BIG TUNA 



and swollen, almost raw. I asked Dan for the har- 

 ness, but he was loath to put it on because he was 

 afraid I would break the fish off. So I worked on 

 and on, with spurts of fury and periods of lagging. 



At the end of three hours I was in bad condition. 

 I had saved a little strength for the finish, but I 

 was in danger of using that up before the crucial 

 moment arrived. Dan had to put the harness on 

 me. I knew afterward that it saved the day. By 

 the aid of the harness, putting my shoulders into the 

 lift, I got the double line over the reel, only to lose 

 it. Every time the tuna was pulled near the boat 

 he sheered off, and it did not appear possible for me 

 to prevent it. He got into a habit of coming to the 

 surface about thirty feet out, and hanging there, in 

 plain sight, as if he was cabled to the rocks of the 

 ocean. Watching him only augmented my trouble. 

 It had ceased long ago to be fun or sport or game. 

 It was now a fight and it began to be torture. My 

 hands were all blisters, my thumbs raw. The re- 

 spect I had for that tuna was great. 



He plugged down mostly, but latterly he began to 

 run off to each side, to come to the surface, showing 

 his broad green-silver side, and then he weaved to 

 and fro behind the boat, trying to get under it. 

 Captain Dan would have to run ahead to keep away 

 from him. To hold what gain I had on the tuna 

 was at these periods almost unendurable. Where 

 before I had sweat, burned, throbbed, and ached, I 

 now began to see red, to grow dizzy, to suffer cramps 

 and nausea and exceeding pain. 



Three hours and a half showed the tuna slower, 

 heavier, higher, easier. He had taken us fifteen 



247 



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