THE GULF COAST OF FLORIDA. 197 



bone that is especially rich and oily, and somewhat resembles 

 the flavor of the sardine, as we get it, dressed in oil. 



After contemplating with pride, for a few minutes, this, 

 my first prize, we pushed off and I cast again. We had gone 

 but a few yards when the alarm in my reel notified me that I 

 had some more business to attend to. I landed this catch 

 with as little delay as possible, and was surprised and delighted 

 to find that I had a fine Spanish mackerel sixteen inches long 

 and weighing three pounds. This fish is too well known to 

 need any description. Suffice it to say that I relished a piece 

 of him broiled for breakfast next morning, as I had never before 

 relished Spanish mackerel. We had scarcely gotten under 

 way again, with perhaps one third of my line out, when away 

 she went again. I thumbed the line, struck hard and although 

 the drag was tight, my fish went down the Pass like a bolt of 

 lightning, until every foot of my two hundred and fifty feet 

 was out. I shuddered as I thought of the possibility of the 

 line snapping, but at this juncture I gave him the butt of the 

 rod, and succeeded in checking him. Then, what a thrilling 

 sight met my eager eye ! Whisp ! he went six feet into the 

 air, and shook himself like a wild colt striving to break the 

 lariat with which he is caught. But no, my mettley little 

 friend, you are securely hooked. My line stands firm, and 

 you must abide the consequences. He comes back into the 

 water with a terrific splash, and starts directly toward me, and 

 with all possible speed I reel in. He passes me, and by the 

 time he comes taut above, I have a hundred feet or more of 

 the line in hand. Then he jumps again, displaying his rich, 

 silvery form in the bright sunlight, each time increasing my 

 anxiety to make sure of my prize. As he starts down the 

 Pass again with the speed of the wind, I thumb the reel again, 

 but in spite of that and the drag, he takes it all out before he 

 stops, and again rises high in the air, There is no sulking 



