A Leaper of the Kuroshiwo 



The ending is not always so peaceful; a tuna 

 fought two anglers fourteen hours and then escaped. 

 Another fought an angler, or defied him, for six or 

 seven hours. He was hooked, if I remember cor- 

 rectly, at six in the morning. At noon I was put 

 aboard. The angler was exhausted, and the later 

 efforts of three men failed to subdue the fish. None 

 of us could reel it in. Time passed and as the sea 

 rose we faced the alternative of surrender or being 

 towed across the channel thirty miles to land in the 

 surf. We could have taken the fish in long before 

 by lifting by hand, but the feeling was strong to give 

 the splendid fighter fair play, all the advantage; and 

 no one suggested it until more than discomfort, and 

 the worry a night in the channel would have caused 

 several families, decided us. So we surrendered and 

 hauled the game in by hand, then raised a piece of 

 sail cloth stained in his blood to the boats hunting 

 for us to see, and finally were picked up six or seven 

 miles off shore, out of sight of Avalon. 



Another tuna took my lure off Long Point and was 

 conquered in forty minutes with a light rod. The 

 boatman hauled him in, landed him fairly when the 

 fighter gave a tremendous leap, bent like a spring and 

 went whirling into the air, fell on the rail, and I found 

 myself treading water, rod still in hand. The boat 



shot bow up into the air. My companion, Mr. 



of Philadelphia, clasping the bow of the boat as it 

 rolled over, shouting that he could not swim. We 



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