His choice had been to stay in the deep dark water far out beyond all snares and traps and treacheries.My choice was to go there to find him beyond all people.Beyond all people in the world.Now we are joined together and have been since noon.And no one to help either one of us.
He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now.But he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm.The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water,then blurring,then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea.
A small bird came toward the skiff from the north.He was a warbler and flying very low over the water.The old man could see that he was very tired.
“What kind of a hand is that,”he said.“Cramp then if you want.Make yourself into a claw.It will do you no good.”Come on,he thought and looked down into the dark water at the slant of the line.Eat it now and it will strengthen the hand.It is not the hand's fault and you have been many hours with the fish.But you can stay with him forever.Eat the bonito now.
I wish I could feed the fish, he thought. He is my brother.But I must kill him and keep strong to do it.Slowly and conscientiously he ate all of the wedge-shaped strips of fish.