Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1890-10-10
AFTER A SWORDFISH.
A RIGOROUS" FISHING TRIP IN THE
BAY OF FUNDY.

Waves Like the Coney Island Toboggan
slide-The Correspondent "Siled His
Garment"-In the Tail of a storm-The
Shippers Tale of Woe.
had longed to 60 swordfshing all my
life. l knew the creature was ~1avorous,
gamy and good, for l had eaten savory
bits of him broiled. ! knew that he car
ried on his pugnacious snout a sword of
polished ivory as lively as an Italians sti-
letto and as heavy as King Arthur's ex-
caliber. I knew he would fight like a cow-
boy, and was from eight to fifteen feet
long. So l wanted to go after him, or I
foolishly thought + did. I was talking in
this way IN Il pile of stone they called a
wharf when a skipper spoke up and says:
"Yon goes a Teller after 'em. WY don't
you go along 'er 'imf"
He blew on his fingers a shrill pipe-one
long blast and two short-as a signal, and
received a similar answering horn. The
sails luffed, the sloop hove to and came
around, and my whistling agent put me
aboard from his own dory.
ON DOARD THE sLOOP.
The sloop tackled again and laid herself
right down before the wind. It seemed
nice. Each wave was about as long as the
sloop, and rolled up from toward Spain. 1t
seemed like the corduroy toboggan slide at
Coney Island. 1t suggested going to heaven
in a hammock. We introduced ourselves.
The shippers name, I had been told, was
Hallibut, but after I had called him by it
about a hundred times I found out that it
was Hurlbut. He was at the helm and
held the reins. Another man stood on a
little platform about thirty feet up the
mast, and it was his business to discover
the fish and tell the captain which way to
steer. A third man was standing right
out on the end of the bowsprit with a har-
pooh in his right hand, a sharp, ugly look
ing steel weapon six or seven feet long.
"This is g%loriousl" l shouted.
"Hey?" sung out the skipper, above the
whistling wind.
"Gloriousl' I repeated.
'Tail of a storm" he shouted back,
"sha'n't git no fish,"
I went over where he stood. There were
two vessels like our own a little distance
off, with men in the crosstrees and on the
bow.
The captain tackled, and as the boom
came around yelled out, ok out for your
headl" looked out for it, and then l OBJ
served for the first time that he seemed in
trouble. He was swearing in a low, gentle
baritone voice uninterruptedly, mildly,
with quite a surprising range of epithet
and Of metaphor. 1t was the most serene
profanity l had ever heard. 1t had wheel
ling and even pathetic accents, like a New
foundland dog that is being petted.
"What is it, sir?" l ventured to ask.
"That Internal son of u sculpin on the
lee quarter stole a fish FIN me yiste'day,"
said he in the same subdued voice. "I'd
like to whale 'em soft he couldn't stan',"
and then he blasphemed again in a foolish
and ridiculous voice.
"Did he take it right off the deck?" I
asked.
He cast a whitening glance at me, swore
a little and remarked: HE did not, but he
might just as well Nv. 1t was my fish. 1t
want more'n ten rod ahead Nv us, and we
wuz jest a goin' to gather i'm"
I said l never considered a deer mine
till I'd shot him."
FRIGHT oFF'M HIS DECK"
He grunted five or six times in a way
that was sad to see, embroidering hat ut
terance with an arabesque of profanity
quite dazzling to hear, and added: Hui q
deer! Well he might git away FIN ye,
mightn't he? An a swordfish couldn't git
away FIN me, could he? That's the differ
ence, amt it? just as soon that white
livered measly cuss had took it right off'm
my deck"
"Starboard bowl" yelled the man in the
rigging.
"Hellol" said the captain in a surprised
way, and put his helm a-port. The sloop
listed to the leeward, and the man on the
bow held up his harpoon at arms length
and gazed anxiously down into the water.
A writhing convulsion-chug-the sharp
iron had left his hand and gone into the
sea. The rope ratified after, the sloop came
around into the wind, a boat was tossed
over the guards by a man and a boy, and
the chase began.
Answering my inquiries the skipper
said: He'll run till he tires out, then he'll
come to the surface, and they will haul
him up to the boat, knock him in the head
with an ak and pull him aboard-if they
are strong enough. If he's too big they'll
town over here"
We were almost out of sight of land.
The sloop was running hurdle race, jump
ing over waves as high as a house. She
pitched fearfully and she rolled awfully.
Tobogganing was firing me out. It sug-
gested going in a hammock to the other
place. My stomach was queasy.
"When are we going ashore?" 1 asked.
when we get some fish" said the skip
per. "This is glorious"
l stood up a minute longer heroically,
and then I calmly lay down in the bottom
of the vessel-in my white 1annels, oh, be-
loved readerl in my white lannels. It was
wet, and mackerel had apparently just
been shoveled out Of it, but l did not care.
l was Indifferent as to what became of nv
clothes or myself
The skipper began to sing.
I cast one imploring look at him and
Bring a bucket, Pete" he exclaimed to
the other boy.
Pete did as he was told.
"Sayl Yer SLING yer garmintsl" re-
marked the skipper. Itried to remember
the things he had said about the unscru-
pulous mariner who stole his swordfsh.
The sloop lay wallowing In the trough Of
the sea, and I lay wallowing in the trough
Of the sloop.
We got ashore some time toward night,
and after lying on a pile of boards for a
couple of hours I got so that I could stand
up and even speak a few words.
Seeing the Infant fiend passing up the
street in the cleaning I asked him if they
got the swordfsh.
mo, sir" he said. Didn't ye know he