68 Tarpon Fishing in Florida. 



The hottest sun can make no impression whatever on this 

 combination, but on the other hand it is not very apt to impress 

 the ladies. Our American friends are very talkative and enter- 

 taining. For the calm of the Vere de Veres they have a 

 decided contempt, but I notice that after our return they are 

 anxious to know whether our hosts regarded them as some new 

 and interesting species of humanity. 



We are fishing again by 1.30. It is very hot, and the sea 

 is full of what looks like small pieces of white fluff The tarpon 

 are not yet showing, but many of the incidents I have before 

 mentioned are taking place, and it is by no means dull. Two or 

 three small crabs come crawling along on the surface with the 

 assistance of their hind legs which are fitted with paddles. I pass 

 my line over the back of one which promptly grabs it, and holds 

 on till he drops in the boat. One of the ladies gets hung up in a 

 jew fish, with which she struggles manfully. Here goes my rod, 

 out goes the line, and I am certain I have the first tarpon of the 

 tide ; but he is rather long about showing himself and I get less 

 certain in inverse ratio with the seconds. After ten minutes the 

 fish is beat, and I haul into the boat a 4-foot king fish. A lovely 

 beast with his iridescent hues of blue, purple and white. He is 

 shaped like a huge mackerel, and his skin is of the same texture. 

 After all, I can understand the pleasure the epicureans of Rome 

 took in watching the changing colours of the dying fish, which 

 they were about to eat. The king fish has teeth set after the 

 manner of a crocodile, and is as game for his size as the tarpon, 

 with the exception that he confines his fight to the water. My 

 next catches are two or three groupers of 5 or 6 lbs. each, and a 



