May 26, 1906.] 

FOREST AND STREAM. 
835 


TOWING DOWN THE COAST, 
with fish for the survey and construction gang; 
after that we all felt better. 
One morning, when fishing close to the bar, I 
had a very heavy strike followed by a rush so 
hard that I threw on the lever and both thumbs 
on the pad brake and still lost line. The line 
did not rise and no leap or splash followed, so I 
knew one of those beastly sharks had my hook, 
and he fought the usual stupid bottom fight of his 
kind. Slowly Julius started for the beach, as all 
large fish are beached here, which, I think, is a 
mistake, As we reached shoal water the trian- 
gular fin showed what we had. If there is one 
thing next to a rattlesnake I have no use for, it 
is a shark; so I went for him, pumping and 
smashing with both hands, and soon had him 
head on, and Julius gaffed him and hammered 
the life out of him with full permission from me. 
I did not bother to weigh him; but he was a 
small one, about 50 pounds I think, though this 
is only a guess, Our party caught some large 

JEWFISH. 
ones when still-fishing for tarpon, one consider- 
ably over 200 pounds by the measure rule, which 
I give, although I suppose most of your readers 
know it. 
Square the girth, multiplied by the length in 
inches, divided by , equals the weight in 
pounds. Example: Tarpon girth 4o inches, length 
72 inches; 40x40x72 dtvided by 800 equals 144 
pounds weight of tarpon. 
When the tide became too strong to fish we 
would go to the beach on Gasparilla and rest, 
eat our lunch and wait for the change, or, hook- 
ing on to a Jaunch, tow back to the houseboat for 
lunch, returning in the afternoon or even again 
at night to fish in the moonlight. So two weeks 
went by spent in hard fishing, being coached by 
my faithful Julius in how to strike, how not to 
give slack and when to smash and pump, and 
how to do it. All in preparation of the day when 
the king should’ come, and still he came not to 
me. 
one day when about fifteen boats, fishing from 
the different yachts, were slowly trolling in a 
circle. The first intimation I had of his presence 
was when a great bar of silver shot into the air 
near my friend’s boat followed by a white splash 
and the guide’s shout of “Tarpon! tarpon!” He 
was properly struck and beautifully fought to a 
finish by my friend, and after repeatedly leaping 
into the air, was gaffed and landed. Then we 
hoisted the white flag on the launch and towed to 
the houseboat, where the flag denoting a fish was 
hoisted to remain up one day. Then he was 
measured and that night we drank to him, stand- 
ing in silence as becomes the dead, Truly he de- 
served it, for had that fish wings no man would 
catch him. I have been asked what does he look 
like when he jumps? Well, he comes out in a 
rage with every fin sticking out and the gills 
blown out from his head, and looks more like 
an angry tomcat on whom someone has thrown 
a bucket of water than anything else I can 
think of. 
Again, he came to another of our party a day 
or two later, suddenly, and after one furious leap 
blew the hook out and escaped. Each of us felt 
the bitter disappointment of our friend as a per- 
sonal loss. So the days went by, the weather 
turned cold and I gave up hope of catching him, 
though still fishing on. 
April 1, 1906, is a day I shall remember for 
some time. It was too cool for fish, or at least 
I thought so, and told Julius I would not go; but 
he, better sportsman than I, begged me to, say- 
ing: “Doctor, I jess feel it in ma bones you don 
gwine to catch one ob dose tarpon.’ Well, I 
went, and, being detained by some professional 
work, was late in getting to the ground. Julius 
baited the hook with a juicy piece of mullet (1 
remember it had a piece of the mullet’s tail on) 
and I settled down to the usual daily grind of 
catching ordinary fish. Suddenly I had a very 
hard strike and smashed him hard with both 
hands. For just part of a second the line gave a 
little and I thought I had missed, but instantly it 
was jerked to the bottom and stayed there, so 
that I said, “Bottom, Julius. Back her up.” Be- 
fore he could back I felt the line shake and said: 
“T have a fish of some kind.” ‘“Jewfish,” said 
Julius. Hardly had he spoken when the line be- 
gan to go off the reel rapidly in spite of both 
thumbs on the leather brake and the automatic, 
and I threw on the left lever, thus putting on all 
He came unexpectedly to one of our party. 
the strain possible. Still the line flew, and sud- 
denly, about 100 feet out, a great fish rose to the 
surface but did not leap, making only a great 
smother of foam. 
_ “Leaping shark,” said Julius. And again the 
line was torn off in spite of all I could do. Sud- 
denly, far out from the boat, the great fish shot 
into the air and Julius’ shout, “Tarpon! tarpon!” 
told that at last my day had come; but, to my 
horror, I clearly saw in the sunlight that his head 
was free, the hook beine fastened through the 
back near the tail. I told Julius this, and his 
reply, “Too bad; neber git him, sir,’ did not re- 
assure me any; but it did make me angry; and I 
then determined to stay with that tarpon till the 
next freeze came to Florida. The fish did just 
what any reasoning animal would do under the 
same circumstances. Having his head perfectly 
free and the hook stinging his tail, he went like 
the Dickens with the tide, towing the boat. I 
was firmly seated in the chair with my feet braced 
hard across the stern seat, the butt of the rod in 
the rest, both forearms braced on my knees and 
thumbs on the leather brake, everything on the 
reel, and still he took line. At this stage of the 
fight it was a question whether I had the tarpon 
or the tarpon had me. Slowly but surely he took 
line till I was fairly up a tree, as the reel began 
to be painfully empty. 
Presently I noticed the pull was not quite so 
impossibly heavy and began to try and recover 
some lost line. I then found my fingers so 
cramped that I could not use them, but managed 
to turn the handle with my whole fist. Finding 
I was actually gaining a few feet I told Julius to 
“set me on the beach,” and he, never losing his 
head, found a bit of slack water and slowly rowed 
me ashore. Cautioning me not to attempt to land 
until he gave the word, he jumped overboard 
when we hit the beach and pulled the boat up. 
Just then a big wave hit us and partly filled the 
boat, wetting me to the skin, but fearing what 
that terror on the other end of the line might do, 
I took it cheerfully, thankful it was nothing 
worse. Then Julius, reaching over my shoulder, 
took the rod and I climbed painfully out of the 
boat. 
At first there was no feeling in my arms from 
the finger tips to the shoulders, but the men from 
the life saving station, who had come down to 
see the fight, kindly rubbed some life into them 
and I enjoyed seeing Julius, with his feet braced 
wide apart and the sweat running down his face, 
having what I had had for just forty-five minutes. 
I could not help guying him as they rubbed my 
arms and his reply, “Doctor, dis fish shorely am 
de debbil,” cheered me wonderfully. As soon as 
I could use my arms I took the rod and we 
fought it out till I got him near the beach, when 
Julius, making a rush into the surf, gaffed him 
through the head at the first attempt and dragged 
his majesty ashore in triumph. The time, as taken 
carefully by a friend, was one hour and ten min- 

“THE HOOK STILL IN 
