THE GLADIATOR OF THE SEA 



gazed at them longingly, in despair, as unattainable. 

 I knew of nothing in the fishing game as tantalizing 

 and despairing as this sight. 



We got rather near him this time, as he turned, 

 facing us, and slowly swam in the direction of my 

 bait. I could see the barracuda shining astern. Dan 

 stopped the boat. I slowly let out line. The sword- 

 fish drifted back, and then sank. 



I waited, intensely, but really without hope. 

 And I watched my bait until it sank out of sight. 

 Then followed what seemed a long wait. Probably 

 it was really only a few moments. I had a sort of 

 hopeless feeling. But I respected the fish all the 

 more. 



Then suddenly I felt a quiver of my line, as if an 

 electric current had animated it. I was shocked 

 keen and thrilling. My line whipped up and ran out. 



"He's got it!" I called, tensely. That was a 

 strong, stirring instant as with fascinated eyes I 

 watched the line pass swiftly and steadily off the 

 reel. I let him run a long way. 



Then I sat down, jammed the rod in the socket, 

 put on the drag, and began to strike. The second 

 powerful sweep of the rod brought the line tight 

 and I felt that heavy live weight. I struck at least a 

 dozen times with all my might while the line was 

 going off the reel. The swordfish was moving pon- 

 derously. Presently he came up with a great splash, 

 showing his huge fins, and then the dark, slender, 

 sweeping sword. He waved that sword, striking 

 fiercely at the leader. Then he went down. It was 

 only at this moment I realized I had again hooked 

 a broadbill. Time, ten forty-five. 



189 



