TALES OF FISHES 



sweep I hit one of the barracuda on the head. jWhen 

 I reached over again the largest one was contending 

 with a smaller one for the remains of the bonita. I 

 made a vicious pass at the big one, missing him. 

 Quick as I was, before I could get back, the big fel- 

 low had taken the head of the bonita and rushed off 

 with it, tearing the line out of the captain's hands. 

 Then we looked at one another. It had all hap- 

 pened in a minute. We were all wringing wet and 

 panting from excitement and exertion. This is a 

 gruesome tale of the sea and I put it here only to 

 illustrate the incomparable savageness of these 

 tigers of the Gulf Stream. 



The captain put the fish away and cleaned up the 

 boat and we resumed fishing. I ate lunch holding 

 the rod in one hand, loath to waste any time on this 

 wonderful day. Sailfish were still jumping here and 

 there and far away. The next thing to happen was 

 that R. C. hooked a small kingfish, and at the same 

 instant a big one came clear out in an unsuccessful 

 effort to get my bait. This happened to be near 

 the reef, and as we were going out I hooked a big 

 grouper that tried out my small tackle for all it was 

 worth. But I managed to keep him from getting 

 on the bottom, and at length brought him in. The 

 little six-ounce tip now looked like a buggy-whip 

 that was old and worn out. After that nothing hap- 

 pened for quite a little spell. We had opportunity 

 to get rested. Presently R. C. had a sailfish tap his 

 bait and tap it again and tug at it and then take 

 hold and start away. R. C. hooked him and did 

 it carefully, trying not to put too much strain on 

 the line. Here is where great skill is required. 



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