TALES OF FISHES 



to the school out of which the strike had been gotten. 

 Captain Dan stood up to take a good look. 



"They're hundred-pounders, all right," he said. 

 "But they're not as big as the tuna in those two 

 leading schools. I'm glad those ginks in that boat 

 are tied up with a tuna for a spell." 



I took a look at the fisherman who was fighting 

 the tuna. Certainly I did not begrudge him one, 

 but somehow, so strange are the feelings of a fisher- 

 man that I was mightily pleased to see that he was 

 a novice at the game, was having his troubles, and 

 would no doubt be a long, long time landing his 

 tuna. My blood ran cold at the thought of other 

 anglers appearing on the scene, and anxiously I 

 scanned the horizon. No boat in sight! If I had 

 only known then what sad experience taught me that 

 afternoon I would have been tickled to pieces to see 

 all the great fishermen of Avalon tackle this school 

 of big tuna. 



Captain Dan got a kite up a little better than I 

 had hoped for. It was not good, but it was worth 

 trying. My bait, even on a turn of the boat, skipped 

 along just at the edge of the wake of the boat. 

 And the wake of a boat will almost always put a 

 school of tuna down. 



We headed for the second school. My thrilling 

 expectancy was tinged and spoiled with doubt. I 

 skipped my bait in imitation of a fiying-fish leaping 

 and splashing along. We reached the outer edge 

 of the school. Slowly the little boils smoothed out. 

 Slowly the big fins sank. So did my heart. We 

 passed the school. They all sank. And then when 

 Captain Dan swore and I gave up there came a 



230 



