300 Big Game Fisbes 



off and at once we were rushing away, bow 

 under, in a manner so sharklike that I was con- 

 vinced that the tiger-shark had a mate and we 

 had hooked it ; but this conclusion was dispelled 

 by the sudden slacking of the line. 



" Ole jewfish, sa', an' he done tuck to his 

 hole ! " cried Paublo, as the little boat came to a 

 standstill. 



Paublo was a true prophet, and investigation 

 showed that the fish, in all probability, had run 

 beneath a deep ledge of branch coral, and any 

 attempts to lift it would result in chafing off the 

 line ; so we decided to " kedge off " the game. 

 The dinghy was rowed into the channel three 

 hundred feet or so, and while Paublo rowed vigor- 

 ously, I hauled, with the result that the fish was 

 forced from beneath its shelter, and after taking 

 it in two hundred feet, it made a gamy rush 

 around the dinghy. Owing to the length of line 

 I was able to hold the fish, while Paublo pulled 

 for deep water, where we held it before it sounded. 

 Despite a piece of canvas as an improvised brake, 

 I could not stop the fish ; and only finally suc- 

 ceeded by lying flat back in the bottom and bear- 

 ing on with the big line in the scull hole; I 

 thought for a moment that the fish would take 



