CHAPTER XVIII 



THE KINGFISH 



" By the way, old Cotton's instructions, by which I hoped to 

 qualify myself for the gentle society of anglers, are not worth a 

 farthing for this meridian." Redgauntlet. 



THE deadly monotony of a "dead calm " in the 

 tropics can be appreciated only by those who 

 have sailed the seas south of the tropic of Cancer 

 where the sun's humor is fierce and uncompro- 

 mising, and the wind god passes his summer days 

 in a long siesta. Our trim craft, that could show 

 her heels to any vessel on the reef, had literally 

 been caught napping. The wind had gradually 

 dropped until we floated on a sea of glass, the 

 only motion on its surface being the long swell, 

 the remnant of some recent gale, which served to 

 swing the booms from side to side, their jaws 

 uttering weird moans, shrieks, and wailings, as 

 they gripped the dry masts, which did not add to 

 the pleasantness of the situation. The heat was 

 pitiless, and the water pouring over the decks out 



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