A Scared Darkey
"'Fore God! Marse Doctor," said the negro, "I wouldn't stay in de boat wid dat debbil stingaree for a hundred acres in de promise' land!"
But I covered the sting, the dreaded weapon, with a piece of sailcloth and planted a foot on each side of it. The men then put their fare of marketable fish on the top of my specimens, which kept them in place, and then emptied the trap of the rest of the fish. |A Blue Norther|Strange to say, the large shark, at least ten feet long, was completely smothered under the mass of fish and had to be gaffed and hauled overboard by main strength. It was now dark, with two miles to row in the teeth of a blue norther. We arrived at the hotel pier nearly frozen.
"Captain Faulkner," said I, "it's ten dollars in your inside pocket if you get my fish up to Hunter's Point by morning to meet the Tampa fish steamer."
The wind lulled somewhat at midnight, when they started in the sailboat; but it took them until daylight to beat up the fifteen miles to Hunter's Point, where my specimens were put on ice with the market fish and taken on the steamer Mistletoe to Tampa.
Sorry Plight of the Captain
The next day but one I went to Faulkner's shanty, by previous appointment, for another trip to the pound net. I found the Captain sitting by his stove in a sorry plight. His head and face were swathed in bandages and badly swollen.
"Why, Captain!" I exclaimed, "what's the matter? I want to go out to the net this afternoon."
Tic Douloureux
"Matter enough," he replied ruefully. "I've been nearly dead with neuralgia from going out to the net day before yesterday. Look at my face! I wouldn't go to-day for all the fish in Sarasota Bay. You must be made of whit-leather or whalebone!"