Sea Fishing 3 1 3 



gripped as a bronco-buster grips bis saddle ; tbe rod 

 passes over the otber knee, and tbe point of it 

 quivers some tbree feet above the boat's starboard 

 quarter. To keep rod, line and fish in this posi- 

 tion, and in no other, is the duty of a first-class 

 boatman. 



"By heaven, he's off!" said my brother, and I 

 groaned in despair as the tip of the rod straightened. 



" Not he," cried Jim, cheerily. " Eeel in, sir, for 

 your life!" 



And he did reel in — thanking the gods that he 

 owned a Vom Hofe patent multiplier. For the 

 tuna was still on, and charging like a bull bison. 



" Look out for the turn ! " said Jim. " When he 

 sees the boat he 11 twist like a swallow." 



The warning came not an instant too soon ; the 

 tuna fied kelpward, and the reel wailed a miserere 

 that echoed in my heartstrings. If the fish reached 

 that leafy sanctuary, he was safe. 



" Turn him ! " said Jim, between his teeth. 



My brother clapped both thumbs to the brake, 

 but the pride of the Pacific rushed on. 



" Harder ! " said I — " harder ! " 



" Lift your leg, sir," suggested the guileful James. 



My brother obeyed, eying doubtfully the slen- 

 der tip. The rod was brand-new, — a raw stripling 

 facing the heavy guns for the first time. Would it 

 stand the awful strain ? By Jove — yes ! 



" He 's turning ! " said Jim joyfully. " The tunies 

 don't like kelp. Now he'll put to sea, where we 

 can handle him." 



And, as he said, the tuna put to sea, steadily, in 

 a straight line ; no ocean-going yacht could have 



