I'm learning how to do it,he thought.This part of it anyway.Then too,remember he hasn't eaten since he took the bait and he is huge and needs much food.I have eaten the whole bonito.Tomorrow I will eat the dolphin.He called it dorado.Perhaps I should eat some of it when I clean it.It will be harder to eat than the bonito.But,then,nothing is easy.
“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 a day.Pull the boat,fish.”
He did not truly feel good because the pain from the cord across his back had almost passed pain and gone into a dullness that he mistrusted.But I have had worse things than that,he thought.My hand is only cut a little and the cramp is gone from the other.My legs are all right.Also now I have gained on him in the question of sustenance.
It was dark now as it becomes dark quickly after the sun sets in September.He lay against the worn wood of the bow and rested all that he could.The first stars were out.He did not know the name of Rigel but he saw it and knew soon they would all be out and he would have all his distant friends.
“The fish is my friend too,”he said aloud.“ I have never seen or heard of such a fish.But I must kill him.I am glad we do not have to try to kill the stars.”
Imagine if each day a man must try to kill the moon,he thought.The moon runs away.But imagine if a man each day should have to try to kill the sun?We were born lucky,he thought.
Then he was sorry for the great fish that had nothing to eat and his determination to kill him never relaxed 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 from the manner of his behavior and his great dignity.
I do not understand these things,he thought.But it is good that we do not have to try to kill the sun or the moon or the stars.It is enough to live on the sea and kill our true brothers.
Now,he thought,I must think about the drag.It has its perils and its merits.I may lose so much line that I will lose him,if he makes his effort and the drag made by the oars is in place and the boat loses all her lightness.Her lightness prolongs both our suffering but it is my safety since he has great speed that he has never yet employed.No matter what passes must gut the dolphin so he does not spoil and eat some of him to be strong.
Now I will rest an hour more and feel that he is solid and steady before I move back to the stern to do the work and make the decision.In the meantime can see how he acts and if he shows any changes.The oars are a good trick;but it has reached the time to play for safety.He is much fish still and I saw that the hook was in the corner of his mouth and he has kept his mouth tight shut.The punishment of the hook is nothing.The punishment of hunger,and that he is against something that he does not comprehend,is everything.Rest now,old man,and let him work until your next duty comes.
He rested for what he believed to be two hours. The moon did not rise now until late and he had no way of judging the time. Nor was he really resting except comparatively.He was still bearing the pull of the fish across his shoulders but he placed his left hand on the gunwale of the bow and confided more and more of the resistance to the fish to the skiff itself.
How simple it would be if I could make the line fast,he thought.But with one small lurch he could break it.I must cushion the pull of the line with my body and at all times be ready to give line with both hands.
“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 devise a way so that you sleep a little if he is quiet and steady.If you do not sleep you might become unclear in the head.”
I'm clear enough in the head,he thought.Too clear. I am as clear as the stars that are my brothers.Still I must sleep.They sleep and the moon and the sun sleep and even the ocean sleeps sometimes on certain days when there is no current and a flat calm.
But remember to sleep,he thought.Make yourself do it and devise some simple and sure way about the lines.Now go back and prepare the dolphin.It is too dangerous to rig the oars as a drag if you must sleep.
I could go without sleeping,he told himself.But it would be too dangerous.
He started to work his way back to the stern on his hands and knees,being careful not to jerk against the fish.He may be half asleep himself,he thought.
But I do not want him to rest.He must pull until he dies.
Back in the stern he turned so that his left hand held the strain of the line across his shoulders and drew his knife from its sheath with his right hand.The stars were bright now and he saw the dolphin clearly and he pushed the blade of his knife into his head and drew him out from under the stern.He put one of his feet on the fish and slit him quickly from the vent up to the tip of his lower jaw.Then he put his knife down and gutted him with his right hand,scooping him clean and pulling the gills clear.He felt the maw heavy and slippery in his hands and he slit it open.There were two flying fish inside.They were fresh and hard and he laid them side by side and dropped the guts and the gills over the stern. They sank leaving a trail of phosphorescence in the water. The dolphin was cold and a leprous gray-white now in the starlight and the old man skinned one side of him while he held his right foot on the fish's head.Then he turned him over and skinned the other side and cut each side off from the head down to the tail.
He slid the carcass overboard and looked to see if there was any swirl in the water.But there was only the light of its slow descent.He turned then and placed the two flying fish inside the two fillets of fish and putting his knife back in its sheath,he worked his way slowly back to the bow.His back was bent with the weight of the line across it and he carried the fish in his right hand.
Back in the bow he laid the two fillets of fish out on the wood with the flying fish beside them.After that he settled the line across his shoulders in a new place and held it again with his left hand resting on the gunwale.Then he leaned over the side and washed the flying fish in the water,noting the speed of the water against his hand.His hand was phosphorescent from skinning the fish and he watched the flow of the water against it. The flow was less strong and as he rubbed the sides of his hand against the planking of the skiff,particles of phosphorus floated off and drifted slowly astern.
“He is tiring or he is resting,”the old man said.“Now let me get through the eating of this dolphin and get some rest and a little sleep.”
Under the stars and with the night colder all the time he ate half of one of the dolphin fillets and one of the flying fish, gutted and with its head cut off.
“What an excellent fish dolphin is to eat cooked,”he said.“And what a miserable fish raw.I will never go in a boat again without salt or limes.”
If I had brains I would have splashed water on the bow all day and drying,it would have made salt,he thought.But then I did not hook the dolphin until almost sunset.Still it was a lack of preparation.But I have chewed it all well and I am not nauseated.
The sky was clouding over to the east and one after another the stars he knew were gone.It looked now as though he were moving into a great canyon of clouds and the wind had dropped.
