TWO FIGHTS WITH SWORDFISH 



Unbelievable as it was, there the knot in the end 

 of the short six feet of double line showed at the 

 surface. I pumped and I reeled inch by inch. 



A long dark object showed indistinctly, wavered 

 as the swells rose, then showed again. As I strained 

 at the rod so I strained my eyes. 



"I see the leader!" yelled Dan, in great excite- 

 ment. 



I saw it, too, and I spent the last ounce of strength 

 left in me. Up and up came the long, dark, vague 

 object. 



"You've got him licked!" exclaimed Dan. "Not 

 a wag left in him !" 



It did seem so. And that bewildering instant saw 

 the birth of assurance in me. I was going to get 

 him! That was a grand instant for a fisherman. 

 I could have lifted anything then. 



The swordfish became clear to my gaze. He was 

 a devilish-looking monster, two feet thick across the 

 back, twelve feet long over all, and he would have 

 weighed at the least over four hundred pounds. 

 And I had beaten him! That was there to be seen. 

 He had none of the beauty and color of the round- 

 bill swordfish. He was dark, almost black, with 

 huge dorsal and tail, and a wicked broad sword fully 

 four feet long. What terrified me was his enormous 

 size and the deadly look of him. I expected to see 

 him rush at the boat. 



Watching him thus, I reveled in my wonderful 



luck. Up to this date there had been only three of 



these rare fish caught in twenty-five years of Avalon 



fishing. And this one was far larger than those 



that had been taken. 



61 



