost lines and 

 lines — shark lines and Jew-fish lines that are strong 

 enough to hold a steer ; and the tuna breaks them 

 like this — Pouff! Gentlemen from Florida, mes- 

 sieurs, have come to Avalon with rods and reels 

 that have cost hundreds of dollars, but they go 

 away without the tuna — leaving their tackle on 

 the beach ! '* 



For the week following we fished for yellow-tail ; 

 but our thoughts were with the tuna — of him we 

 dreamed by night and talked by day. We met the 

 hero who had captured the first fish in '96, and 

 absorbed the words of wisdom that fell from his 



