BIG TUNA 



ings because I had never had such an experience 

 before. Nor had I ever heard or read of any one 

 having it. 



We got a bait on and the kite out just in time to 

 reach the first and larger school. I was so excited 

 that I did not see we were heading right into it. 

 My intent gaze was riveted upon my bait as it 

 skimmed the surface. The swells were long, low, 

 smooth mounds. My bait went out of sight behind 

 one. It was then I saw water fly high and I 

 felt a tug. I jerked so hard I nearly fell over. My 

 bait shot over the top of the swell. Then that swell 

 opened and burst — a bronze back appeared. He 

 missed the hook. Another tuna, also missing, 

 leaped into the air — a fish of one hundred and fifty 

 pounds, glittering green and silver and blue, jaws 

 open, fins stiff, tail quivering, clear and clean-cut 

 above the surface. Again we all yelled. Actually 

 before he fell there was another smash and another 

 tuna had my bait. This one I hooked. His rush 

 was irresistible. I released the drag on the reel. 

 It whirled and whizzed. The line threw a fine spray 

 into my face. Then the tip of my rod flew up with 

 a jerk, the line slacked. We all knew what that 

 meant. I reeled in. The line had broken above the 

 few feet of double line which we always used next 

 the leader. More than ever disaster loomed over 

 me. The feeling was unshakable now. 



Nevertheless, I realized that wonderful good fort- 

 une attended us in the fact that the school of big 

 tuna had scarcely any noticeable fear of the boat; 

 they would not stay down, and they were ravenous. 



On our next run down upon them I had a smashing 



233 



