Don’t jump, fish,” he said. “Don’t jump

He is hitting the wire leader with his spear, he thought. That was bound to come.
He had to do that. It may make him jump though and I would rather he stayed circling
now. The jumps were necessary for him to take air. But after that each one can widen the
opening of the hook wound and he can throw the hook.
“Don’t jump, fish,” he said. “Don’t jump.”
The fish hit the wire several times more and each time he shook his head the old
man gave up a little line.
I must hold his pain where it is, he thought. Mine does not matter. I can control
mine. But his pain could drive him mad.
After a while the fish stopped beating at the wire and started circling slowly again.
The old man was gaining line steadily now. But he felt faint again. He lifted some sea
water with his left hand and put it on his head. Then he put more on and rubbed the back
of his neck.
“I have no cramps,” he said. “He’ll be up soon and I can last. You have to last. Don’t
even speak of it.”
He kneeled against the bow and, for a moment, slipped the line over his back again.
I’ll rest now while he goes out on the circle and then stand up and work on him when he
comes in, he decided.
[88] It was a great temptation to rest in the bow and let the fish make one circle by
himself without recovering any line. But when the strain showed the fish had turned to
come toward the boat, the old man rose to his feet and started the pivoting and the
weaving pulling that brought in all the line he gained.
I’m tireder than I have ever been, he thought, and now the trade wind is rising. But
that will be good to take him in with. I need that badly.
“I’ll rest on the next turn as he goes out,” he said. “I feel much better. Then in two or
three turns more I will have him.”
His straw hat was far on the back of his head and he sank down into the bow with the
pull of the line as he felt the fish turn.
You work now, fish, he thought. I’ll take you at the turn.
The sea had risen considerably. But it was a fair-weather breeze and he had to have it
to get home.
“I’ll just steer south and west,” he said. “A man is never lost at sea and it is a long
island.”
It was on the third turn that he saw the fish first.
He saw him first as a dark shadow that took so long [89] to pass under the boat that
he could not believe its length.