‘I don't think I can eat an entire one,'he said and drew his knife across one of the strips.He could feel the steady hard pull of the line and his left hand was cramped.It drew up tight on the heavy cord and he looked at it in disgust.
‘What kind of a hand is that,'he said.‘Cramp then if you want.Make yourself into a claw.It will do you no good.'
Come on,he thought and looked down into the dark water at the slant of the line.Eat it now and it will strengthen the hand.It is not the hand's fault and you have been many hours with the fish.But you can stay with him for ever.Eat the bonito now.
He picked up a piece and put it in his mouth and chewed it slowly.It was not unpleasant.
Chew it well,he thought,and get all the juices.It would not be bad to eat with a little lime or with lemon or with salt.
‘How do you feel,hand?'he asked the cramped hand that was almost as stiff as rigor mortis.‘I'll eat some more for you.'
He ate the other part of the piece that he had cut in two.He chewed it carefully and then spat out the skin.
‘How does it go,hand?Or is it too early to know?'
He took another full piece and chewed it.
It is a strong full blooded fish,he thought.I was lucky to get him instead of dolphin.Dolphin is too sweet.This is hardly sweet at all and all the strength is still in it.
There is no sense in being anything but practical though,he thought.I wish I had some salt.And I do not know whether the sun will rot or dry what is left,so I had better eat it all although I am not hungry.The fish is calm and steady.I will eat it all and then I will be ready.
‘Be patient,hand,'he said.‘I do this for you.'
I wish I could feed the fish,he thought.He is my brother.But I must kill him and keep strong to do it.Slowly and conscientiously he ate all of the wedge shaped strips of fish.
He straightened up,wiping his hand on his trousers.
‘Now,'he said.‘You can let the cord go,hand,and I will handle him with the right arm alone until you stop that nonsense.'He put his left foot on the heavy line that the left hand had held and lay back against the pull against his back.
‘God help me to have the cramp go,'he said.‘Because I do not know what the fish is going to do.'
But he seems calm,he thought,and following his plan.But what is his plan,he thought.And what is mine?Mine I must improvise to his because of his great size.If he will jump I can kill him.But he stays down for ever.Then I will stay down with him for ever.
He rubbed the cramped hand against his trousers and tried to gentle the fingers.But it would not open.Maybe it will open with the sun,he thought.Maybe it will open when the strong raw tuna is digested.If I have to have it,I will open it,cost whatever it costs.But I do not want to open it now by force.Let it open by itself and come back of its own accord.After all I abused it much in the night when it was necessary to free and unite the various lines.
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.
He thought of how some men feared being out of sight of land in a small boat and knew they were right in the months of sudden bad weather.But now they were in hurricane months and,when there are no hurricanes,the weather of hurricane months is the best of all the year.
If there is a hurricane you always see the signs of it in the sky for days ahead,if you are at sea.They do not see it ashore because they do not know what to look for,he thought.The land must make a difference too,in the shape of the clouds.But we have no hurricane coming now.
He looked at the sky and saw the white cumulus built like friendly piles of ice cream and high above were the thin feathers of the cirrus against the high September sky.
‘Light brisa,'he said.‘Better weather for me than for you,fish.'
His left hand was still cramped,but he was unknotting it slowly.
I hate a cramp,he thought.It is a treachery of one's own body.It is humiliating before others to have a diarrha from ptomaine poisoning or to vomit from it.But a cramp,he thought of it as a calambre,humiliates oneself especially when one is alone.
If the boy were here he could rub it for me and loosen it down from the forearm,he thought.But it will loosen up.
Then,with his right hand he felt the difference in the pull of the line before he saw the slant change in the water.Then,as he leaned against the line and slapped his left hand hard and fast against his thigh he saw the line slanting slowly upward.
‘He's coming up,'he said.‘Come on hand.Please come on.'
The line rose slowly and steadily and then the surface of the ocean bulged ahead of the boat and the fish came out.He came out unendingly and water poured from his sides.He was bright in the sun and his head and back were dark purple and in the sun the stripes on his sides showed wide and a light lavender.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,smoothly,like a diver and the old man saw the great scythe blade 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 more noble and more able.
