TALES OF FISHES 



out the line, and then when he rested I worked on 

 him to recover it. My idea was to keep a perpetual 

 strain upon him, 



I do not think I had even a hope of bringing this 

 fish to the boat. 



It was twelve o'clock exactly when I hooked him, 

 and a quarter of an hour sped by. My first big thrill 

 came when he leaped. This was a surprise. He 

 was fooling round, and then, all of a sudden, he 

 broke water clear. It was an awkward, ponderous 

 action, and looked as if he had come up backward, 

 like a bucking bronco. His size and his long, 

 sinister sword amazed me and frightened me. It 

 gave me a cold sensation to realize I was hooked to 

 a huge, dangerous fish. But that in itself was a 

 new kind of thrill. No boatman fears a Marlin as 

 he does the true broadbill swordfish. 



My second thrill came when the fish lunged on 

 the surface in a red foam. If I had hooked him so 

 he bled freely there was a chance to land him! 

 This approach to encouragement, however, was 

 short-lived. He went down, and if I had been 

 hooked to a submarine I could scarcely have felt 

 more helpless. He sounded about five hundred feet 

 and then sulked. I had the pleasant task of pump- 

 ing him up. This brought the sweat out upon me 

 and loosened me up. I began to fight him harder. 

 And it seemed that as I increased the strain he grew 

 stronger and a little more active. Still there was 

 not any difference in his tactics. I began to get a 

 conception of the vitality and endurance of a broad- 

 bill in contrast with the speed and savageness of 

 his brother fish, the Marlin, or roundbill. 



66 



