chapter4-page_42-50

Chapter 4

It was getting into the afternoon, and the boat still moved slowly and steadily. The old

man rode gently with the small sea as the cord hurt his back. Once in the afternoon the

line started to rise again, but the fish only continued to swim at a slightly higher level.

The sun was on the old man's left arm and shoulder, and on his back.

If you're not tired fish, he said aloud, you must be very strange. He felt very tired now,

and he knew the night would come soon, and he tried to think of other things. He thought of the

big leagues, and he knew the New York Yankees were playing the Detroit Tigers.

Do you believe the great Demagio would stay with a fish as long as I will stay with this one?

He thought, I am sure he would, and more since he is young and strong. Also, his father was a

fisherman. He thought about his left hand. It had always been a traitor, and would not do what

he wanted it to do, and he did not trust it. An airplane passed overhead on its way to Miami.

He watched its shadow, scaring the schools of flying fish. It must be very strange in an airplane,

he thought. I wonder what the sea looks like from that height. They should be able to see

the fish well if they do not fly too high. I would like to fly very slowly at 200 fathoms high,

and see the fish from above. Just before it was dark, a dolphin got caught on his small line.

He saw it first when it jumped in the air. It was gold, bending, and flapping wildly in the air.

The old man went to the back of the stern, and holding the big line with his right hand and

arm, he pulled the dolphin in with his left hand. The old man unhooked the dolphin and

rebated the line with another sardine. He went back to the bow. He shifted the heavy line from

his right hand to his left, and watched the sun go into the ocean. Watching the movement of the

water, he noted that the fish was now much slower. The sun was setting. The old man let his hand dry

in the air, and then grasped the line with it. How do you feel fish? He asked aloud. I feel good,

and my left hand is better. And I have food for a night and day. Pull the boat fish. He did not

truly feel good, because the pain from the cord across his back had turned into numbness.

But I have had worse things than that, he thought.

It was dark now, as it becomes dark quickly after the sun sets in September.

He lay against the wood of the bow and rested. The first stars were out.

The fish is my friend, he said aloud. I have never seen or heard of such a fish,

but I must kill him. Then he was sorry for the great fish that had nothing to eat,

and his determination to kill him never lessened in his sorrow for him. How many people will he feed,

he thought? But are they worthy to eat him? No, of course not. There is no one worthy of eating him.

Then he thought about the dolphin. No matter what happens, I must gut the dolphin,

so he does not go bad and eats some of him to be strong. He rested for what he believed to be two

hours. The moon did not rise now until late, and he had no way of telling the time.

But you have not slept yet, old man, he said aloud. It is half a day and a night and now

another day, and you have not slept. You must find a way to sleep a little if the fish is quiet and

steady. If you do not sleep, you might become unclear in the head.

He decided to go back to the stern now and prepare the dolphin before he slept.

He started to move towards the back on his knees and legs, being careful not to disturb the fish.

He may be half asleep, he thought. But I do not want him to rest. He must pull until he dies.

Back in the stern, he took his knife out. The stars were bright now, so he could see the dolphin clearly.

He pulled him out. Carefully, he gutted him, dropping the guts and gills over the stern.

There were two flying fish inside the dolphin. Then he skinned the dolphin,

first one side of him, then the other. He cut two fillets off from each side.

Back in the bow, he laid the two fillets of the dolphin and the flying fish on the wood.

Then he settled the line across his shoulders in a new place. He leaned over the side.

He is getting tired, or he is resting, the old man said. Now let me eat this dolphin and get some rest and a little sleep.

Under the stars, and with the night colder, he ate half of one of the dolphin fillets and one of the flying fish.

What an excellent fish dolphin is to eat cooked, he said. And what an awful fish to eat raw.

I will never go in a boat again without salt or limes.

The sky was clouding over to the east, and one after another, the stars were gone.

There will be bad weather in three or four days, he said, but not tonight or tomorrow.

He held the line tight in his right hand. Then he passed the line a little lower on his shoulders

and braced his left hand on it.

Even if I sleep twenty minutes or half an hour, it is good, he thought.

He lay forward against the line, and he was asleep.

He did not dream of the lions, but of a school of porpoises that jumped high in the air and

returned into the water. Then he dreamed he was in the village, lying on his bed,

he was very cold and his right arm was asleep because his head had rested on it.

After that, he began to dream of the long yellow beach and saw one of the lions come down

in the early dark. Then the other lions came.

He waited to see if there would be more lions, and he was happy.

The moon had been up for a long time, but he slept on, and the fish pulled steadily.

He woke up. His right hand had been suddenly pulled, and it hit against his face.

The line was burning through his right hand. He had no feeling on his left hand,

but he did his best to find the line and lean against it.

His left hand was taking all the strain and cutting badly.

Just then the fish jumped, making a great bursting of the ocean and then a heavy fall.

Then he jumped again and again, and the boat was going fast.

The old man was raising the strain at breaking point.

This was what we waited for, he thought.

So now let us take it.

He could only hear the breaking of the ocean as the fish jumped out of the water,

and the heavy splash as he fell. The line was cutting his hands badly.

If the boy were here, he would help me, he thought.

Yes, if the boy were here, if the boy were here, the line was slowing now.

The old man was on his knees, and then he rose slowly to his feet.

Yes, he thought. And now he has jumped more than a dozen times,

and filled the sacks on his back with air, so he cannot go down deep to die.

He will start circling soon, and then I can deal with him.

I wonder what started him so suddenly.

Could it have been hunger that made him desperate, or was he frightened by something in the dark?

But he was such a calm, strong fish, and he seemed fearless and so confident.

It is strange. After some time passed, the old man felt he was not clear -headed,

and thought he should eat some more of the dolphin.

But he thought he could not eat it because of nausea, so instead he ate the other flying fish.

Now I have done what I can, he thought. Let the fight come.

The sun was rising for the third time since he had set off on this journey.

Then the fish started to circle. He felt that the line was loosened a little.

He pulled in line steadily and gently.

It is a very big circle, he said.

Now I must convince him, and then I must kill him.

Two hours passed, and the big fish kept on circling slowly.

And the old man was wet with sweat and tired to his bones.

For an hour, the old man had been seeing black spots before his eyes,

and the sweat salted his eyes, and salted the cut below his eye and on his forehead.

He was not afraid of the black spots, but he had felt faint and dizzy twice,

and that had worried him.

I could not fail myself and die on a fish like this, he said.

Now that I have him coming so beautifully, God help me to endure.

Just then, he felt a sudden banging and pulling on the line he held with his two hands.

It was sharp, heavy, and feeling hard.

He is hitting the wire with his spear. He had to do that. It would make him jump though.

Don't jump, fish, he said. Don't jump.

After a while, the fish stopped hitting the wire and started circling slowly again.

The old man felt faint again.

He lifted some seawater with his left hand and put it on his head.

I have no cramps, he said. I can last. I have to last.

He kneeled against the bow.

I'll rest now while he goes out on the circle, and then I'll stand up and work on him, he decided.

I'm more tired than I have ever been, he thought.

I'll rest on the next turn, he said. Then in two or three turns more, I will have him.

It was on the third turn that he saw the fish.

He saw him first as a dark shadow that took so long to pass under the boat that he could not believe its length.

No, he said. He can't be that big.

But he was that big, and when he came to the surface only 30 yards away, the man saw his tail out of the water.

It was higher than a big blade and a very pale lavender above the dark blue water.

It swam just below the surface, and the old man could see his huge bulk and the purple stripes that banded him.

His dorsal fin was down, and his pectoral fins were spread wide.

The old man could see the fish's eye and the two gray sucking fish that swam around him.

The old man was sweating now, but from something else besides the sun.

On every turn the fish was coming closer, and he was sure that in two more turns he would have a chance to get the harpoon in.

But I must get him close, close, close, he thought. I mustn't try for the head, I must get the heart.

Be calm and strong, old man, he said.

The fish was coming in on the third circle, calm and beautiful looking, and only his great tail moving.

The old man pulled on him with all his strength to bring him closer.

For just a moment the fish turned a little on his side.

Then he straightened himself, and began another circle.

I moved him, the old man said. I moved him.

He felt faint again now, but he held on the great fish.

Maybe this time I can get him over, he thought.

Pull hands, he thought. Hold up legs, last for me, head, last for me.

You never went. This time I'll pull him over.

He pulled with all his strength, but the fish pulled too and swam away.

Fish, the old man said. Fish, you are going to have to die anyway. Do you have to kill me too?

On the next turn he nearly had him, but again the fish righted himself and swam slowly away.

You are killing me, fish, the old man thought. But you have a right too.

Never have I seen a greater or more beautiful or calmer or more noble thing than you, brother.

Come on and kill me. I do not care who kills who. Now you are getting confused in the head,

he thought. Keep your head clear and know how to suffer like a man, or a fish, he thought.

Clear up head, he said in a voice he could hardly hear. Clear up.

Twice more it was the same on the turns. He had been on the point of letting go,

but I will try it once more. And then two more times he tried and the fish

righted himself and swam off each time. I will try once again.

He took all his pain and what was left of his strength and his long gone pride

and he put it against the fish's pain. The fish came over to his side and swam there

gently. The old man dropped the line and put his foot on it and lifted the harpoon as high as he could.

He drove it down with all his strength into the fish's side just behind the great chest fin.

He felt the iron go in and he leaned on it and pushed it further and then pushed all his weight

after it. Then the fish came alive with his death in him and rose out of the water.

He was showing all his great length and width and all his power and beauty.

He seemed to hang in the air above the old man in this gift. Then he fell into the water with a

crash that sent spray over the old man and the boat.