Big Game at Sea 



and found to be the current, or a jellyfish sagging 

 on the line, the angler quiets down and views the 

 landscape o'er the long line of sandy beach, the 

 groups of palms, and off at sea the deep blue waters 

 of the mighty current sweeping on, freighted with 

 semi-tropic treasures for other and distant lands. 



The boatman is telling of certain catches he has 

 seen when, like an electric shock, comes the sharp 

 staccato of the click. There is no mistaking it; no 

 tide rip here. And see! look! the line stiffens, 

 straightens out like a wire, trembles a second, 

 throwing the water in crystal drops, and then the 

 game is given the butt and the reel screams, high and 

 low, as the unknown jerks the line away in long and 

 splendid bursts of speed. 



There is always the thought that it may be a shark 

 or a ray, or some undesirable vermin, but you have 

 taken the amber jack before and its sturdy cousin 

 of the California islands and there is no mistake 

 about it. 



Springing to your feet, with the butt of the rod 

 firmly in the leather socket around your waist, you see 

 what a game fish can do, what splendid strength is 

 brought into play as it races away, dragging the line 

 from beneath your thumb and the heavy brake, seem- 

 ingly playing with it. 



Fifty, one hundred, two hundred feet of line slip 

 away before the fish is stopped, and then it appears 

 to strike heavy determined blows at the rod, sweep- 



68 



