Trailing the Sea-Bat 



and then at a snipe or other sea bird with a pump 

 gun, arrived on the scene. Ardent sportsman, he 

 was enthusiastic. He hauled up by the side of the 

 boat of Klein and Farley. Some one suggested that 

 Klein pull the fish to the surface and that Mr. Crow 

 should shoot. At once a chorus filled the air, 

 " Don't shoot; you might hit somebody "; " Don't 

 shoot; the shot will scatter"; "For heaven's 

 sake, don't shoot." Mr. Crow, evidently impressed 

 by this loud and universal request, and further by 

 the fact that the monster persisted in remaining 

 twenty to thirty feet in the depths of the sea, turned 

 his attention to relieving the two tired boatmen by 

 assisting them at the ropes. And he did valiant 

 service. When Cotter came alongside of the Klein- 

 Farley boat he quickly got his harpoon ready and 

 the ropes adjusted. Then Klein, Farley, Crow and 

 Cotter used their supreme efforts to pull the fish to 

 the top. For a time their efforts were unavailing. 

 But after a while the line slackened a little and the 

 bulky thing began to arise. Up, up it came, the 

 personification of stubbornness and weight. When 

 within two feet of the surface Cotter, with all his 

 force, threw his harpoon. The monster, stung again, 

 threw one of its flippers in the air, sunk in a flash, 

 was gone again. Men who had been standing up in 

 their boats to witness what they hoped would be 

 the coup de maitre, fell back in their seats with a 

 back-dislocating jolt. Again the monotonous travel 



