The Tarpon 249 
caught the sun’s rays, a blaze of silver, and before 
the boatman could whirl the skiff about I saw it 
gleaming in the sunlight over my shoulder, high 
in air again; then, despite my pressure on the 
rubber brake, it was away, fifty, a hundred feet, 
literally to rise into the empyrean like a bird 
again and again, and with wide-open gills en- 
deavor to throw the deadly hook from its jaws. 
While I was trolling, ten-pounders, here called 
skipjacks, were darting into the air, their leaps 
being very similar to those of the crazed tarpons. 
For fifteen minutes or more this gamy creature 
fought and leaped, then coming to gaff with vigor- 
ous protest, and was only landed in the skiff after 
great difficulty, though only five feet three inches 
in length. 
Having taken all the tarpons I desired, I 
devoted my time to observations of the vaulting 
feats of this gallant and spectacular fish. Those 
who have read the lines on tuna jumping will, 
perhaps, have noticed my reticence, as I realize 
how easily one may be mistaken; and in the case 
of the tarpon I have the same hesitation, yet fear 
I may do injustice to this marvellous jumper if I 
do not refer to it. I was particularly desirous 
to determine the effect of the side swing of the 
