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Dan and I both made sure it was a strike. But, no! He came up far astern, and then went down for good. The sea got rough. The wind was chilling to the bone. Sheerwater ducks were everywhere, in flocks and singly. Saw one yellow patch of small bait fish about an inch long. This patch was forty yards across. No fish appeared to be working on it. Dan sighted a big swordfish. We made for him.
Fullalove's word came too true: it was the swordfish and the whale: it was a fight of hammer and anvil; one hit, the other made a noise. Cautious and cruel, the pirate hung on the poor hulking creature's quarters and raked her at point blank distance. He made her pass a bitter time. And her captain!
We had not gone a dozen boat-lengths when up out of the blue depths lunged a lazy swordfish and attached himself to R. C.'s hook. He sort of half lolled out in lazy splashes four or five times. He looked huge. All of a sudden he started off, making the reel hum. That run developed swiftly. Dan backed the boat full speed. In vain! It was too late to turn.
Toward dusk of night you stand in first, a league or more ahead of us, according to the daylight, Tom to the north of you, and me to the south, just within signaling distance. The Kestrel and Albatross will come to speak the Swordfish off Robin Hood's Bay, at that very hour, as we happen to be aware.
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.
Coming back the wind sprang up and we had a following sea. It was fine to watch the green-and-white rollers breaking behind us. The tuna appear to be working farther and farther off the east end. Marlin swordfish have showed up off the east end. Three caught yesterday and one to-day. I have not yet seen a broadbill, and fear none are coming this year. August 8th. Went off east end.
He started up just in time to see a large fish dart away, leaving the blood streaming from a gory wound in the head of the swordfish. A shark! Percy knew he was in for a fight. He seized the lance and sprang into the stern. A black fin shot alongside. The marauder rolled up for his turn at the banquet. Just as his jaws opened Percy drove the keen steel into his throat.
Then came a short period during which he sounded and I slowly worked him closer. Presently he swam toward the boat the old swordfish trick. I never liked it, but with the sailfish I at least was not nervous about him attacking the boat. Let me add here that this freedom from dread which is never absent during the fighting of a big swordfish is one of the features so attractive in sailfishing.
"Says the whale to the swordfish," suggested Fullalove, with a little guttural laugh. The captain, with the American glass at his eye, turned half round to the man at the wheel: "Starboard!" "Starboard it is." "Steer South South East." "Ay, ay, sir." And the ship's course was thus altered two points. This order lowered Dodd fifty per cent in Mr. Sharpe's estimation.
We did not get started out on the water until eight o'clock. The east wind had whipped up a little chop that promised bad. But the wind gradually died down and the day became hot. Great thunderheads rose over the mainland, proclaiming heat on the desert. We saw scattered sheerwater ducks and a school of porpoises; also a number of splashes that I was sure were made by swordfish.
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