CHECKMATING A TARPON 



slight strain I could put on the line wouldn't 

 have f eazed a fish one-tenth the size of the one to 

 which I was fast. I needed more yards than I 

 had feet of line to offer a chance of tiring this 

 creature whose length exceeded mine by a foot. 

 One more stroke of that propeller tail and my 

 goose would be cooked. 



I yelled to the captain to paddle for his life, 

 regardless of the fact that he was already putting 

 in licks that endangered it. Soon he was gain- 

 ing faster than I could take in line and I shouted 

 to him to slow up, changing the next instant to 

 a cry to go ahead. When the trouble was over I 

 asked the captain if I had screamed at him very 

 often. 



" 'Most all the time, but I didn't mind. I knew 

 you was excited and didn't rightly know what 

 you said," was his reply. 



The line never again ran so low as in that first 

 dash of the tarpon. Yet a hundred times the end 

 of our hopes seemed near, but always the fish 

 swam slower, or the captain paddled faster. The 

 wild leaps of the creature were startling but wel- 

 come for they tired the tarpon without carrying 

 away line. We had followed the fish up, down, 



