GULF STREAM FISHING 



A small gray shark and a huge yellow shark were 

 coming up with our quarry. R. C. said things, and 

 pulled hard on the light tackle. I got hold of the 

 leader and drew the sailfish close to the boat. He 

 began to thresh, and the big shark came with a 

 rush. Instinctively I let go of the leader, which 

 action was a blunder. The sailfish saw the shark 

 and, waking up, he fought a good deal harder than 

 before the sharks appeared upon the scene. He 

 took oflf hne, and got so far away that I gave up 

 any hope that the sharks might not get him. There 

 was a heavy commotion out in the waters The 

 shark had made a rush. So had the sailfish, and he 

 came right back to the boat. R. C. reeled in 

 swiftly. 



"Hold him hard now!" I admonished, and I leaped 

 up on the stern. The sailfish sheered round on the 

 surface, with tail and bill out, while the shark swam 

 about five feet under him. He was a shovel-nosed, 

 big-finned yellow shark, weighing about five hun- 

 dred pounds. He saw me. I waved my hat at 

 him, but he did not mind that. He swam up toward 

 the surface and his prey. R. C. was now handling 

 the light tackle pretty roughly. It is really remark- 

 able what can be done with nine-thread. In another 

 moment we would have lost the sailfish. The boat- 

 man brought my rifle and a shot scared the shark 

 away. Then we got the sailfish into the boat. He 

 was a beautiful specimen for mounting, weighing 

 forty-five pounds, the first my brother had taken. 



After that we had several strikes, but not one of 

 them was what I could call a hungry, smashing 

 strike. These sailfish are finicky biters. I had one 



