The Kingfish 291 
during my visit a small fleet of boats would gather 
in the narrow pass and fish. Those who fished as 
a business had long bamboo poles which they kept 
moving up and down, landing a mackerel of small 
size every few minutes. I used a light black- 
bass rod, and baiting with shrimp, caught by a boy 
with a cast-net, enjoyed the sport, taking fishes 
from three to seven pounds; but the man with 
the fifteen-foot bamboo, with a short line tied to 
it, beat me ten to one, and gazed at my light tackle 
as the armament of a tenderfoot. While fishing 
here several skipjacks and a three-pound “ten- 
pounder” jumped into my boat at intervals of 
ten minutes; then an alligator gar rose alongside 
apparently anxious to emulate the small fry, while 
a speckled sting-ray hovered for a moment in the 
air like a bird, astern. These and schools of mul- 
lets, constantly leaping in silvery waves on all sides 
in the shallows, gave the impression that all the 
fishes in this peaceful region were jumpers; and 
there was consolation in the thought that if the 
fish did not bite, they might at least jump aboard, 
which was much the same thing if dinner, as well 
as sport, was to be considered. I have seen the 
Spanish mackerel in many waters, but these Texas 
fishes, with their black and vivid yellow or golden 
