FLORIDA AND THE WEST INDIES 127 



biggest tarpon ever caught. Alas ! a minute goes 

 by ; two ; and now we know that, whatever it may 

 be, this is no tarpon. Then a strange thing 

 happens. The fish makes no attempt to get line 

 off the reel. Great souls suffer in silence, and this 

 one is singularly undemonstrative. But the boat 

 moves off steadily through the water, heading for 

 the opposite shore. The fish takes us in tow at 

 this same steady pace for an hour for two. First 

 t heads for the open sea, which is fortunately in its 

 calmest mood, and gets us clear of the Pass. 

 There is something so grim about the whole 

 performance that I cannot, for all my annoyance, 

 help laughing at the nonchalant way in which 

 Underhill has shipped his oars, crossed his legs and 

 lighted one of my cigars, looking the picture of 

 uncomplaining ease, as he declares that he has no 

 use for honest toil so long as he can earn his pay 

 like a gentleman. 



There is no longer any doubt in our minds as to 

 the identity of the Unseen : it must be a shark, and 

 a great shark at that. Suddenly, without warning, 

 it turns abruptly up the Pass and tows us past the 

 Quarantine station. Twice only during the first 

 ninety minutes does it pull line off the reel, twenty 

 feet or so at a time, irresistibly, but without greed. 

 By this time we are nearly a mile from the nearest 

 of the other boats, and the whole fleet is watching 

 our eccentric voyage with great interest, timing us, 

 calculating our slow but steady pace, and generally 

 basking in the luxury of watching another in diffi- 

 culties. Towards the close of the second hour, 

 without any sign of relenting on the part of the 

 shark, I suddenly tire of this aimless gliding through 



