TALES OF FISHES 



R. C.'s line was sweeping over mine, I thought best 

 to reel in. 



"Hook him now!" I yelled. 



I surely did shiver at the way my brother came 

 up with that light tackle. But he hooked the sail- 

 fish, and nothing broke. Then came a big white 

 splash on the surface, but no sign of the fish. R. 

 C.'s line sagged down. 



"Look out ! Wind in ! He's coming at us !" I called. 



"He's off!" replied my brother. 



That might well have been, but, as I expected, 

 he was not. He broke water on a slack line and 

 showed us all his dripping, colorful body nearer than 

 a hundred feet, R. C. thereupon performed with 

 incredible speed at the reel and quickly had a tight 

 line. Mr. Sailfish did not like that. He slid out, 

 wrathfuUy wagging his bill, and left a seamy, foamy 

 track behind him, finally to end that play with a 

 splendid long leap. He was headed away from us 

 now, with two hundred yards of line out, going hard 

 and fast, and we had to follow him. We had a^fine 

 straightaway run to recover the line. This was a 

 thrilling chase, and one, I think, we never would 

 have had if R. C. had been using heavy tackle. 

 The sailfish led us out half a mile before he sounded. 



Then in fifteen minutes more R. C. had him up 

 where we could see his purple and bronze colors and 

 the strange, triangular form of him, which peculiar 

 shapfe came mostly from the waving sail. I thought 

 I saw other shapes and colors with him, and bent 

 over the gunwale to see better. 



"He's got company. Two sharks! — ^You want to 

 do some quick work now or good-by sailfish!" 



92 



