But I was not thinking of freeing him, only of getting hold of the line, and as he struck at me quickly, I thrust him back so sharply that his head struck the deck again.
By that time I had hold of the line, and, thinking no more of Walters, I tried to hold the prize, but was fain to call excitedly upon Mr Denning to help me.
He seized the line too, and for the next five minutes the fish was tearing about here and there in the water far below where we stood, and jerking our arms and shoulders till they ached. Now it would go off at right angles, now directly in the opposite direction.
Then slacking the line for a few moments it shot right away aft, jerking the line so heavily that it was dragged through our hands. The next moment we saw what looked like a huge bar of blue and silver shoot right out of the water and come down with a heavy splash.
“Gone!” I said with a groan, for there were no more fierce tugs, and as I hauled, the line came in yard by yard for me to cast down on the deck.
“The line’s broken,” said Mr Denning in a husky voice, as he drew out his handkerchief to wipe his face.
“Yes; it was a monster,” I said dolefully. “Oh, what a pity!”
“Missed one?” said the captain.
“Yes, sir; a great fellow, five feet long at least.”
“One of the big albicores, I dare say,” he said. “They are very strong in the water. But he has not broken your line, has he?”