oot of
line if they can help it. They horse him in, and if they can horse him
in before he wakes up to real combat they are the better pleased. All of
which is to say that the true motive (or pleasure, if it can be such)
is the instinct to kill. I have observed this in many fishermen. Any one
who imagines that man has advanced much beyond the savage stage has only
carefully to observe fishermen.

[Illustration: THE OLD AVALON BARGE WHERE THE GULLS FISH AND SCREAM]

[Illustration: THE END OF THE DAY OFF CATALINA ISLAND]

I have demonstrated the practicability of letting Marlin swordfish go
after they were beaten, but almost all of the boatmen will not do it.
The greater number of swordfish weigh under two hundred pounds, and when
exhausted and pulled up to the boat they can be freed by cutting the
wire leader close to the hook. Probably all these fish would live. A
fisherman will have his fun seeing and photographing the wonderful
leaps, and conquering the fish, and when all this is over it would be
sportsman-like to let him go. Marlin are not food fish, and they are
thrown to the sharks. During 1918, however, many were sold as food fish.
It seems a pity to treat this royal, fighting, wonderful, purple-colored
fish in this way. But the boatmen will not free them. My boatman claimed
that his reputation depended upon the swordfish he caught; and that in
Avalon no one would believe fish were caught unless brought to the dock.
It was his bread and butter. His reputation brought him new fishermen,
and so he could not afford to lose it. Nevertheless, he was persuaded to
do it in 1918. The fault, then, does not lie with the boatman.

The Japs are the greatest market fishermen in the world. And some five
hundred boats put out of San Pedro every day, to scour the ocean for
"the chicken of the sea," as albacore are advertised to the millions of
people who are always hungry. It must be said that the Japs mostly fish
square. They use a hook, and a barbless hook at that. Usually four Japs
constitute the crew of one of these fast eighty-horse-power motor-boats.
They roam the sea with sharp eyes ever alert for that thin white line on
the horizon, the feeding albacore. Their method of fishing is unique and
picturesque. When they sight albacore they run up on the school and slow
down.

In the stern of the boat stands a huge tank, usually painted red. I have
become used to seeing dots of red all over the ocean. This tank is kept
fu