42 Big Game Fishes 



ciated the delight of the old monarch at the 

 discovery of a new pleasure, for here was some- 

 thing novel in sea angling. It was six or seven 

 three- or four-pound black bass in one, rushing to 

 the surface, breaking the water into crystal spray, 

 plunging down, and bearing against the deadly 

 reel in a long splendid lateral surge. Repeatedly 

 the fish broke away from me, tearing the line 

 from the reel, then dashing in, in an attempt to 

 reach the old wreck, where on rusted iron it 

 might sever the delicate line, fortunately to 

 be checked by my run up the beach. 



In and out, giving and taking, I played this 

 gamy creature ; and it played me for twenty min- 

 utes, now near shore, again leading me out into 

 the shallows until at one stage of the sport I was 

 waist-deep, literally hanging over the edge of the 

 channel, prepared to swim rather than lose this 

 splendid fish which had unreeled every inch of 

 the all too short line. But the gods which watch 

 over the fortunes of the angler were with me, 

 and I slowly backed the snapper into shallow 

 water, then, having no gaff, and no gaffer to 

 witness my triumph, reeled and led it inshore, 

 holding it at short line, while I admired its beau- 

 tiful proportions. It rolled its eyes at me in 



