The King of Half-Moon Bay 



rise and fall of his great gills, and I fancied I could 

 see the water tinged with red around his great, sav- 

 age yellow eyes. Then like a flash he snapped from 

 the lethargy and was gone again with the reel sing- 

 ing in my ears and the line mercilessly burning my 

 thumb. 



Not so easily was this King to be hauled uncere- 

 moniously into the boat. I could feel the springy 

 give of the slender line that connected me with my 

 prize as I strained it even past the point of prudence 

 to swing him toward the boat as he again sulked. 

 That fish was mine and I was determined to end it 

 all as soon as possible, for I had premonitions of the 

 hook working loose. Again I had him where he was 

 plainly visible, not a dozen feet from the boat, mo- 

 tionless, dogged, but with defiance in his eyes aye, 

 even contempt : 



Still closer I led him. I transferred the rod to my 

 left hand, and with thumb clamped on the reel spool 

 swung him toward the side of the boat. One clutch 

 of thumb and forefinger in his bony eye sockets and 

 my ambition would be realized. I reached toward 

 him. Smash. In a fury of foam he was gone, 

 and this time with dismay I saw that it was for the 

 weeds. The spool fairly seared my thumb as 1 

 vainly maneuvered to avoid the inevitable. Plainly I 

 felt the line cutting into the moss bed, then stick. 

 Something snapped. The rod straightened and the 



77 



