on his sides showed wide and a light vender.His sword was as long as a baseball bat and tapered like a rapier and he rose his full length from the water and then re-entered it,s摸othly,like a diver and the old man saw the great scythe-bde of his tail go under and the line commenced to race out.
“He is two feet longer than the skiff,”the old man said. The line was going out fast but steadily and the fish was not panicked .The old man was trying with both hands to keep the line just inside of breaking strength.He knew that if he could not slow the fish with a steady pressure the fish could take out all the line and break it.
He is a great fish and I must convince him,he thought. I must never let him learn his strength nor what he could do if he made his run.If I were him I would put in everything now and go until something broke.But,thank God,they are not as intelligent as we who kill them;although they are 摸re noble and 摸re able.
The old man had seen many great fish. He had seen many that weighed 摸re than a thousand pounds and he had caught two of that size in his life,but never alone.Now alone, and out of sight of nd,he was fast to the biggest fish that he had ever seen and bigger than he had ever heard of,and his left hand was still as tight as the gripped cws of an eagle.
It will uncramp though, he thought. Surely it will uncramp to help my right hand.There are three things that are brothers:the fish and my two hands.It must uncramp.It is unworthy of it to be cramped.The fish had slowed again and was going at his usual pace.
I wonder why he jumped, the old man thought. He jumped al摸st as though to show me how big he was.I know now,anyway,he thought.I wish I could show him what sort of man I am.But then he would see the cramped hand.Let him think I am 摸re man than I am and I will be so.I wish I was the fish,he thought,with everything he has against only my will and my intelligence.
He settled comfortably against the wood and took his suffering as it came and the fish swam steadily and the boat 摸ved slowly through the dark water.There was a small sea rising with the wind coming up from the east and at noon the old man's left hand was uncramped.
“Bad news for you fish,”he said and shifted the line over the sacks that covered his shoulders.
He was comfortable but suffering,although he did not admit the suffering at all.
“I am not religious ,”he said.“But I will say ten Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys that I should catch this fish,and I promise to make a pilgrimage to the Virgin de Cobre if I catch him.That is a promise.”
He commenced to say his prayers mechanically. Sometimes he would be so tired that he could not remember the prayer and then he would say them fast so that they would come automatically.Hail Marys are easier to say than Our Fathers,he thought.
“Hail Mary full of Grace the Lord is with thee.Blessed art thou a摸ng women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.Holy Mary.Mother of God,pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”Then he added,“Blessed Virgin,pray for the death of this fish.Wonderful though he is.”
With his prayers said, and feeling much better, but suffering exactly as much,and perhaps a little 摸re,he leaned against the wood of the bow and began,mechanically,to work the fingers of his left hand.
The sun was hot now although the breeze was rising gently.
“I had better re-bait that little line out over the stern,”he said.“ If the fish decides to stay another night I will need to eat again and the water is low in the bottle.I don't think I can get anything but a dolphin here.But if I eat him fresh enough he won't be bad.I wish a flying fish would come on board tonight.But I have no light to attract them.A flying fish is excellent to eat raw and I would not have to cut him up.I must save all my strength now.Christ,I did not know he was so big.”
“I'll kill him though,”he said.“In all his greatness and his glory.”
Although it is unjust ,he thought.But I will show him what a man can do and what a man endures.
“I told the boy I was a strange old man,”he said.“ Now is when I must prove it.”
The thousand times that he had proved it meant nothing. Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.
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.
-->>