was mostly dominated by my
feeling. All the same, I think the strain affected him on his own
account.

Then one day Boschen came over to Clemente with Farnsworth--and let me
explain, by the way, that Boschen is probably the greatest heavy tackle
fisherman living. Boschen would not fish for anything except tuna or
swordfish, and up to this visit to Clemente he had caught many tuna, but
only one swordfish, a _Xiphias_. This is the broadbill, or true,
swordfish; and he is even rarer, and certainly larger and fiercer, than
the Marlin, or roundbill, swordfish. This time at Clemente, Boschen
caught his first Marlin and it weighed over three hundred pounds, leaped
clear into the air sixty-three times, and gave a spectacular and
magnificent surface fight that simply beggared description.

[Illustration: A SWORDFISH LEAPING OFF THE BOLD BLACK SHORE OF
CLEMENTE]

[Illustration: ON THE RAMPAGE]

It made me wild to catch one, of like weight and ferocity. I spent
several more endless days in vain. Then on the twenty-fifth day, way off
the east end of Clemente, we sighted a swordfish with a tail almost
pink. He had just come to those waters and had not yet gotten sunburnt.
We did not have to circle round him! At long distance he saw my bait,
and as he went under I saw he had headed for it. I remember that I shook
all over. And when I felt him take that bait, thrill on thrill
electrified me. Steadily the line ran off the reel. Then Captain Dan
leaned over and whispered, hoarsely:

"When you think he's had enough throw on your drag and strike. Then wind
quick and strike again.... Wind and strike! Keep it up till he shows!"

Despite my intense excitement, I was calm enough to follow directions.
But when I struck I felt no weight at all--no strain on the line.
Frantically I wound and jerked--again and again! I never felt him at
all. Suddenly my line rose--and then, bewilderingly near the boat, when
I was looking far off, the water split with a roar and out shot a huge,
gleaming, white-and-purple fish. He blurred in my sight. Down he went
with a crash. I wound the reel like a madman, but I never even half got
up the slack line. The swordfish had run straight toward the boat. He
leaped again, in a place I did not expect, and going down, instantly
came up in another direction. His speed, his savageness, stunned me. I
could not judge of his strength, for I never felt his weight. The next
leap I saw him sling the hook. It was a grea