A Leaper of the Kuroshiwo 



launches plowing the blue waters to the south, and 

 were all but despairing when, without warning, the 

 tunas came in. A miracle of the sea seemed to have 

 been performed. 



For miles the ocean to the south was as smooth as 

 glass, when suddenly it broke into a blaze of foam, 

 acres boiled and blazed in the sunlight, as though 

 some maelstrom had broken out, some vast convul- 

 sion that made the ocean boil and tremble. This dis- 

 turbance begun some five miles offshore, came slowly 

 in, and when the first launch steamed out the men 

 saw the cause the leaper of the Kuroshiwo was 

 chasing its prey, the flying-fish, driving it in with 

 supernal cleverness, to corner it in one of the open 

 bays of Santa Catalina Island. Nearer the launch 

 approached; the air was now seen to be cut with 

 black leaping forms, and soon, by happy chance or 

 good luck, I stood and watched the acrobat of the 

 fishes. 



Few fishes leap for the pleasure of it; the tuna is 

 one, and this school covering acres and made up of 

 fishes of large size, of from seventy-five to three 

 hundred or more pounds, seemed to be in the air most 

 of the time. The leaps were the desperate attempts of 

 the tunas to reach the big flying-fishes, which when 

 seen on the surface from below, would be charged, 

 missed perchance, and the great fish would go dart- 

 ing into the air for ten or more feet, then turn slowly 

 with perfect grace, until the sharp head pointed 



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