“He's coming up,”he said.“Come on hand.Please come on.”
With his prayers said, and feeling much better, but suffering exactly as much,and perhaps a little more,he leaned against the wood of the bow and began,mechanically,to work the fingers of his left hand.
“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.”
He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now.But he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm.The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water,then blurring,then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea.
“Fish,”he said,“I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”