THE TARPON SWAMPS US 



paddle was light and consisted in keeping the 

 canoe head-on to the fish. The tarpon had the 

 same chance of escaping the canoe that a horse 

 in harness has of running away from the whiffle- 

 tree. Yet as when a horse bolts from the road 

 there is danger to the outfit, so when a tarpon 

 to which the canoe was hitched dashed off to one 

 side or turned back, there was little between 

 those in the craft and disaster. 



One tarpon turned back so quickly, after tow- 

 ing us steadily for a quarter of a mile or so, that 

 I couldn't change the course of the canoe till the 

 fish had torn a dozen yards of line from the cap- 

 tain's hands and was that far behind us. The 

 captain pulled fiercely and the creature turned 

 again and seemed to leap at me with wide-open 

 jaws. Its weight fell on my arm and the side of 

 the canoe which would have capsized but for 

 some quick balancing by my companion. The 

 rest of that afternoon the captain played the fish 

 a bit less savagely, for which I was not especially 

 sorry. 



I had no dread of being swamped by a tarpon. 

 It had happened before and would happen again, 

 probably that very day, but I wanted it over 



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