He ate the other part of the piece that he had cut in two. He chewed it carefully and then spat out the skin.
He took another full piece and chewed it.
Some time before daylight something took one of the baits that were behind him.He heard the stick break and the line begin to rush out over the gunwale of the skiff.In the darkness he loosened his sheath knife and taking all the strain of the fish on his left shoulder he leaned back and cut the line against the wood of the gunwale.Then he cut the other line closest to him and in the dark made the loose ends of the reserve coils fast.He worked skillfully with the one hand and put his foot on the coils to hold them as he drew his knots tight.Now he had six reserve coils of line.There were two from each bait he had severed and the two from the bait the fish had taken and they were all connected.
With his prayers said, and feeling much better, but suffering exactly as much,and perhaps a little more,he leaned against the wood of the bow and began,mechanically,to work the fingers of his left hand.
I wish he'd sleep and I could sleep and dream about the lions,he thought.Why are the lions the main thing that is left?Don't think,old man,he said to himself.Rest gently now against the wood and think of nothing.He is working.Work as little as you can.