To resume then:  when this school of dolphin (I can’t for the life of me call them CORIPHAENA HIPPURIS) came alongside, a rush was made for the “granes”—­a sort of five-pronged trident, if I may be allowed a baby bull.  It was universally agreed among the fishermen that trying a hook and line was only waste of time and provocative of profanity! since every sailor knows that all the deep-water big fish require a living or apparently living bait.  The fish, however, sheered off, and would not be tempted within reach of that deadly fork by any lure.  Then did I cover myself with glory.  For he who can fish cleverly and luckily may be sure of fairly good times in a whaler, although he may be no great things at any other work.  I had a line of my own, and begging one of the small fish that had been hauled up in the Gulf weed, I got permission to go aft and fish over the taffrail.  The little fish was carefully secured on the hook, the point of which just protruded near his tail.  Then I lowered him into the calm blue waters beneath, and paid out line very gently, until my bait was a silvery spot about a hundred feet astern.  Only a very short time, and my hopes rose as I saw one bright gleam after another glide past the keel, heading aft.  Then came a gentle drawing at the line, which I suffered to slip slowly through my fingers until I judged it time to try whether I was right or wrong, A long hard pull, and my heart beat fast as I felt the thrill along the line that fishermen love.  None of your high art here, but haul in hand over hand, the line being strong enough to land a 250 pound fish.  Up he came, the beauty, all silver and scarlet and blue, five feet long if an inch, and weighing 35 pounds.  Well, such a lot of astonished men I never saw.  They could hardly believe their eyes.  That such a daring innovation should be successful was hardly to be believed, even with the vigorous evidence before them.  Even grim Captain Slocum came to look and turned upon me as I thought a less lowering brow than usual, while Mr. Count, the mate, fairly chuckled again at the thought of how the little Britisher had wiped the eyes of these veteran fishermen.  The captive was cut open, and two recent flying-fish found in his maw, which were utilized for new bait, with the result that there was a cheerful noise of hissing and spluttering in the galley soon after, and a mess of fish for all hands.

Shortly afterwards a fresh breeze sprang up, which proved to be the beginning of the N.E. trades, and fairly guaranteed us against any very bad weather for some time to come.

Somehow or other it had leaked out that we were to cruise the Cape Verd Islands for a spell before working south, and the knowledge seemed to have quite an enlivening effect upon our Portuguese shipmates.