The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1877-10-18
TAKING A SWORDFISH.
Terrible Struggle with nm Air.tiaht Barrel
Attached to n Hnrpoon.

Terrible Struggle with nm Air.tiaht Barrel
| Attached to n Harpoon.
1t was some time before we could dis
tinguish the speck, rising and falling
with the sea, which had attracted the old
whalemau's attention. Soon he pro-
nounced it a fish, and after putting
us on the other tack to run down partly
to leeward of it, went below to bring up
the irons. When we had worked perhaps
a mile before it. we lay to for our final in
structions, the skipper took the wheel
to keep her head on if yer can, ;" and
the one who held the air-tight barrel
was told "When y're sure I've struck
him, over with it."
He was as cool as q cucumber, as he
took the harpoon and cutting spade for
| ward, coiling the line Zone end of which
was fast to the harpoon, the other to the
barreD carefully on deck, with the cau-
tion: "Ware when it flakes out" and
taking only enough with him to his roost
on the bowsprit end to give him ample
elbow room. His station reached, he
fixed the shade in the support ready to
receive it, laid the iron in front of him
across the cage, waved his hand, and we
filled away, close hauled. Never was q
mile more slowly sailed by the little
group in the pit of the White Cloud.
Never had our hearts beaten faster
than as we neared the fifteen feet fish,
rolling, asleep, in the trough of the sea.
Now the pilot is almost over him slow
ly he raises the iron, braces himself,
and hurles it with all the strength of
sinewy arms. The iron sinks deeply
into the sleeping fish there is a mighty
surge, the line flakes overheard as quick
ly as thought, the float splashes as it
disappears beneath the water, then all
is still. We luff and wait. Presently
up bobs the float. The fish finding the
strain of the air-tight barrel too severe
is coming to the surface. Now the water
bubbles and boils just under our lee,
and the swordfish breaches himself
savagely, and swims at lightning speed
for the barrel. He strikes it again and
again with his sword, but it rests so
lightly on top of the water that he can
not iniure it. Then he stops, looks at
us an instant, and darts toward the boat.
We have not time to bring her head
around, and if he strikes it will be amid
ships. The pilot comes quickly aft,
bringing his long-handled, three
cornered spade, and, as the fish comes
within striking distance, aims one swift,
unerring blow full at his forehead. The
terrible sword drops harmless, the up
per muscles at its base are severed, and
he passes under us, iarring the boat
and splashing us with water as he
sounds.
Again the float goes under and is out
of sight longer time than before.
Again the fish throws himself out of
water, showing his sword down at an
angle of forty five degrees. He swims
once or twice around the barrel, then
starts to windward at too furious a speed
to last with the float ploughing behind
him. When we beat up he is feebly
fighting it. He sounds for short time,
but comes up exhausted. Once or twice
he rolls over on his side. but RECEIVERS
himself and swims on in sholt tacks.
We press him too closely. and he charges
us again, but we make no effort to avoid
him, knowing that now he is powerless
to injure us, nor does he try to strike,
apparently realizing that his weapon is
useless, but goes under, coming up the
other side.
And SO lie sounds and swims, fights
and runs, until at last he succumbs to
exhaustion and lies still. We work up
alongside, and as we luff the pilot puts a
lance into his very life. There is q
shudder along his whole body, his fins
work convulsively a moE.ent, and then
he lies motionless and dead. We rig n
tackle to our mainmast, and after con-
siderable labor get him aboard, where
we can examine at our leisure his pecul-
lar shape. and admire his graceful
"clipper build" Our Nantucketer esti-
mates his weight at between 500 and 600
pounds. His sword is over three feet
in length, its broken point and nicked
edges proving that its owner was an old
as well as fighting fish.
Our fish is ON board, and after reserv-
ing few choice cuts, turned over to our
pilot, who asks that we run into Martha's
Vineyard that he may dispose of him be-
fore he spoils. And so we set gaff and
lib topsails, haul off before the wind,
and lay our course northward. Forest
and Stream.