40 Big Game Fishes 
until a deep shadow took shape over it and a big 
dun-colored shark appeared upon the scene, pass- 
ing over the bait, then stopping as it caught the 
scent, driving away every living thing in and 
about that particular wreck. 
The lesson was not lost, and on the following 
day, with a fresh supply of “hard heads,” which 
Paublo cut down for me with his sabre, I again 
essayed the gray snappers. I fitted my light rod 
with a new and approved line and the long 
copper leader, then cast into the magic circle of 
the gray poseurs. As the bait touched the bottom 
I worked the line and leader into the sand, imitat- 
ing the methods of my sable mentor. It was 
now irresistible, and a large snapper moved at the 
lure, stopping as did the other, like a Mexican 
who rides full speed at a stone wall, turns on the 
instant and touches it deftly. I had witnessed 
the feat, and the rush and sudden halt of the 
snapper was a vivid imitation. Its movements 
were so forcible that the current of water partly 
turned the bait, which I could see from the high 
ledge of dead coral rock upon which I was stand- 
ing five or six feet above. Never was more cun- 
ning, more diplomacy, displayed. The fish was 
fascinated, but it swam over the wire a score of 
