THE ANGLER'S GUIDE 91 



Up he goes five feet in the air thirty yards away, glist- 

 ening in the red sun like a bar of gold, and throwing a 

 salty spray that resembles a prismatic fountain. 



He does not fall clumsily on his side, but goes down to 

 his natural element as deftly as a graceful human diver, 

 and then, swiftly circling at least a half dozen times in an 

 endeavor to tangle the line or at least bewilder the angler, 

 he comes in straight for the sloop at a forty-mile-a-minute 

 clip. 



Within ten feet of the stern he stops, dives, comes to the 

 surface again, leaps into the air higher than ever, and 

 gallops off to my right in full view of all on board. So 

 near is he and so clear is the air and bright the sunlight, we 

 can even see the colors in his wonderful eye, the clear-cut 

 fins and powerful but graceful tail blades and the fine lines 

 in his sturdy mouth armor, as he speeds through the green 

 bay water like a torpedo. 



His tail is the motive power, and the two wavy blades 

 cleave with the rapidity of an electric propeller. 



The little line cuts the water like a fine knife, the reel 

 sings the song that charms, and with all the turmoil aboard 

 ship at this moment and with my every nerve and thought 

 seemingly upon that great fish out there exciting me more 

 than anything ever excited me before in my life, I am still 

 calm enough to note things of general interest, and I im- 

 plore my companions to observe the various features of 

 the stirring play at hand. 



"See that huge dogfish shark following my bluefish!" 

 I call out. "He's only after any part of the bait that may 

 break free. Look down here see the two big fluke 

 (plaice) right under the stern; they're as broad as hali- 

 but! There's a lordly weakfish coming up in the chum 

 streak! Try for him, Pierce!" 



"Thet's a wonderful pole," says Captain Brant, with a 

 strange look of defeat in his eye and a painfully puzzle- 

 wrinkled brow; then adding, as I surely suspect for no 

 other reason than to break ground for open apologies for 

 scoffing at so good a thing, "how much did it cost?" 



"Only twenty dollars Captain," I reply amid the roaring 

 laughter of my friends who have also noted the bayman's 

 weakening attitude, but I can't spare it now at any price." 

 "Lor', mister, I aint thinkin' of buyin' et, but I mus' 

 say you've got me inquis'tive like, an' I says I won' go 

 ashore afore I try my han' at pole fishin' ef one of yer 

 genelmen '11 let me hev yer pole fer jes' one ketch look 

 sharp, now sir, he's a comin' in; perhaps yer can boat him 

 now." 



The big bluefish does come in as the Captain says, and 

 I'd have him by the gills or on the home-made gaff if he 

 hadn't just now bumped his nose against the hull and so 

 frightened himself back to a fighting state again. 



But we can see that he is not over anxious to make a 

 prolonged battle now, for he is soon on his side again, and 

 I am carefully leading him up to the side of the boat, where 



