THE BOOK OF THE TARPON 



fish, yet I studied the depths again, from fifty 

 feet ahead of me down to my very feet. 



I was about to speak impatiently to my cap- 

 tain when there burst upon my sight, directly 

 beneath the bow of the skiff and within two feet 

 of its bottom, the huge form of a six-foot tar- 

 pon. I scarcely breathed as I slowly, so slowly, 

 turned the point of my harpoon downward. The 

 creature seemed to be floating in the air beneath 

 me, with its every line distinct and almost within 

 reach of my hand. I could make out the pro- 

 truding jaw, the flexible armor plate that 

 guarded the mouth, the round eye, and the silver 

 cheek. Beneath my hand was the big bayonet 

 fin, the like of which I had often followed for 

 miles as it cleaved the surface of the shallow 

 waters of the west coast. I could trace each 

 four-inch plate that bulwarked the side of the 

 tarpon and could have struck with my iron any 

 one of the purple scales which followed its spine. 

 Yet near as I was to the quarry I was helpless, 

 for with the light pole in my hand I could not 

 drive the barb of the little harpoon through the 

 double armor of the great fish into the flesh 

 beyond. 



28 



