THE FIRST TARPON 



by a deep-swimming denizen of the dark waters, 

 and the freed line would come back with the 

 flaxen snood cleanly cut by the serrated teeth of 

 the big shark. 



Sometimes when the fisherman struck there 

 shot into the air, a hundred feet from the skiff, 

 six feet of the most beautiful creature that lived, 

 clad in glistening silver mail. The swift twists 

 of the body of the creature could scarcely be fol- 

 lowed by the eye, while the convulsive play of 

 the gills was no more visible than are the vibra- 

 tions of the wings of the humming-bird as it 

 poises over the flower from which it feeds. Dur- 

 ing the first long dash of the tarpon the buzzing 

 reel blistered the fisherman's thumbs within 

 their protecting stalls, while the boatman la- 

 bored with the oars and the line ran alarmingly 

 low. When the fish slackened its pace and the 

 oarsman gained, there was joy in the fisherman's 

 heart. He forgot his burned thumbs as he 

 reeled in the line, and as the slack gathered 

 faster than he could take it, he shouted to the 

 rower to stop and to back water quickly. Then, 

 as a fresh spurt of the fish snatched the reel 

 handle from his hand, sharply rapping his 



