This far out,he must be huge in this month,he thought.Eat them,fish.Eat them.Please eat them.How fresh they are and you down there six hundred feet in that cold water in the dark.Make another turn in the dark and come back and eat them.
“Eat it a little more,”he said.“ Eat it well.”
Then he will turn and swallow it,he thought.He did not say that because he knew that if you said a good thing it might not happen.He knew what a huge fish this was and he thought of him moving away in the darkness with the tuna held crosswise in his mouth. At that moment he felt him stop moving but the weight was still there.Then the weight increased and he gave more line.He tightened the pressure of his thumb and finger for a moment and the weight increased and was going straight down.
Just then,watching his lines,he saw one of the projecting green sticks dip sharply.
“I wish the boy was here,”he said aloud and settled himself against the rounded planks of the bow and felt the strength of the great fish through the line he held across his shoulders moving steadily toward whatever he had chosen.
That was the saddest thing I ever saw with them,the old man thought.The boy was sad too and we begged her pardon and butchered her promptly.