
Giới thiệu truyện
BLACK BASS
H. DE VERE STACPOOLE
THE sea, surface-smooth, but under-run by a gentle swell, was breaking on the beach of Santa Catalina Island, and the roofs of Avalon were lit by the first rays of the morning sun. Avalon, facing the Californian coast, and tucked away in its little bay, is the fishing village where millionaires are the fishermen, and where kings of sport, like Colonel Moorhouse, von Hoffe, and Holder, may be seen walking about like ordinary folk, when not engaged in warfare with tuna, bass, yellow-tail, and the other kings of the sea.
The first fisherman down this morning was Colonel Calhoun. He was crossing the shingle to the sea-edge, carrying a rod, and followed by his gaffer and his boatman. He was walking with his son George, a good-looking young fellow of about twenty-two, black-haired, bright of eye, and kicking the shingle aside as he walked. The two men were evidently disputing about something, and the boatman and the gaffer, a long way behind, could catch, now and then on the sea wind, the voice of the Colonel and a few stray words. "No, suh! No, suh! Cut yourself adrift. She's a Pinckney! Not another word!" and then, loud enough to reach the plage, "You c
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