TALES OF FISHES 



"Lift him! Closer!" called Captain Dan. "In 

 two minutes I'll have a ga£P in him!" 



I made a last effort. Dan reached for the leader. 



Then the hook tore out. 



My swordfish, without a movement of tail or fin, 

 slowly sank — ^to vanish in the blue water. 



After resting my blistered hands for three days, 

 which time was scarcely long enough to heal them, 

 I could not resist the call of the sea. 



We went off Seal Rocks and trolled about five 

 miles out. We met a sand-dabber who said he had 

 seen a big broadbill back a ways. So we turned 

 round. After a while I saw a big. vicious splash 

 half a mile east, and we made for it. Then I soon 

 espied the fish. 



We worked around him awhile, but he would 

 not take a barracuda or a flying-fish. 



It was hard to keep track of him, on account of 

 rough water. Soon he went down. 



Then a little later I saw what Dan called a Marlin. 

 He had big fiippers, wide apart. I took him for a 

 broadbill. 



We circled him, and before he saw a bait he leaped 

 twice, coming about half out, with belly toward us. 

 He looked huge, but just how big it was impossible 

 to say. 



After a while he came up, and we circled him. As 

 the bait drifted round before him— twenty yards 

 or more off — he gave that little wiggle of the tail 

 sickle, and went under. I waited. I had given 

 up hope when I felt him hit the bait. Then he ran 

 off, pretty fast. I let him have a long line. Then 



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