70 Big Game Fishes 



along shore, and a few moments later we are 

 shoving off, seated in the stern of a wide-beamed 

 yawl. She is rigged with a two-horse power 

 engine, but the boatman rows out into the bay, 

 stopping to fasten on the leaders as we overreel. 

 This accomplished, he rows on while we unreel 

 the entire line to soak it an essential, as a dry 

 line will burn off under the rush of a fish when 

 the leather brake is applied. We are not out of 

 the bay when a flying-fish is seen coming di- 

 rectly toward us, then another, and still another, 



" Look out, sir ! " cries the boatman. 



Look out, indeed. Two fliers pass over the 

 boat, my companion and I dodging them, catch- 

 ing one, and then, not ten feet from us, a torpedo 

 seems to explode, and the still water flies into the 

 air a mass of gleaming foam. Quickly another 

 rod is taken, the living flier hooked on and cast. 

 We are surely caught unprepared, yet zeee-ee-zee ! 

 a swirl of waters, a wail from the steel throat of 

 the big reel, and the game is away. Gone ? yes, 

 gone, and if it must be acknowledged, two tuna 

 men, who imagined they were cool under any 

 circumstances, have been robbed of bait and one 

 hundred feet of line, and all in a moment, now 

 sit dumfounded, then laugh at this phase of 



