Big Game at Sea 



a flying-fish in midair and toss it ten feet upward, 

 where it whirled about like a pinwheel, falling dead 

 upon the water, to be picked up by its relentless pur- 

 suer. That the tunas sometimes take their prey liter- 

 ally in the air there can be no doubt. 



The agility of the tuna and the flying-fish can 

 hardly be credited. In the wild chase the flying-fish 

 soars blindly on, the tuna a foot below, never losing 

 sight of the game. On one occasion a flying-fish so 

 pursued passed over my boat. I saw it coming fifty 

 feet away, and moved my head so that I would not 

 be struck, the fish passing within a foot of my face. 

 As it passed I looked overboard and saw a tuna dart 

 under the boat, and a short distance beyond it seized 

 its prey. 



The flier has apparently little or no power to alter 

 its course, or if so, to a very limited degree, as I have 

 repeatedly known them to strike the boat or pass over 

 it; and on one occasion a large individual struck me 

 on the neck. On another occasion a flier passed over 

 the upper deck of a launch so near my face that I 

 could have touched it ; and again, one was caught or 

 knocked into my boat and used as a bait for the vora- 

 cious fish. At times the rushes of the tunas present 

 an exhilarating spectacle; one, under certain condi- 

 tions, calculated to demoralize the observer. On a 

 calm day, when the sea was like a mirror, I noticed 

 from a hilltop a mass of clearly defined foam three 

 miles away. It apparently covered one hundred 



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