Fighting a Swordfish at Night 7 



The water fairly teemed with life. Long 

 chains of Salpa3 diamonds of the sea took every 

 possible shape. Other chains might have been 

 made up of pink and yellow roses, " sports " of 

 weird beauty, resembling myriads of jelly fishes 

 the size of a saucer, joined together, or here 

 broken apart, the gems of the deep sea. 



It seemed practically impossible for a sword- 

 fish nine or ten feet long to swim here without 

 continually impaling these garlands of the 

 ocean, or picking them up on its sword in pas- 

 sive carte or tierce. Deep in the blue were vivid 

 gems in pink, red, blue, and yellow, the little 

 crustacean Sappliirina, gleaming with irides- 

 cent rays. 



In a single glance the eye swept all the gradi- 

 ents of grace, beauty, and loveliness in the drift- 

 ing evanescent jellies of the sea, which at night 

 became blazing lights, converting the grim re- 

 cesses of the deep into realms of strange beauty ; 

 while every wave that broke, or thundered on 

 the strand, became a blaze of splendid light. 



Our clever skipper placed Pinchot's bait over, 

 in front, and on the side of the swordsman, but 

 it was of no avail. Then we ran into another 

 swordfish which struck and jerked so much line 

 from the reel in so short a time, and with so 

 vehement a suggestion of power that we sus- 

 pected a tuna. All this, and more; yet the day 

 was a blank so far as a swordfish was concerned. 



