TALES OF FISHES 



with despair — these floating fish will not bite. We 

 circled over the place where he had gone down, 

 and I watched my bait rising and falling in the low 

 swells. 



Suddenly Captain Dan yelled and I saw a great 

 blaze of purple and silver green flashing after my 

 bait. It was the swordfish, and he took the bait 

 on the run. That was a moment for a fisherman! 

 I found it almost impossible to let him have enough 

 line. All that I remember about the hooking of him 

 was a tremendous shock. His first dash was ir- 

 resistibly powerful, and I had a sensation of the 

 absurdity of trying to stop a fish like that. Then 

 the line began to rise on the surface and to lengthen 

 in my sight, and I tried to control my rapture and 

 fear enough to be able to see him clearly when he 

 leaped. The water split, and up he shot — a huge, 

 gUttering, savage, beautiful creature, all purple and 

 opal in the sunlight. He did not get all the way 

 out of the water, but when he dropped back he made 

 the water roar. 



Then, tearing off line, he was out of the water in 

 similar leaps — seven times more. Captain Dan had 

 his work cut out for him as well as I had mine. It 

 was utterly impossible to keep a tight line, and when 

 I felt the slacking of weight I grew numb and sick 

 — thinking he was gone. But he suddenly straight- 

 ened the line with a jerk that lifted me, and he 

 started inshore. He had about four hundred feet 

 of line out, and more slipping out as if the drag was 

 not there. Captain Dan headed the boat after him 

 at full speed. Then followed a most thrilling race. 

 It was over very quickly, but it seemed an age. 



