31 8 Life and Sport on the Pacific Slope 



struck into two fish — simtdtaneously ! I lost mine 

 in five seconds, and with it nearly two hundred 

 yards of line. My brother was more fortunate — 

 his fish put to sea ; and Jim persuaded me to leave 

 the boat and try trolling from the stern of the 

 launch. For an hour and a half I trolled without 

 a strike, then I rejoined my brother. His fish was 

 still on, apparently as vigorous as ever. Jim re- 

 cited the old, old story that is always new to a 

 sportsman. The tuna had towed the boat some 

 eight miles ; he had played all the tricks ; he had 

 shown amazing strength, speed, and bottom; he 

 must, in Jim's opinion, prove a giant of the giants 

 — the largest that had ever been hooked ! 



For three hours and twenty-five minutes my 

 brother fought that fish ! At last, inch by inch, 

 he neared the steel — a yellow-tail gaff, not three 

 feet long. Jim leaned far over the gunwale. 



" He 's as big as a whale," he yelled. 



Then I caught a glimpse of him, as he surfaced 

 within a few feet of me. He was seven feet long 

 at a conservative estimate, and thick in the 

 shoulder as any prize-fighter. A-two-hundred-and- 

 fifty-pounder if he weighed an ounce ! 



Then, as the gaff flashed in the air, he turned and 

 fled ; the reel shrieked in mortal agony. Ye gods 

 and fishes ! Would that wild rush never end ? 



" He must have taken two hundred feet ! " I 

 gasped. 



" Two hundred yards ! " replied my brother as the 

 monster paused ; " neither more nor less." 



The day before he had spliced a new two-hun- 

 dred-yard line on to what was left of the old one. 



