62 Tarpon Fishing in Florida. 



shoal, and this fishing never lasts more than two hours. It is 

 too by far the best sport off this coast of Florida, so the game 

 comes to an abrupt conclusion, and we dash for our boats. The 

 moon is full, the sky cloudless, and the atmosphere as clear as if 

 it was not. The dancing ripples which form a brilliant and ever- 

 changing silver road stretching towards the moon, force even a 

 vandal such as the writer, to forget for a moment the tarpon 

 beneath them. The only sounds are those caused by the oars, 

 the water lapping against the side of the boat, and the occasional 

 splash of a tarpon, for which we steer. But I am inaccurate. 

 There is not a breath of wind, and so the mosquitoes from the 

 shore are making merry all over the fishing grounds. They 

 possess a greater power of penetrating clothing than any others 

 I have come across, but a piece of newspaper will of course 

 absolutely defeat them. 



The sport now is more like that at Tampico, as the fish take 

 freely, and in this shallow water we dispense with our sinkers, and 

 let out a long line. I soon have a strike, and the leaps and 

 dashes of the tarpon are wonderful in the moonlight. We part 

 company, but it is not long before I am playing another. This 

 one has a great idea of reaching the deep water. He does not 

 waste much time or energy in leaping, but makes for the pass 

 in a most determined manner ; so much so, that at one time he 

 has out over a hundred yards of line. But this sort of thing soon 

 tires him. I follow, and get him within 3 or 4 yards of the boat. 

 He is now very tired, and flopping about spasmodically on the 

 surface. I have already numbered him among my captives, when 

 suddenly, quite close to the boat and right in the centre of the 



