The Rise of Don Antonio 255 



turn of the anchor rope, and held the buoy in his hand. 



The line was slipping through the smooth agate 

 guides, and Don Antonio, dropping into Catalina Span- 

 ish in his excitement, whispered hoarsely, "Ahora, aho- 

 raf" But not yet ; the bass might have the heavy bait 

 merely between its lips, to be jerked out by a too hasty 

 strike. Another foot, until ten or twelve had gone, then 

 the rod rose in a strong, well-directed strike, and the 

 game was on. Stse-stse-ceese-ceese ! went the line, hissing 

 through the water, the silent reel unburdening itself to 

 the measure. Over went the buoy, around whirled the 

 boat, and bravely they were away. Stern first it surged, 

 with Don Antonio holding back gently at the oars. 



The rod pounded the air with terrific jerks and the 

 xepert handling it was almost lifted from his seat by the 

 impetuosity of the rush. Directly out to sea the fish 

 went, headed for deep water, and as at this particular 

 point there was no kelp, the combat was to be on its 

 merits. In a few seconds the boat was rushing stern 

 first into the swell beyond the lee of the island, a big 

 wave beneath the combing stern. Ten, twenty, thirty 

 minutes slipped away, and the boat was well offshore 

 where the wind and sea were rising, and the angler mean- 

 time had accomplished little but hold the rod, vainly 

 pumping with seven hundred feet of line out, the fish 

 ever boring down. After a desperate effort it was 

 turned, when it rushed inshore, and at the end of an 

 hour was again towing them seaward. Sometimes a few 

 feet of line would be gained and as many lost, the fish 



