48 HUNTING AND FISHING IN FLORIDA. és 
Never shall I forget the scene which followed. Never, if I catch a 
thousand of his kind, do I expect to see a more magnificent fight for 
freedom than that grand fish made in his struggles to rid himself of 
the barb within his jaws. Once, twice, four times he cast his whole 
length into the air in his mad struggles. The water foamed 
and boiled as he fell and sank, to almost immediately reappear, 
hurling himself high into the air, shaking his head as a dog shakes 
a rat, his blood-red gills showing in striking contrast to his gleaming 
silver body. As he sank for the fifth time the strain on the line 
ceased ; turning the reel, there was no resistance, and I heard a sigh 
from Will. 
“¢ He’s off; it can’t be helped; but wasn’t he a dandy? ” 
I said nothing, for I was sadly disappointed. To have had a fine 
tarpon hooked for fifteen minutes, and then to lose him was dis- 
THE LEAP OF THE TARPON. 
couraging ; but, as Will said, it could not be helped, and the only 
thing to do was to try for another. So, rowing back to our original 
position, we baited the hook with a fresh and enticing bait, and set- 
tled down quietly to wait. 
