ioo OLD BLACK BASS 



reared and made for deep, only to be let 

 go. Far out the gentle pull of line brought 

 him up. He darted back, leaped, rushed 

 sidewise; but ever the gentle pressure from 

 the shallows. It was this gentle pull that 

 drove him mad insinuating, relentless, 

 portentous, inexorable. 



He opened his mouth and let his gills 

 go limp, the while he bucked the pressure. 

 His esophagus gave, and the hook pulled 

 out to the base of the tongue. Another 

 leap and the hook tore partly out. If the 

 pressure on it were relaxed, letting it slip 

 back slightly, it might come free. But Old 

 Black Bass did not know this. The angler 

 did. 



Vainly he fought, but with growing 

 weariness. Fifteen minutes passed. The 

 pull was drawing him in. But he cared 

 little. Already the objects about him ap- 

 peared dark; already he had ceased to draw 

 the water through his gills. He did little 

 more than flap with caudal in weak effort 

 at resistance. His body was unwieldy, 

 cumbersome, unresponsive. 



He was near the surface. A black 

 shadow loomed up above him; a circular 



