lon, and I started to tell him how I wanted my
swordfish mounted. He interrupted me: "Say, young fellow, you want to
catch a swordfish first!" One of the tuna boatmen gave me a harder jolt.
He said: "Well, if you fish steadily for a couple of weeks, maybe you'll
get a strike. And one swordfish caught out of ten strikes is good work!"
But Danielson was optimistic and encouraging, as any good boatman ought
to be. If I had not been fortunate enough to secure Captain Dan as my
boatman, it is certain that one of the most wonderful fishing
experiences on record would have fallen to some other fisherman, instead
of to me.

We went over to Clemente Island, which is thirty-six miles from Catalina
Island. Clemente is a mountain rising out of the sea, uninhabited,
lonely, wild, and beautiful. But I will tell about the island later.

The weather was perfect, the conditions were apparently ideal. I shall
never forget the sight of the first swordfish, with his great
sickle-shaped tail and his purple fin. Nor am I likely to forget my
disappointment when he totally ignored the flying-fish bait we trolled
before him.

That experience was but a forerunner to others just like it. Every day
we sighted one or more swordfish. But we could not get one to take hold.
Captain Dan said there was more chance of getting a strike from a
swordfish that was not visible rolling on the surface. Now a flying-fish
bait makes a rather heavy bait to troll; and as it is imperative to have
the reel free running and held lightly with the thumb, after a few hours
such trolling becomes hard work. Hard as it was, it did not wear on me
like the strain of being always ready for a strike. I doubt if any
fisherman could stand this strain.

In twenty-one days I had seen nineteen swordfish, several of which had
leaped playfully, or to shake off the remoras--parasite, blood-sucking
little fish--and the sight of every one had only served to increase my
fascination. By this time I had realized something of the difficult
nature of the game, and I had begun to have an inkling of what sport it
might be. During those twenty-one days we had trolled fifteen hundred
miles, altogether, up and down that twenty-five-mile coast of rugged
Clemente. And we had trolled round these fish in every conceivable way.
I cannot begin to describe my sensations when we circled round a
swordfish, and they grew more intense and acute as the strain and
suspense dragged. Captain Dan, of course,