Giant Fish of Florida 



seeking for the smoke of the steamer that they hope will 

 have been sent to their assistance. It is two hours or 

 more since the giant was first harpooned, and it is tiring 

 sufficiently to allow of its being brought now and again to 

 the surface to receive a Winchester bullet or two in its 

 spine. Its mighty wings still flap, however, and it is like 

 some great unwieldy water bird for ever struggling onwards. 

 And now the welcome smoke can just be seen in the 

 distance, though it will take the steamer a good hour to 

 reach the ground, and goodness knows how many hours to 

 tow such a flotilla home. 



Only two hours of daylight remain, and one of these 

 is well nigh gone ere the steamer comes along, and 

 promptly crashes into the somewhat erratic harpoon boat, 

 striking her fair amidships, almost the worst disaster of 

 the day. Fortunately she was a nice limp boat with scarce 

 a sound rib in her, and she gave so freely to the sudden 

 blow that little fresh damage was done and she leaked but 

 slightly more than usual. The rest of the day's sport, the slay- 

 ing and towing ashore of the giant ray, was a matter of time 

 only, yet, curiously enough, when that man went harpooning 

 devil-fish again he went alone. The rest of the company 

 had somehow lost all taste for such weird recreation. 



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