74 FISHES I HAVE KNOWN 



towards him, her cut-water pushing the waves on 

 one side as she triumphantly sails on her course. 



He has a not too long cod-line, a stout conger- 

 hook baited with a strip of white bunting or linen, 

 or, better still, with a piece of salt-pork skin, cut so 

 as to roughly represent a small fish. Describing a 

 curve with his line, he occasionally, with a jerk, lets 

 it dip into the crest of the approaching waves. 

 Suddenly a guileless dolphin makes a dexterous 

 spring at the lure and hooks itself, when lo ! the 

 ocean angler has a fish weighing perhaps forty 

 pounds, dangling at the end of his line, the ship, as 

 she rushes along, dragging the whole affair at a 

 sharp angle beneath him. 



The fish struggles violently, but the fisherman 

 steadily hauls. The thin spar vibrates, and then 

 the fisherman appreciates the advantage of being 

 well lashed. It is an exhausting and difficult 

 business getting the " catch " on to the deck. An 

 expert always has with him a sack or big basket, 

 which he fixes so that he can plump the dolphin 

 into it as soon as it is hauled up. In this wa\' he 

 can, unaided, eventually make a large bag. 



For the second method, the best lure is a newly 

 caught flying-fish ; failing that, an imitation one, 

 a stout spoon-bait, or the largest and gaudiest 

 salmon-fly procurable. When the ship is going at 



