TALES OF FISHES 



angling can appreciate this hazardous, compHcated, 

 and laborsome job of the Lone Angler. Any one who 

 ever fought a big tuna or swordfish can imagine 

 where he would have been without a boatman. 

 After some of my fights with fish Captain Danielson 

 has been as tired as I was. His job had been as 

 hard as mine. But Wiborn goes out day by day 

 alone, and he has brought in big tuna and swordfish. 

 Not many! He is too fine a sportsman to bring 

 in many fish. 



And herein is the point I want to drive home in 

 my tribute to Lone Angler. No one can say how 

 many fish he catches. He never tells. Always he 

 has a fine, wonderful, beautiful day on the water. 

 It matters not to him, the bringing home of fish to 

 exhibit. This roused my admiration, and also my 

 suspicion. I got to believing that Lone Angler 

 caught many more fish than he ever brought home. 



So I spied upon him. Whenever chance afforded 

 I watched him through my powerful binoculars. He 

 was always busy. His swift boat roamed the seas. 

 Always he appeared a white dot on the blue horizon, 

 like the flash of a gull. I have watched his kite 

 flutter down; I have seen his boat stop and stand 

 still; I have seen sheeted splashes of water near 

 him; and more than once I have seen him leaning 

 back with bent rod, working and pumping hard. 

 But when he came into Avalon on these specific oc- 

 casions, he brought no tuna, no swordfish — nothing 

 but a cheerful, enigmatic smile and a hopefid ques- 

 tion as to the good luck of his friends. 



"But I saw you hauling away on a fish," I vent- 

 ured to say, once. 



264 



