THE BOOK OF THE TARPON 



ten feet of the canoe and the frightened creature 

 shot high into the air, parting the line in its leap. 

 There was danger of its swamping the canoe for 

 it grazed the bow as it fell, but we had no room in 

 our minds for a thought of danger in the presence 

 of the picture without parallel. 



The most beautiful creature on earth, a veri- 

 table Fish God, panoplied with glistening mail of 

 frosted silver, bordered with royal purple, and 

 vibrant with life, was before us. The brilliant 

 rays of the unclouded sun fell full upon it while 

 just behind the onrushing shadow of a great 

 cloud swept toward us. The background of the 

 picture was a sky of inky blackness from which 

 the forked lightnings were playing. Below, a 

 wind-driven wall of rain with accompanying 

 white caps was just at hand. 



For one long, unforgettable moment the fish 

 poised in mid air, then the picture faded, the 

 rod was dropped in the canoe, and the paddle 

 seized. Darkness came with the flood of rain 

 and the blow of the storm and we closed our eyes 

 to the one and leaned forward against the thrust 

 of the other. The wind raged against us, striving 

 to drive our craft out of the water, but always 



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