SEVEN MAELIN SWORDFISH IN ONE DAY 



Only twice before had I heard him say that, and 

 he was right each time. I gazed abroad over the 

 beautiful sea, and, though I could not see any 

 swordfish, somehow I believed him. It was difficult 

 now, in this exciting zest of a record feat, to think 

 of the nobler attributes of fishing. . Strong, earnest, 

 thrilling business it was indeed for Captain Dan. 



We all expected to see a swordfish again. That 

 was exactly what happened. We had not gone a 

 dozen boat-lengths when up out of the blue depths 

 lunged a lazy swordfish and attached himself to 

 R. C.'s hook. He sort of half loUed out in lazy 

 splashes four or five times. He looked huge. All of 

 a sudden he started off, making the reel hum. That 

 run developed swiftly. Dan backed the boat full 

 speed. In vain! It was too late to turn. That 

 swordfish run became the swiftest and hardest I 

 ever saw. A four-hundred-yard run, all at once, was 

 something new even for me. I yelled for R. C. to 

 throw off the drag. He tried, but failed. I doubted 

 afterward if that would have done any good. That 

 swordfish was going away from there. He broke 

 the line. 



"Gee! What a run!" I burst out. "I'm sorry. 

 I hate to break off hooks in fish." 



"Put your hand on my reel," said R. C. 



It was almost too hot to bear touching. R. C. 

 began winding in the long slack line. 



"Did you see that one?" he asked, grimly. 



"Not plain. But what I did see looked big." 



"Say, he was a whale!" R. C.'s flashing eyes 

 showed he had warmed to the battle. 



In just ten minutes another swordfish was chasing 



207 



