THE LEAPING TUNA 



This was accepted, and as the whales had alarmed the ladies, 

 Mr. Doran started to take them in, promising to retm-n and tow 

 us in. For some time, in a rising sea, as we were now out in the 

 channel, I attempted to keep the boat stern to the tuna, while 

 the boatman reeled, or tried to reel. As Jim Gardner had not 

 made any headway he retired, and Mr. Scudder took the oars, 

 and I bent to the rod. 



Long before Mr. Scudder had, of course, given up any idea of 

 receiving any credit for the catch, as according to the rules of the 

 Tuna Club, the angler must have no assistance ; but we were all 

 confident that we had a colossus, and agreed to fight it out with 

 the rod. When I took the latter I could not move the fish an 

 inch by reeling, so I gave twenty feet of line and the boat was 

 moved ahead, I reeling quickly to start the fish, as, without 

 question, it was pointed head-down and swimming against us, 

 as a salmon will do. 



Hours passed until at six o'clock, twelve hours from the strike, , 

 we were twelve miles from Avalon, headed for the mainland. 

 Avalon was out of sight, the island began to grow dim, and it 

 was evident that Doran could not find us. There was no par- 

 ticular element of danger, though the boat was open — a common 

 yawl, but a seaworthy craft ; but the delights of passing the 

 night in a rough channel were not alluring, so we held a council 

 of war. 



Mr. Scudder evidently was tired out, though he did not 

 admit it. Jim looked as though he was worn to a ' frazzle,' to 

 quote General Gordon, but he declared he was fit for a week yet, 

 and that we could land the fish in the surf at San Juan Capis- 

 trano, about twenty miles distant, on the mainland. As I had 

 once been in that surf I did not enthuse. I was the freshest of the 

 crew as I came into it last, but I was, while extremely reticent 

 (to keep in line with my companions), well tired out, not being 

 accustomed to rowing by the hour in a seaway. It began to 

 grow dark ; the island looked like a purple tourmaline against a 

 field of the cloth of gold. We could just see Doran's launch 



105 



