SOME RARE FISH 



Once more we composed ourselves to watch and 

 await developments. 



In the succeeding hour I had many of the peculiar 

 vibrations of my line, and, strange to see, every time 

 I reeled in, part of my bait or all of it was gone. 

 Still I fished on patiently for a bonefish bite. 



Meanwhile the sun lost its heat, slowly slanted to 

 the horizon of mangroves, and turned red. It was 

 about the hour of sunset and it turned out to be 

 a beautiful and memorable one. Not a breath of 

 air stirred. There was no sound except the screech 

 of a gull and the distant splashes of wading birds. 

 I had not before experienced silence on or near salt 

 water. The whole experience was new. We re- 

 marked that the tide had not seemed to rise any 

 higher. Everywhere were little swells, little waves, 

 little wakes, all made by bonefish. The sun sank 

 red and gold, and all the wide flat seemed on fire, 

 with little mangroves standing clear and dark against 

 the ruddy glow. And about this time the strangest 

 thing happened. It might have been going on before, 

 but Sam and I had not seen it. All around us were 

 bonefish tails lifted out of the water. They glistened 

 like silver. When a bonefish feeds his head is down 

 and his tail is up, and, the water being shallow, the 

 upper fluke of his tail stands out. If I saw one I 

 saw a thousand. It was particularly easy to see 

 them in the glassy water toward the sunset. 



A school of feeding bonefish came toward us. I 

 counted eleven tails out of the water. They were 

 around my bait. Now or never, I thought, waiting 

 frantically! But they went on feeding — passed over 

 my line — and came so near the boat that I could 



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