TALES OF FISHES 



The fight was on. 



For a while he circled the boat and it was impos- 

 sible to naove him a foot. He was about two hun- 

 dred and fifty yards from us. Every once in a while 

 he would come up. His sword would appear first, 

 a most extraordinary sight as it pierced the water. 

 We could hear the swish. Once he leaped half out. 

 We missed this picture. I kept a steady, hard strain 

 on him, pumping now and then, getting a little line 

 in, which he always got back. The first hour passed 

 swiftly with this surface fight alternating with his 

 slow heavy work down. However, he did not sound. 



About eleven forty-five he leaped clear out, and 

 we snapped two pictures of him. It was a fierce 

 effort to free the hook, a leap not beautiful and 

 graceful, like that of the Marlin, but magnificent 

 and dogged. 



After this leap he changed his tactics. Repeated- 

 ly I was pulled forward and lifted from my seat by 

 sudden violent jerks. They grew more frequent 

 and harder. He came up and we saw how he did 

 that. He was facing the boat and batting the 

 leader with his sword. This was the most remark- 

 able action I ever observed in a fighting fish. That 

 sword was a weapon. I could hear it hit the leader. 

 But he did most of this work under the surface. 

 Every time he hit the leader it seemed likely to 

 crack my neck. The rod bent, then the line slack- 

 ened so I could feel no weight, the rod flew straight. 

 I had an instant of palpitating dread, feeling he had 

 freed himself---then harder came the irresistible, 

 heavy drag again. This batting of the leader and 

 consequent slacking of the line worried Dan, as it 



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