TWO FIGHTS WITH SWORDFISH 



had heard about these fish, I did not anticipate 

 getting a strike from him. 



We circled him and drew the flying-fish bait so 

 that he would swim near it. As it was, I had to 

 reel in some. Presently we had the bait some 

 twenty yards ahead of him. Then Captain Dan 

 slowed down. The broadbill wiggled his tail and 

 slid out of sight. Dan said he was going for my 

 bait. But I did not believe so. Several moments 

 passed. I had given up any little hope I might 

 have had when I received a quick, strong, vibrating 

 strike — different from any I had ever experienced. 

 I suppose the strangeness was due to the shock he 

 gave my line when he struck the bait with his sword. 

 The line paid out unsteadily and slowly. I looked 

 at Dan and he looked at me. Neither of us was 

 excited nor particularly elated. I guess I did not 

 realize what was actually going on. 



I let him have about one hundred and fifty feet 

 of line. 



When I sat down to jam the rod-butt in the 

 socket I had awakened to possibilities. Throwing 

 on the drag and winding in until my line was taut, 

 I struck hard — four times. He made impossible any 

 more attempts at this by starting off on a heavy, 

 irresistible rush. But he was not fast, or so it seemed 

 to me. He did not get more than four hundred feet 

 of line before we ran up on him. Presently he 

 came to the surface to thresh around. He did not 

 appear scared or angry. Probably he was annoyed 

 at the pricking of the hook. But he kept moving, 

 sometimes on the surface and sometimes beneath. 

 I did not fight him hard, preferring to let him pull 



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