THE ROYAL PURPLE GAME OF THE SEA 



boat turned. The swordfish, tired out and uncon- 

 scious of freedom, was floating near the surface, a 

 drifting blaze of purple. The boat sheered close to 

 him. Captain Dan reached over with a gaff — and 

 all but gaffed that swordfish before he sank too 

 deep. Captain Dan was white with disappoint- 

 ment. That more than anything showed me his 

 earnestness, what it all meant to him. 



On the way in, for we had been led out a couple 

 of miles, I saw a blue streak after my bait, and I 

 was ready before the swordfish got to it. He struck 

 viciously and I dared not let him have much Hne. 

 When I hooked him he started out to sea at a clip 

 that smoked the line off my reel. Captain Dan got 

 the boat turned before the swordfish began to leap. 

 Then it was almost a straightaway race. This fel- 

 low was a greyhound leaper. He did not churn 

 the water, nor dash to and fro on the surface, but 

 kept steadily leaping ahead. He cleared the water 

 thirty-nine times before he gave up leaping. Then 

 he sounded. The line went slack. I thought he 

 was gone. Suddenly he showed again, in a white 

 splash, and he was not half as far away as when he 

 went down. Then I felt the pull on the line. It 

 was heavy, for he had left a great bag in it. I en- 

 deavored to recover Une, but it came in very slowly. 

 The swordfish then threshed on the surface so that 

 we could hear the water crack. But he did not leap 

 again. He had gone mad with rage. He seemed 

 to have no sense of direction. He went down again, 

 only to rush up, still closer to us. Then it was 

 plain he saw the nature of his foe. Splitting water 

 like a swift motor-boat, he charged us., 



51 



