3 1 2 Life and Sport on the Pacific Slope 



with the fish. We 're playin' in big luck to find 

 tunies right here the very first time ye go out." 



His oars were lying in the rowlocks as he spoke, 

 and the painter was in his strong hands ; the launch 

 was nearing Abalone Point. But now, alas ! no 

 musical splash proclaimed the presence of the tuna. 

 We sped here and there, now close to the beds of 

 kelp, now heading straight to sea ; boxing the com- 

 pass in a vain quest. 



" There they are ! " yelled the man in charge of 

 the launch. " Dead astern ! " 



He put his trim little vessel about as we strained 

 our eyes and ears ; we could see nothing and hear 

 as much. The senses of those who go down to the 

 sea in ships are quickened abnormally ; we were 

 land-lubbers, and realized the fact with shame. 



Zip ! Zip ! Z-e-e-e-e-e-e ! 



My brother's reel was screaming for help. In a 

 second Jim had dropped the tow-rope and seized the 

 oars ; in two seconds, the blades were gripping the 

 water ; in three, we were slackening speed ; in five, 

 we were going astern in the wake of the tuna. 

 The supreme moment had passed. Still the line 

 hissed and smoked through the rings, and the reels 

 shrieked more hoarsely and fitfully as the strong 

 leather brake was applied. 



" Check him — check him, sir ! " shouted Jim. 



" I can't," groaned my brother. " I might as 

 well try and check a runaway locomotive." 



I had reeled in my own line and was x watching 

 the point of my brother's rod. In fighting these 

 Titans, both hands are needed for the reel. The 

 butt of the rod is placed under one knee, and 



