BORE Sas AND STREAM. 
[Marcu 3, 1906. 

Lassoing a Man-Eater. 
I spent a February in Nassau, New Provi- 
dence, with two most congenial companions. 
While I am not much given to keeping an 
elaborate diary, still I could not refrain on this 
occasion from making a few notes of the events 
of each day. The following is just as it was 
written at the time and is merely a note book 
jotting: 
“Johnson, what is that dark object between 
us and the lighthouse?” I asked as something 
caught my eye bobbing up and down on the 
waves. 
“That, sir, is a dead cow, sir; they towed it 
out from Nassau this morning, sir, and it won't 
be long before the sharks have it eaten up, too, 
sir.’ 
Sure enough, scartely ny were the words out of 
our skipper’s mouth before I saw a black fin 
slowly glide around the floating carcass, then a 
flap of a great tail out of water, and we could 
see the man-eater at his breakfast. 
“Quick! Johnson. Steer for it.” 
Nearer we came, and standing on the boat’s 
thwart, I counted seven sharks, some feeding, 
some circling about and others fighting; at least 
they seemed to be quarreling over the choice 
morsel that had fallen into their jaws. Oh, for 
a gun, revolver, or even a large hook of some 
kind. Here was a chance to gratify a long- 
cherished wish. How many times the Judge 
had said: ‘I don’t take any stock in this fish- 
ing for salt-water fish with a long hand line 
over the side of a boat, but I would like to catch 
a shark.” Now here was just the opportunity 
and we had nary a thing to make the capture 
with. By this time we had made the carcass 
fast to the boat’s stern with a light line, and 
the anchor had been dropped to prevent our 
being carried out by the tide. We sat in 
silence and watched these tigers of the deep for 
perhaps an hour. By that time they had eaten 
the entire head and a. large part of the body. 
They seemed to care not a bit for us, now rub- 
bing against the frail boat’s sides, again dashing 
with head out of water clear on top of the cow. 
Some of them were monsters fully fourteen feet 
long, others were not more than one-half that 
length. The little fellows would watch their 
chance, when the big ones had taken their bite 
and retired, to rush in, make a grab and scoot, 
and all this time we sat and looked on and could 
do nothing. Once the Judge remarked: 
“Billy, you have the reputation of always be- 
ing loaded, or at least carrying a shooting-iron. 
Now I am sorry to be disappointed in you.” 
“Frequently a man has a tough reputation, 
Judge,” I replied, “but he is the victim of cir- 
cumstances. 
tough, but I am not the cowboy in every sense 
of the word, though I get the discredit of it.” 
At first we were rather afraid of the great 
jaws and wicked eyes, but the old saying, 
“familiarity breeds contempt,’ was again. illus- 
trated. I picked up a small sponge hook such 
- as the sponge hookers of these islands use in 
bringing up sponges from the bottom. ‘The staff 
was broken, so it was only four or five feet 
long, but it was strong enough to hit one a 
smart rap on the head with, and after rapping 
a few of them I had the monsters well stirred 
up. ee ie 
I had spent a winter on a cattle ranch in 
Texas some years ‘before and there learned to 
throw the lasso, and the thought came to mie 
that I might rope a shark. They had no horns 
certainly to throw the rope over, but I once 
could pick up a steer’s foot when said steer was 
under tolerably fair headway, and why not get 
a noose around a shark? 
The wind had nearly died out. Nassau lay two 
or three miles to the southward, as sunny and 
white as always. Had there been breeze enough 
we would have anchored the defunct bossy and 
sailed to the town so near and yet so far, and 
got a gun or spear, and returned and filled the 
boat with sharks. But, of course, the wind had 
failed us, besides we would in all likelihood have 
found the cow very much wasted upon our re- 
turn. 
I took the main sheet, fastened one end to 
Now I will admit I look hard and 
SEL Gats. 
the mast and quickly made a noose in the other. 
I noticed that a number of the sharks came at 
a good speed, and as they neared the cutter they 
would turn nearly belly up, and grab a chunk 
from the under side. If it was readily detached 
they would grab again for a fresh hold and fre- 
quently would lift the entire body nearly clear 
from the water. 
I knew it would be no use to try one of these 
under-handed chaps, but waited for one to 
tackle the outside hold. I had not long to wait. 
Some ten or fifteen rods away I saw one com- 
ing that I knew meant business. There was a 
sort of a ten-pounds-of-round-steak-and-give-it- 
to-me-quick expression about his countenance 
that I particularly liked. He was not as large 
as some of them, but would do for a starter. 
On he came, with no bashfulness or diffidence 
noticeable, and dropped his jaw or else raised 
his head and left the lower jaw where it was, I 
cannot say which, as I was becoming just a 
trifle excited. At any rate, about the time he 
had his head nearly two feet out of water and 
had made up his mind to grab right then, the 
rope was thrown and, as good luck would have 
it, struck in the proper place, and his head was 
well in it as I straightened it out with a good 
strong jerk; the noose tightened eight or ten 
inches behind his gills and then the fun com- 
menced, also the excitement. Just imagine you 
were there. I yelled as the rope fetched up with 
a savage yank that seemed about to take tne 
mast out of the craft, but it did the business, as 
it tightened it so that Mr. Shark had no other 
wind than that tied up in him. He pitched, 
tugged, plunged, twisted, reared, snorted and 
squirmed. He didn’t skip a note, and after he 
had finished all of these commonplace ma- 
neuvers, he put in a few on his own hook (this 
is not a pun). Though the rope was fastened 
to the mast near the center of the boat, the 
terrific exertions of the choking shark sent us 
whirling in every direction. After awhile he 
began to show signs of having enough of every- 
thing except stale air and strength, and as he 
quieted down we pulled him alongside and be- 
labored his head with a club and I out with my 
knife and stuck it into him where I thought it 
would do the most good. He gave up completely. 
I think the life was choked out of him. With a 
strong pull and a pull all together we brought 
him over the side and into the boat. We did 
not care to be on too familiar terms with him 
at first, as he might have been playing possum 
and come to, and one swish of that tail would 
have taken us off our pins. 
After the deed was done, we shook hands, the 
Judge and I, and thought how we could crow 
over Jack, who, as usual, was afraid it was go- 
ing to blow and had us put him ashore that 
morning after we had started. Our next move 
was for shore, to glory over our fellow men. 
“Now, Johnson, let go that bovine remnant, up 
anchor and for Nassau. This beats ‘groupers.’ 
No such fishing have they had here this winter.” 
The light breeze slowly fills the sail, and we 
glide toward the town, and all impatience, whistle 
for a stronger puff, but whistling don’t always 
bring it, so we had to wait. It seemed as though 
we would never reach the stone steps marked 
by the flagstaff in the distance, but without 
manwv more tacks we are there. Jumping ashore, 
a darkey is sent after a donkey cart, and the 
loungers always found in the wharf lend a willing 
hand—accepting the pennies, of course—to haul 
the captive ashore and onto the cart. Then the 
triumphal march begins. It is led by the Judge 
and myself, arm in arm, followed by the sleepy 
burro, drawing the cart, on which was laid the 
eleven feet and eight inches of shark; and as 
the papers say, “citizens on foot brought up the 
said citizens consisting of a string ot 
twenty or thirty negroes in usual Nassau winter 
costumes, i. e., pants, part of a shirt and a hat. 
We proceeded up the narrow street into the 
hotel yard, and halt at the doorway of the Royal 
Victoria, unload the freight on the greensward 
beneath the “gumber limber tree, sah.” 
We are the heroes of the season, as we 
modestly related the story of the shark. I let 
the Judge tell it, his reputation for truth being 
better than mine. Johnson and the dead fish 
verify his statement and no impertinent ques- 
tions are asked. But where is Jack? The Judge 
intimated that he is probably in the shade keep- 
ing his “skin from cracking.” We easily found 
him and. dragged him forth. 
“Jack,” said the Judge, “what kind of fish do 
they catch here?’ Without a moment’s hesita- 
tion he named the same old string that we had 
heard from every darkey on the island trom 
one to six times. ‘‘Margate fish, hamlet fish, 
mutton fish, yellow snapper, runner, grunt, 
hind,” and ended as ever, “dar be de grouper.” 
“Well, so’ I have.understood,” replied his 
Honor, “come up here, we have caught a 
grouper.” The story was gone over again, 
and we had a jelly cocoanut with Jack. So 
much for one of the most enjoyable of the many 
happy days at Nassau. 
I have now against the wall of my den the 
backbone and tail, also the polished jaws with 
their six rows of serrated teeth of the man- 
eater, and they bring back to memory the 
sunny island with its white city set in verdure, 
its clean blue-green waters and coral reefs, 
fruits and darkies, and plants, and there comes 
over me a wish to catch another shark ere I 
grow too old. Wm. B. MeErsHoN, 
Fishing on the Halifax. 
WE started in a light skiff, S., P. and I, one 
fine morning in February, from the Coquina 
landing on Halifax River for a day’s fishing. 
S. and I had bass rods, but P. used a hand line; 
like most of the Floridians, he thought a rod 
and reel were too slow. Mercury at 8 A. M. 66 
degrees, with wind from the southwest. We 
start early, taking advantage of the ebb-tide to 
carry us toward the inlet, and so also to have 
the flood to return.with, which, as we used oars, 
was very important. P. takes the oars amid- 
ships, S. the stern, and I the bow of our skiff, 
and we run swiftly down the west shore, till we 
arrive at a large creek, into which we turn, and 
P. runs her nose on a sand-bank, then, throwing 
the anchor ashore, he goes off with his casting 
net to get mullet for bait. The creek came in 
from the west, and was about fifty yards wide, 
at this time of tide showing long stretches of 
sand-banks. On these flocks of wading birds, 
curlew, willets and plover, with gulls of various 
species, were feeding. A flock of brown pelicans 
were sitting on the sand, apparently asleep, their 
large bills and pouches resting on the ground. 
All appeared tame, as if not often molested. 
On the mangrove trees which fringed the shore 
sat a pair of white herons, their snowy plumage 
relieved against the green foliage. 
P. rolls up his trousers, throws off his shoes, 
and wades slowly out into the creek looking for 
mullet. The casting-net, which these people use 
with great dexterity, is a circle of netting some 
eight or ten feet in diameter, loaded with lead 
at the circumference, and rigged with cords 
which draw it into a bag. With a circular sweep 
the fisherman casts it as far as possible; it opens 
on the water, and sinking rapidly, incloses what- 
ever fish may be beneath. These are secured in 
pockets of netting around the edge of the net. 
Much practice and some strength of arm is 
needed to cast the net, but it is a most efficient 
weapon, and absolutely necessary to the Florida 
fisherman, as the mullet—the common bait— 
cannot be taken with the hook. Also, it re- 
quires sharp eyes to see the fish before casting, 
they being generally near the bottom. At the 
first cast P. gets five or six mullets, which, tak- 
ing out of the pockets, he throws on shore. At 
the second nothing. At the third he gets a 
small bass. Wading further along at the mouth 
of a little slough, he captures a dozen gooa 
mullets, and returns to the boat. ‘“There’s bait 
enough for all day,” he says, as he pushes off. 
The mullet is the most valuable of the coast 
fishes here. In the summer it is preferred to 
any other species as food; in the winter it is 
poor and flavorless, comparatively. There are 
several species in these waters, and they are 
found in immense shoals, almost blackening the 
surface. Most other fishes, as well as water 
fowl and mankind, prey on these helpless and 
inoffensive creatures, which are only saved from 
