The Yellowtail 141 
from sunrise to midday, on the flood-tide, and, as 
a rule, the angler finds smooth water, with ripples 
here and there breaking the surface, telling of 
vagrant schools of yellowtails or sea-bass. The 
water itself is a revelation; it has a splendid tint, 
dotted with living constellations of marvellous 
shapes and design: crystal chalices, jellies with 
fluted cometlike tails of maroon and deep lav- 
ender, while scattered about with a lavish hand 
are the gems of the sea, Sapphirine, flashing the 
tints of mimic rubies, emeralds, topazes, diamonds, 
and other gems. The angler must be callous 
indeed who is not charmed with this divertisse- 
ment, captivated with these beauties which, like 
sirens, claim his attention until arrested by the 
loud zeee-zeee! of the reel as it gives tongue 
behind the rush of his first yellowtail. A shrill 
staccato, and fifty, one hundred feet of line have 
perhaps gone before the novice presses the 
leather pad, with which all reels are equipped, 
and essays to arrest the fierce outward rush. At 
the first click the boatman stops the engine, and 
the yellowtail now tows the boat around, as it 
rushes here and there making battle so desper- 
ately that the angler is easily wearied. 
There is something so startling about the first 
