SAILFISH 



It was eight o'clock. I had two sailfish in the 

 boat and had fought two besides. And at that time 

 I sighted the first fishing-boat coming out toward 

 the reef. Before that boat got out near us I had 

 struck and lost three more sailfish, with eleven leaps 

 in all to my credit. This boatman had followed 

 Sam and me the day before and he appeared to be 

 bent upon repeating himself. I thought I would 

 rather enjoy that, because he had two inexperienced 

 anglers aboard, and they, in the midst of a school 

 of striking sailfish, would be sure to afford some fun. 

 Three other boats came out across the reef, ventured 

 a little way in the Gulf Stream, and then went back 

 to grouper and barracuda. But that one boatman, 

 B., stuck to us. And right away things began to 

 happen to his anglers. No one so lucky in strikes 

 as a green hand! I saw them get nine strikes with- 

 out hooking a fish. And there appeared to be a tur- 

 moil on board that boat. I saw B. tearing his hair 

 and the fishermen frantically jerking, and then 

 waving rods and arms. Much as I enjoyed it, Sam 

 enjoyed it more. But I was not mean enough to 

 begrudge them a fish and believed that sooner or 

 later they would catch one. 



Presently, when B.'s boat was just right for his 

 anglers to see everything my way, I felt a tug on 

 my line. I leaped up, let the reel run. Then I 

 threw on my drag and leaned over to strike. But 

 he let go. Quickly I threw off the drag. The sail- 

 fish came back. Another tug! I let him run. 

 Then threw on the drag and got ready. But, no, 

 he let go. Again I threw off the drag and again he 

 came back. He was hungry, but he was cunning, 



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