n of lookers-on, it never occurred to him that he might help the
capture by letting the boat follow the fish.

Matters then had just as it were reached a climax, when, instead of the
line breaking or Mark going over the side, the strong cord, which had
been hissing here and there through the water, suddenly grew slack, and
the tension was taken off Mark's muscles and mind to give place to a
feeling of despair.

"Well, you are a fisherman, sir," growled Small, spitting a little
tobacco juice into the water in disgust. "You've lost as fine a fish as
was ever pulled out of the sea."

"How do you know?" said Mark, beginning to haul in the line slowly hand
over hand. "You didn't see it."

"See it! Why, I see it pull. It was a fine un, and badly as we wants a
bit o' fish too. There, haul in sharp and put on a fresh bait."

"It doesn't seem much use," said Mark bitterly. "My hands are quite
sore."

"You'll be obliged to let me have a try. Skipper'll come down on me if
we don't have something to show when we get back. Ah! there's a nice
fish now," he continued, as a great fellow looking like a fifty-pound
salmon sprang a full yard out of the water and fell back with a
tremendous splash.

"Why, that's him," cried Mark, "and he's on still."

"Hooray! then: get him this time, my lad," cried Small; and it was
evident now that, finding its course out to sea checked, the fish had
suddenly turned and darted back, swimming toward the boat and causing
the slackening of the line, but directly in the hauling it felt the hook
it sprang right out of the water and made a fresh rush.

But this was not so powerful a run as the first, and as Mark held on,
the fish repeated its manoeuvre and swam toward the boat.

This time Mark was able to haul in nearly half the line before the fish
made another dart, but only to be checked, and rush to and fro, forming
zigzags through the water, which it varied by a series of leaps clear
out.

"You'll lose him, my lad, you'll lose him," grumbled Small at every
bound; but the hook was fast in, and Mark instinctively gave line at
every rush till the fish grew weary, and was drawn in closer to the boat
after the wild dashes, and then, for the seventh or eighth time as it
was hauled in, and Mark was prepared for a new dart, and in dread that
this time the hook should straighten or break away, the panting creature
suddenly turned up and floated upon its side.

"Well hauled," shouted Small.