The Haunts of the Black Sea-Bass 



like medusa moved lazily about, rising and 

 falling, while here, there, and everywhere 

 flashed a veritable gem in red, gold, blue, 

 green, and amber, the minute crustacean 

 sapphirina. 



When off a point which juts boldly into 

 the sea, the keeper of the fortunes of the 

 black sea-bass ceased rowing, cast anchor, 

 and we swung in the current that ran along 

 the rocky shores to the north. The tackle 

 produced by my oarsman was not aesthetic. 

 The line was almost as large as that em- 

 ployed in the halibut fisheries of the East, 

 while the hook was perhaps twice as large 

 as a tarpon-hook, arranged with a well- 

 working swivel. Live bait, a whitefish 

 which we soon caught, was attached, with 

 a sinker sufficient to carry it down. The 

 line was then dropped over, and that pa- 

 tient waiting which makes all successful 

 fishermen philosophers begun. 



Three hundred yes, one hundred years 

 ago, a boat could not have dropped anchor 

 here without being the object of hundreds 

 of eyes, and the news would have been 

 flashed from hill-top to canon to the vari- 

 ous camps ; now the only observers were 

 the shag that flew along near the boat, its 

 long, snake-like neck extended, startling 

 the flying-fish into the air in fright, and 



1 68 



