The Unsociable Skip^Jack 219 



Sociability, in the sense that most of the pelagic 

 deep-sea fish have it, they do not possess, and although 

 large numbers of them are often seen at one time 

 they always preserve a certain individuality, an 

 aloofness from each other, like that of the dolphin. 

 As to accompanying a ship in the same way that 

 dolphin, albacore, and bonito will do, in varying 

 degrees of closeness of course, that will they never. 

 And yet they may — who knows — derive some sort 

 of satisfaction from being, as it were, within hail of 

 her. They are, more than any of the true pelagic 

 fish, independent vagabonds of the sea, roaming each 

 for himself whithersoever they list, and keeping their 

 family haunts enwrapped in deepest mystery. 



I remember with great saitsfaction, two occasions on 

 which, by the purest accident, I succeeded in catching 

 Skip-jack, and subsequently examining them closely. 

 I may say in passing, that they were the only Skip-jack 

 I ever did see caught, and must admit that the capture 

 was almost purely accidental. I had been fishing 

 for bonito almost unsuccessfully, having only caught 

 one, and the sudden tropical twilight fell before I was 

 aware of it. But the evening was so lovely, the d5dng 

 tints of the sunset so exquisitely tender, that I lingered 

 on my quiet perch, loth to leave the contemplation 

 of so much peaceful beauty. The line hung down 

 almost straight, the bait just clear of the water, and 

 occasionally I jerked it mechanically, my thoughts 

 far away. Suddenly I felt a tug at it, and a weight 

 upon it. Instantly called to present realities, I 

 hauled up swiftly, to find a Skip-jack upon the hook, 

 a fine specimen of about four and a half pounds, at 

 which I was mightily astonished, as were my shipmates 

 when I took him into the forecastle to show them. 

 The other occasion was at the front end of the 



