THE SILVER KING.
Within half an hour the mysterious trail of smoke along the keys was
obliterated, although it was not far in advance of the _Arrow’s_ course.
Even before the boys had ceased to wonder what it really was, it seemed
to vanish from sight as if blown away by a puff of wind, leaving them
nothing but their useless speculation.
Presently they became aware of a new motion of the staunch little
_Arrow_. It rode easily upon long, slow, oily swells, rising and sinking
at a rate that soon caused the unhappy Seminole to stagger into the
little cuddy of a cabin, with a look on his leathery face which
prophesied that one Indian was about to be utterly and unrestrainedly
seasick!
“Poor Dave!” said Norton, as the victim’s figure slouched dejectedly
into a secluded corner. “I can sympathize with him, though I’m lucky
enough not to know how he feels!”
“How about you, Billy, you land-lubber?” inquired Alec. “You’re
beginning to look a trifle pale around the gills!”
“Shut up!” retorted Billy good-naturedly.
“Nice thing to tell a fellow, I must say!” remarked Chester with a grin.
“It’s enough to make anyone feel seasick, to be told he looks so!” Hugh
added laughing. “Give a dog a bad name, and he’ll bite—just to save his
reputa——”
“Something else is biting!” yelled Billy, and he sprang forward eagerly.
There was a rattling noise behind them. The captain, abandoning the
wheel for a moment, reached forth and grabbed a tarpon rod that was
sliding overboard. He thrust it into Alec’s hand.
“Hang on to it,” he gruffly directed. “You’ve got somethin’ big, lad.
Mebbe, though, it’s only a shark.”
“Only a shark!” echoed Alec in surprise. “Why, I thought sharks were
enormous!”
“There’s all kinds o’ sharks, big an’ little.”
“I’ve heard of land sharks,” murmured Norton, “and seen ’em, too; but
I’ve never met with a sea shark. At least, I’ve never been on speaking
terms with one.”
“This one pulls like a whale!” Alec declared, playing the long line, one
hand on the reel.
Seeing that his own pole was all right, Billy remained close beside
Alec, ready to lend a hand if Alec needed assistance. For a while none
was needed, but by and by it began to appear that the fish was tiring
the fisherman, instead of just the reverse. Alec’s wrists and forearms
positively ached with the strain of managing the prize, and he allowed
Billy to help him. All stood around, tense with interest, watching the
contest. Even Dave, hearing their gleeful shouts and exclamations,
forgot his misery and came forth from the cuddy to add his grunts and
mumbled directions. However, he was unable to remain long on deck. With
a portentous groan, he fled again to contend with his woes.
As the sloop plunged onward, they played the fish nearly an hour, taking
turns so that all might share in the sport. Twice, by a skilful handling
of the reel, Hugh barely kept the line from snapping. At last they drew
the game in far enough to see a gleam of silver flash through the dark
green water. A big tarpon leaped out of the bosom of a wave, glittered
one moment in the sunlight, and then darted back into its native
element.
“Gee! Did you see him?”
“Did I! Well, you bet I did!”
“Must be a fifty pounder!”
“All of that. No wonder he pulls so hard!”
“Keep your hand on the reel, Chester. He’ll snap the line if we’re not
careful,” advised Norton. “Easy now! He’s tired, but there is a lot of
fight in him yet.”
“Ginger! I should say so! Look at that!”
Again the big fish leaped.
“Where’s Dave with the gaff?” demanded Captain Vinton. “Dave, you lazy,
good-fer-nothin’ sea-cook, come up here. Bring that gaff.”
Another frantic leap of the tarpon, not so high this time, brought a
shout from Alec.
“Oh, you Dave! Hurry up!”
But the Indian just then was dead to this world. Not even a groan gave
assurance that he was still alive and miserable. Silence hung over the
deck of the _Arrow_, silence broken only by the excited gasps of her
fishing crew.
Convinced that Dave would not or could not respond to the call, Vinton
lashed the tiller, and reached into a locker from which he brought out
the gaff. He prepared to use it as soon as the tarpon came within reach.
But there was more strength than he supposed in the tiring yet gamey
sea-fighter. Out spun the line from the humming reel; to and fro darted
the silver prize, until more than a dozen yards lay between him and the
_Arrow’s_ gunwale.
“Reel in, reel in!” cried Norton. “Don’t give him a chance to jerk
away.”
“Slow up a little!” the captain added quickly, leaning as far out over
the rail as his portly proportions would allow. He was almost as eager
as any of the boys. He had forgotten his dignity as master of the
_Arrow_, and was lost in the excitement of capturing a fifty pounder.
“Slow now. That’s better—ah! He nearly got away then!”
Just about this time Hugh heard a sudden rasp of line spinning from his
rod, which lay on the opposite side of the deck, wedged under another
thwart.
“Hello! that pole will go overboard unless I do something,” he cried,
and sprang forward to seize it as it slid toward the taffrail. He
managed to catch it at the instant that the butt was about to slip
oceanward. “Oh, come here!” he called out. “Another tarpon hooked!”
Thrusting the rod into Alec’s hands once more, Billy crossed over to
join Hugh.
“Ready there now?” he heard Captain Vinton ask in a loud tone. And then
came Chester’s eager, “A little nearer, Alec, a little nearer. There!”
Vinton made a lunge with the gaff.
“Durn him! He dodged it!” exclaimed the captain in great vexation.
“Try it again,” urged Norton cheerily. “Better luck next time.”
Meanwhile, on their side of the sloop, Hugh and Billy were having their
hands full. One was trying to gain command of the reel, and the other
was keeping a firm hold on the pole. So absorbed were they in this feat,
they were oblivious to a sudden veer of the wind and an increased
rolling of the _Arrow_. Hugh’s reel was buzzing furiously. With staring
eyes he watched the line cut through the water, and every minute he and
Billy expected to see a tarpon just as big as the first one leap from a
wave.
They heard a shout, followed by a splash and the spasmodic flapping of a
big fish landed on the deck, and they knew that the first tarpon had
been caught. But they scarcely turned their heads to look. Their whole
attention was given to this one.
Suddenly the captain, becoming aware of the wind flurry, sprang to the
wheel.
“Look out, boys!” he cried hoarsely. “She’s going to jibe! Watch out,
you two there!”
Startled, Billy glanced around and instantly realized the new peril; but
Hugh, absorbed with holding the fish and saving his line, saw nothing.
At Billy’s warning, however, he ducked his head just in time to escape a
sweeping blow from the big boom which swung over the starboard beam,
requiring Vinton to take a new tack. Still holding his line, desperately
hoping that it would not break, Hugh began to reel in his prize swiftly
and skilfully. Ordinarily he would not have tried this, but with the
shifting of the vessel’s course he felt there was no time to spare.
Besides, his tarpon seemed to have been more securely hooked than the
first one, and Billy now knew just what to do. After about ten minutes
of struggle, they succeeded in pulling up on deck a fish that was only a
few inches smaller than the other, and their exploit was greeted with a
cheer.
“Stow the shoutin’, lads!” ordered Captain Vinton. “Here! Take the
sheet. That easter is a hummer, I reckon. Be ready to lower the peaks,
Norton, if I give the word.”
Hugh, Alec, and Chester sprang for the main sheet, loosening it
promptly. Billy stood ready to help Norton. The captain pushed the
tiller away from the “nor’-easter,” and surveyed with “a weather eye”
the rolling expanse of waters now darkened by frequent “flaws.”
“We’re right in the wake of a squall,” he stated calmly. “Keep cool,
every mother’s son o’ you-all. Where’s that copper-hide rascal, Dave? In
the cuddy, eh? Well, this’ll either kill him or cure him!”