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第6章 Tired of the Old Man（第1页）

Itwasgettingintotheafternoonandtheboatstillmovedslowlyandsteadily.Buttherewasanaddeddragnowfromtheeasterlybreezeandtheoldmanrodegentlywiththesmallseaandthehurtofthecordacrosshisbackcametohimeasilyandsmoothly.

Onceintheafternoonthelinestartedtoriseagain.Butthefishonlycontinuedtoswimataslightlyhigherlevel.Thesunwasontheoldmansleftarmandshoulderandonhisback.Soheknewthefishhadturnedeastofnorth.

Nowthathehadseenhimonce，hecouldpicturethefishswimminginthewaterwithhispurplepectoralfinssetwideaswingsandthegreaterecttailslicingthroughthedark.Iwonderhowmuchheseesatthatdepth，theoldmanthought.Hiseyeishugeandahorse，withmuchlesseye，canseeinthedark.OnceIcouldseequitewellinthedark.Notintheabsolutedark.Butalmostasacatsees.

Thesunandhissteadymovementofhisfingershaduncrampedhislefthandnowcompletelyandhebegantoshiftmoreofthestraintoitandheshruggedthemusclesofhisbacktoshiftthehurtofthecordalittle.

“Ifyourenottired，fish，”

hesaidaloud，“youmustbeverystrange.”

Hefeltverytirednowandheknewthenightwouldcomesoonandhetriedtothinkofotherthings.HethoughtoftheBigLeagues，tohimtheyweretheGranLigas，andheknewthattheYankeesofNewYorkwereplayingtheTigresofDetroit.

ThisistheseconddaynowthatIdonotknowtheresultofthejuegos，hethought.ButImusthaveconfidenceandImustbeworthyofthegreatDiMaggiowhodoesallthingsperfectlyevenwiththepainofthebonespurinhisheel.Whatisabonespur?Heaskedhimself.Unespueladehueso.Wedonothavethem.Canitbeaspainfulasthespurofafightingcockinonesheel?IdonotthinkIcouldendurethatorthelossoftheeyeandofbotheyesandcontinuetofightasthefightingcocksdo.Manisnotmuchbesidethegreatbirdsandbeasts.StillIwouldratherbethatbeastdownthereinthedarknessofthesea.

“Unlesssharkscome，”

hesaidaloud.“Ifsharkscome，Godpityhimandme.”

DoyoubelievethegreatDiMaggiowouldstaywithafishaslongasIwillstaywiththisone?Hethought.Iamsurehewouldandmoresinceheisyoungandstrong.Alsohisfatherwasafisherman.Butwouldthebonespurhurthimtoomuch?

“Idonotknow，”

hesaidaloud.“Ineverhadabonespur.”

Asthesunsetheremembered，togivehimselfmoreconfidence，thetimeinthetavernatCasablancawhenhehadplayedthehandgamewiththegreatnegrofromCienfuegoswhowasthestrongestmanonthedocks.Theyhadgoneonedayandonenightwiththeirelbowsonachalklineonthetableandtheirforearmsstraightupandtheirhandsgrippedtight.Eachonewastryingtoforcetheothershanddownontothetable.Therewasmuchbettingandpeoplewentinandoutoftheroomunderthekerosenelightsandhehadlookedatthearmandhandofthenegroandatthenegrosface.Theychangedtherefereeseveryfourhoursafterthefirsteightsothattherefereescouldsleep.Bloodcameoutfromunderthefingernailsofbothhisandthenegroshandsandtheylookedeachotherintheeyeandattheirhandsandforearmsandthebettorswentinandoutoftheroomandsatonhighchairsagainstthewallandwatched.Thewallswerepaintedbrightblueandwereofwoodandthelampsthrewtheirshadowsagainstthem.Thenegrosshadowwashugeanditmovedonthewallasthebreezemovedthelamps.

Theoddswouldchangebackandforthallnightandtheyfedthenegrorumandlightedcigarettesforhim.ThentheNegro，aftertherum，wouldtryforatremendouseffortandoncehehadtheoldman，whowasnotanoldmanthenbutwasSantiagoElCampeon，nearlythreeinchesoffbalance.Buttheoldmanhadraisedhishanduptodeadevenagain.Hewassurethenthathehadthenegro，whowasafinemanandagreatathlete，beaten.Andatdaylightwhenthebettorswereaskingthatitbecalledadrawandtherefereewasshakinghishead，hehadunleashedhiseffortandforcedthehandofthenegrodownanddownuntilitrestedonthewood.ThematchhadstartedonaSundaymorningandendedonaMondaymorning.ManyofthebettorshadaskedforadrawbecausetheyhadtogotoworkonthedocksloadingsacksofsugarorattheHavanaCoalCompany.Otherwiseeveryonewouldhavewantedittogotoafinish.Buthehadfinisheditanywayandbeforeanyonehadtogotowork.

ForalongtimeafterthateveryonehadcalledhimTheChampionandtherehadbeenareturnmatchinthespring.ButnotmuchmoneywasbetandhehadwonitquiteeasilysincehehadbrokentheconfidenceofthenegrofromCienfuegosinthefirstmatch.Afterthathehadafewmatchesandthennomore.Hedecidedthathecouldbeatanyoneifhewantedtobadlyenoughandhedecidedthatitwasbadforhisrighthandforfishing.Hehadtriedafewpracticematcheswithhislefthand.Buthislefthandhadalwaysbeenatraitorandwouldnotdowhathecalledonittodoandhedidnottrustit.

Thesunwillbakeitoutwellnow，hethought.Itshouldnotcramponmeagainunlessitgetstoocoldinthenight.Iwonderwhatthisnightwillbring.

AnairplanepassedoverheadonitscoursetoMiamiandhewatcheditsshadowscaringuptheschoolsofflyingfish.

“Withsomuchflyingfishthereshouldbedolphin，”

hesaid，andleanedbackonthelinetoseeifitwaspossibletogainanyonhisfish.Buthecouldnotanditstayedatthehardnessandwaterdropshiveringthatprecededbreaking.Theboatmovedaheadslowlyandhewatchedtheairplaneuntilhecouldnolongerseeit.

Itmustbeverystrangeinanairplane，hethought.Iwonderwhatthesealookslikefromthatheight?Theyshouldbeabletoseethefishwelliftheydonotflytoohigh.Iwouldliketoflyveryslowlyattwohundredfathomshighandseethefishfromabove.IntheturtleboatsIwasinthecross-treesofthemast-headandevenatthatheightIsawmuch.Thedolphinlookgreenerfromthereandyoucanseetheirstripesandtheirpurplespotsandyoucanseealloftheschoolastheyswim.Whyisitthatallthefast-movingfishofthedarkcurrenthavepurplebacksandusuallypurplestripesorspots?Thedolphinlooksgreenofcoursebecauseheisreallygolden.Butwhenhecomestofeed，trulyhungry，purplestripesshowonhissidesasonamarlin.Canitbeanger，orthegreaterspeedhemakesthatbringsthemout?

Justbeforeitwasdark，astheypassedagreatislandofSargassoweedthatheavedandswunginthelightseaasthoughtheoceanweremakinglovewithsomethingunderayellowblanket，hissmalllinewastakenbyadolphin.Hesawitfirstwhenitjumpedintheair，truegoldinthelastofthesunandbendingandflappingwildlyintheair.Itjumpedagainandagainintheacrobaticsofitsfearandheworkedhiswaybacktothesternandcrouchingandholdingthebiglinewithhisrighthandandarm，hepulledthedolphininwithhislefthand，steppingonthegainedlineeachtimewithhisbareleftfoot.Whenthefishwasatthestern，plungingandcuttingfromsidetosideindesperation，theoldmanleanedoverthesternandliftedtheburnishedgoldfishwithitspurplespotsoverthestern.Itsjawswereworkingconvulsivelyinquickbitesagainstthehookanditpoundedthebottomoftheskiffwithitslongflatbody，itstailanditsheaduntilheclubbeditacrosstheshininggoldenheaduntilitshiveredandwasstill.

Theoldmanunhookedthefish，rebaitedthelinewithanothersardineandtosseditover.Thenheworkedhiswayslowlybacktothebow.Hewashedhislefthandandwipeditonhistrousers.Thenheshiftedtheheavylinefromhisrighthandtohisleftandwashedhisrighthandintheseawhilehewatchedthesungointotheoceanandtheslantofthebigcord.

“Hehasntchangedatall，”

hesaid.Butwatchingthemovementofthewateragainsthishandhenoticedthatitwasperceptiblyslower.

“Illlashthetwooarstogetheracrossthesternandthatwillslowhiminthenight，”

hesaid.“HesgoodforthenightandsoamI.”

Itwouldbebettertogutthedolphinalittlelatertosavethebloodinthemeat，hethought.Icandothatalittlelaterandlashtheoarstomakeadragatthesametime.Ihadbetterkeepthefishquietnowandnotdisturbhimtoomuchatsunset.Thesettingofthesunisadifficulttimeforallfish.

Helethishanddryintheairthengraspedthelinewithitandeasedhimselfasmuchashecouldandallowedhimselftobepulledforwardagainstthewoodsothattheboattookthestrainasmuch，ormore，thanhedid.

Imlearninghowtodoit，hethought.Thispartofitanyway.Thentoo，rememberhehasnteatensincehetookthebaitandheishugeandneedsmuchfood.Ihaveeatenthewholebonito.TomorrowIwilleatthedolphin.Hecalleditdorado.PerhapsIshouldeatsomeofitwhenIcleanit.Itwillbehardertoeatthanthebonito.But，then，nothingiseasy.