present had expected to see, but about a tenth of what Jack had imagined
from the strength the creature had displayed. In fact there had been
moments when the lad had again been calculating whether at one of the
fiercest rushes he would not have to let go and so escape being dragged
over the rail.

But now, half drowned by being drawn through the water, the fish came in
slowly and quietly, the lad having all the hauling to himself, till,
leaning over, the mate made a dart and a snatch with the great
gaff-hook, the weight on Jack's arms suddenly ceased, and, helped by the
big dark sailor, Mr Bartlett hauled the prisoner quickly in over the
rail, for it to lie beating the white boards with sounding slaps of its
crescent-moon-shaped tail.

"Well done!" cried Sir John. "What brilliant colours!"

"Hah! yes," cried the doctor. "This is something like fishing. What is
it, captain?"

"Oh, one of the great mackerel tribe fellows they have in the
Mediterranean. It isn't a bonito, for it's too big, but just as bright
in its colours. Can't be a small tunny come down through the Canal, can
it?"

"I'm puzzled," said the mate, bending over the beautiful prize. "It may
be; but whatever it is, Mr Meadows here has had a fine stroke of luck,
and we shall have fish for dinner."

Jack flushed with the excitement of the capture, and stood looking on at
the beauty of the creature's colours in the bright sunshine, while the
mate placed the end of the gaff-pole between its jaws before attempting
to extract the great triple hook which hung by a swivel beneath the
silvered shining bait.

"I should say it is one of the bonitos," said the doctor thoughtfully.
"It has that slimness just before the tail fin spreads out, and there
are plenty of flying fish here, of course."

"Plenty, sir," said the captain. "I dare say if you go forward you'll
see them beginning to skip out of the water, startled by the yacht.
Seen any yet, Mr Jack?"

"Not yet," was the reply.

"Yes," said the doctor, "I think that's what it is. They chase the
flying fish, and this fellow must have taken your long spoon-bait for
one of them. Don't you think so, Bartlett?"

"Yes, sir, you are right; but without exaggeration I never saw so fine a
one as this. Why," he continued, clasping his hands round the thin part
near the tail and raising the fish for a few moments before letting it
fall back on the white boards, "it is very little short of forty
pounds."