PART II 



TARPON-FISHING AND OTHER 

 SPORT 



THE GLAMOUR OF TARPON-FISHING 



Blaze of sun, shimmer of moon, pall of blackest 

 nightjewelled only with the cold fires of Southern 

 stars, the fighting spirit of the great tarpon can 

 generally be roused, and the king of all the 

 herrings is game to the death against all comers 

 at any hour of the twenty-four. 



If, as compared with some other struggles in 

 the angler's record of carnage, the issue is short, 

 not the fish is to blame, for he prolongs the battle 

 to finite possibilities, but the fault lies with the 

 ruthless mechanism brought to bear on his defeat. 

 American sporting methods, though differing in 

 some view-points from those of England, are on 

 the whole quite sound, and it is no disparagement 

 of them to say that, short of electrocution, all the 

 resources of an eminently mechanical and inventive 

 nation have been employed against the big-finned 

 game of either seaboard — against the tarpon on the 

 east side, and against the yellowtail and tuna on 

 the west. The rod is powerful enough to hold a 

 shark fourteen feet long for upwards of two hours, 



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