Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 148: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

130 masthead watched breathlessly, observing that either by instinct or sheer luck Mel had miraculously timed the passage of the pole through the air with due allowance for the speed of its target. The pole nosed into the water , “By he’s got him!” burst out Shiny from the masthead. Bill Alden, the sleek cook, in white cap and apron, had come up from the fore- castle when Shiny first sighted the sword- fish, and was paying out the warp hand over “hand. “A solid iron—firm as a rock!” he an- nounced as he threw over the remaining coils and the keg. “I’ve seen shots with the pole, but never the likes o’ that one!” Mel, grinning with satisfaction, walked along the bowsprit to the fore deck, steady- ing himself by an overhead line. Ike Crowe was coming down the ratlines, for it was his turn to go out in a dory and haul the ironed fish. “By gum—that was beautiful, Mel!” the skipper commended Mel proudly, as the big striker walked aft. He was thinking of how Mel had received his instruction in harpoon- ing from him, and giving himself just a small part of the credit for the remarkable shot. “Twas luck,’ declared Mel unassum- ingly. “D’you mind if I haul him too, Skipper?” “Mind? Lord sakes, Mel—you’re cap’n 0’ the Pelamon this trip,” consented Captain Dan. “Any man who’s done for me what you have, can do jest about as he —— pleases, fur’s I’m concerned.”’ The skipper was holding the painter to the dory dragging astern. Mel jumped into the little boat, while Ike Crowe looked on, a little piqued that Mel had taken the job of hauling the swordfish away from him. Captain Dan cast Mel the painter, and with long strokes the striker rowed out to the keg and picked it up. “Go out in the pulpit, Ike,” the skipper commanded Crowe. ‘You do the strikin’ while Mel’s out.” For Crowe was Mel’s understudy. Crowe went into the pulpit, and Captain Dan opened the engine, sending the Pela- mon ahead in quest of more game. In the dory Mel was skilfuliy playing the sword- fish, while that agonized monster kept in deep water, moving rapidly in its struggling ~and towing the dory behind it. As long as the fish stayed in deep water and kept in Adventure motion, it would slowly drown itself. But if it came to the surface—— Mel began to haul in the warp more and more rapidly. He backed toward the soli- tary bow thwart, still pulling in the slack line. Captain Dan swung the schooner, encircling the fisherman out there alone in the dory. For the slack line was a danger signal. It meant that, unless the sword- fish had torn itself loose from the iron, it was charging the dory sword-first. Mel fell back, lost his balance, and sprawled on the bottom of the dory. At the same time the little boat rocked vio- lently. : “Christopher sakes!” exclaimed Captain . Dan. ‘“Mel’s been punched—an’ unless I’m mistaken, he’s hurt!”’ Toward the dory Captain Dan held the Pelamon. He saw Mel rise slowly, then sink down again. From the masthead of the schooner the anxious crew scurried down the ratlines. The cook ran aft. The skipper slowed down the engine as the schooner drew up alongside the dory. Ready hands hustled Mel aboard the Pela- mon, and Captain Dan hurried amidships to ascertain what had happened. Mel was limping, supported on the stalwart arms of Crowe and Pierre Houde. There was blood around a rent in the right leg of his yellow oilskin trousers. ‘“‘Got me in the leg,” explained Mel to the skipper, gritting his teeth gamely. “Tagged me before I could git to the thwart.” “Take him below!” the skipper ordered Mel’s supporters. ‘“‘Mel—you hurt bad?” ‘“‘Not much, I cale’late,’’ replied the in- jured man, while Crowe and Pierre helped him into the forecastle. Captain Dan fol- lowed them. A \e/ wounds in the leg have frequently proved to fishermen whom sword- fish have punched. While Mel lay on a bunk, the skipper treated the deep gash in the calf muscles with iodine, during which Mel did not even wince at the excruciating pain. The sword, Mel explained, had pierced the bottom of the dory diagonally, ripping through his oilskin trousers and inflicting a elancing rather than a full blow. If it had hit his leg a full blow, it would have torn it to shreds. ‘The only danger is that the pizen on that FORTUNATELY, Mel’s wound, although ugly, was not fatal, as COMIGDIOOKSEEO