ated wall. As the place of captivity came
nearer, every body was intensely anxious to get a first view of the
fish; and many other boats were coming up alongside of ours, which
fortunately lay right over the meshes of the prison, which was becoming
every second more and more restricted in size. At length some of us
obtained a first view of the _spada_ and his long sword, and testified
our delight with vociferation. The fish, meanwhile, who hates publicity,
backs off, and would back out, to the opposite end of the net, where,
still finding himself an object of unpleasant remark, he tries by
violence to escape sideways; but that is _no go_ even for a sword-fish,
for a sword is his which cannot cut cords, and he soon finds he can make
nothing of it. Smaller and smaller, meanwhile, is becoming the condemned
hold, and greater and greater the perturbation within. The captive fish
begins to swim round and round, and to watch a new opportunity, but it
is too late!--too many are on the look-out for him! Every man gets ready
his hooked pole, and there is more tightening of the tackle! The
terrified fish now rises to the surface, as it were to reconnoitre, and
then down he dives with a lash of his tail, which sends buckets of water
into the boat of the assailants. This dive, of course, only carries him
to the false bottom of the net, and come up presently he must! Every eye
now looks _fishy_, and every man's hand is armed for the first blow. One
tall athletic fellow takes aim, and misses; another is more successful,
and hits. Stunned by the blow, the poor fish flounders on this side and
on that, and the water is discoloured by his blood! One, two, three
pointed poles at once, are again in his flank; and now he rushes about
like a rounded lion, brandishing his tail, and dashing up whirlpools of
water. More Blows! more blood! He rushes desperately at the net, and
running his long snout into the meshes, is hopelessly entangled. It is
all over with him! Countless wounds follow, till he turns over on his
side, and is handed up lifeless into the boat.

"There," says one, "goes fifteen scudi's worth, and no harm done to _the
net_." "Little enough, too; but he is worth two thunny, anyhow," says
another. "Ay! and gives more _sport_," exclaims a third. Such piscatory
eclogue fell upon our ear, when our guide announced to us that we had
now seen every thing. The excitement over, we sat down in our boat to
make a note of what we have written,