The Hogfisb 119 



the sea which come from far away, deep in the 

 heart of some roller from the vast unknown, at 

 first low murmurs, then the clash of cymbals as 

 the silvery crest topples over, bursting into 

 thundering crash all down the line, spreading 

 out upon the sands, where the pebbles are casta- 

 nettes, or leaping high upon the face of some 

 rocky cliff with ponderous roar, all these the 

 true angler loves and understands, so never 

 draws a blank in a day's fishing. To the world 

 he goes a-fishing, yet the actual catch is far from 

 being the sum total of his pleasure; he never 

 fails to land his game, if not fish, some new 

 delight in the appreciation of life and nature. 

 The haunts of the hogfish are among the most 

 aesthetic of all fishes, and if the game is not 

 found when sought the angler may pass the day 

 taking the many-hued courtiers which make up 

 the train and retinue of this radiant creature. My 

 fishing-ground was a long submerged coral reef, 

 which began with Bush Key of the Tortugas reef 

 and extended southward, a barrier to the sandy 

 lagoon to the west. The reef was made up of 

 dead coral heads, which were bare at extreme low 

 tide, but at the flood the sea rolled over it, pound- 

 ing so furiously in storms that the roar could be 



