ae Big Game Fishes 
shallow water, where we could feast our eyes on 
its every move. Its bearing off was splendid, 
and so powerful was the fish that only the oars- 
man kept it from going out to sea with skiff and 
men. Slowly it came in, now stopping, beat- 
ing the water; now dashing off with all the 
line gained by strenuous endeavor, shaking its 
bulky head and every second testing line, rod, 
and angler. There was no Timoleon in that 
dancing, whirling craft, to boast of his luck and 
see it take wings, but three men in good luck, 
who finally saw the great fish come slowly to the 
gaff. It circled the boat to the last, and was 
gaffed, bearing off heavily, bending the slender 
rod into a bow as it passed the gaffer, still vigor- 
ous and full of fight, beating the water with its 
big tail, hurling the foam over us, literally toss- 
ing defiance in our faces as I unreeled the line 
to permit the gaffer to slide it in, blazing in all 
the colors of its kind, as he held it up a moment 
that we might look upon its splendid proportions. 
The actual weight of this fish was fifty-two 
pounds several hours after the capture, and the 
time occupied in its undoing was nearly half an 
hour. The bass as it lay on the canvas fish-bag 
was a picture for an artist; nearly four feet long, 
