The Gray Snapper 41 
times, turning to scrutinize it, and failing to see 
it, returning to the bait, swimming about it again 
and again, a picture of grace and buoyant life. 
Now it deliberately approached and nosed the 
lure, lifting the “hard heads” slightly as though 
searching for the hook; then it swam away, to 
my despair, and joined the complacent school 
which poised and circled gracefully near by. But 
a vigorous movement imparted to the line sum- 
moned the snapper again, and with a single low 
rush of eight or ten feet, it seized the bait, which 
it shook as might an angry dog, and rose slowly, 
with fins ex charge, while I overran the line. 
Higher it swam, rising slowly into the empyrean 
of the waters; then with a sudden gulp it at- 
tempted to swallow the bait, felt the wire, and 
charged the blue waters of the channel to the 
melody of the reel, that, like the baying hound 
on fresh scent, repays the hunter for hours of 
weary waiting. 
The rush was out and away into the deep blue 
heart of the channel, every other snapper disap- 
pearing at the charge; and fifty or sixty feet of 
line were lost before I stopped the fish. Then 
it was a battle to the finish, with finesse, cunning, 
and wariness on the part of the game. I appre- 
