Sea Fishing 315 



out, by Golly ! We just poured brandy into him, 

 and be 's left the tunies alone since that mornin' — 

 Thunder ! What 's he doin' now ? " 



The monster had turned, and was towing the 

 boat with renewed vigour towards Banning's Bay 

 — an inlet bristling with rocks and glutted with 

 kelp. For forty minutes the combat was Homeric, 

 but might prevailed. The tuna slowly but surely 

 neared the shore. Then the inevitable came to 

 pass : the line parted ! 



We whistled for the launch, which hovered near 

 us, and began again ; but the fish were no longer 

 feeding. Not a strike was registered. Yet we saw 

 thousands of tuna. An enormous school of them 

 was playing off Lone Point, a cape some six miles 

 from Avalon. Through the multitude and around 

 we passed and repassed. The fish were leaping 

 with such vigour that acres of water were churned 

 into foam ; but our baits were unmolested. 



We returned to the hotel in time for a nine- 

 o'clock breakfast. The adjective " keen " but feebly 

 describes our condition. Both launch and boat, 

 with their respective owners, were engaged for a 

 fortnight; yet my brother's thumbs were so sore 

 and swollen that the effort of holding knife and 

 fork proved a feat almost beyond his strength. 

 During that day our tongues wagged deliriously. 

 The tuna fever was upon us. 



A week glided by, bringing to us bitter dis- 

 appointment. We fished patiently, morning and 

 evening. The propeller of our launch had a busy 

 time of it. Each inlet, cove, and bay between Seal 

 Kocks and the Isthmus was explored, but the tuna 



