The Old Man and the Sea Page #3

down, down, down...

... unrolling off the first

of the two reserve coils.

This far out, he must be huge in this month.

Eat them, fish. Eat them.

Please eat them.

How fresh they are...

...and you down deep

in that cold water in the dark.

Come on, now.

Make another turn.

Then eat them. Just smell the sardines.

Then there is the tuna...

...cold and hard and lovely.

Come on, fish. Eat them.

Don't be shy.

He'll take it.

God help him to take it.

He can't have gone.

God knows he can't have gone.

He must be making another turn.

Perhaps he has been hooked before,

and he remembers part of it.

He was just turning. He's going to take it.

What a fish!

Now he has it sideways in his mouth...

...and he's going away with it.

As it went down, slipping lightly through

the old man's fingers...

... he could still feel the great weight...

... though the pressure of his thumb

and finger were almost imperceptible.

He's taken it.

Now let him eat it.

Eat it good, now, fish.

Go on, eat it.

Eat it until the point of the hook

goes into your heart and kills you...

...then come up nice and easy

and let me put the harpoon into you.

Now, are you ready?

Have you been long enough at table?

Now the fish was struck, and the old man

could feel that he was hooked.

Now he should run with the line or jump

or sound to the depths below...

... but nothing happened.

The fish just moved away slowly...

... and the old man could not

raise him an inch.

His line was strong

and made for heavy fish...

... and he held it until it was so taut

that beads of water were jumping from it.

Then the boat began to move...

... slowly off toward the northwest.

The old man leaned back against the pull.

The fish moved steadily, and they

traveled slowly on the calm water.

The other baits were still in the water,

but there was nothing to be done.

This will kill him.

He can't keep this up forever.

But four hours later, the fish was still

swimming steadily out to sea...

... towing the skiff, and the old man

was still braced solidly.

"What a fish to pull like that!" he thought.

"He must have his mouth

shut tight on the wire.

I wish I could see him only once

to know what I have against me. "

There was no land in sight now.

"That makes no difference," he thought.

"I can always come in on the glare

off the lights from Havana. "

It was noon when I hooked him,

and I have not yet seen him.

I wish the boy was here.

I'm being towed by a fish,

and I am the towing bitt.

"What I will do if he decides to go down,

I don't know.

What I'll do if he sounds

and dives, I don't know.

I'll do something.

There are plenty of things I can do.

I could make the line fast, " he thought,

"but then he could break it.

I must hold him all I can and then

give him line when he must have it.

Thank God he is traveling

and not going down. "

It was cold after the sun went down...

... and the old man's sweat dried cold

on his back and his arms and his old legs.

"He didn't come up when the sun set,"

he thought.

"Maybe he will come up with the moon.

If he does not do that, maybe he will

come up with the sunrise.

I wish I could see him.

I wish I could see him only once

to know what I have against me. "

Two porpoises came round the boat,

he could hear them rolling and blowing.

He could tell the difference between

the noise the male made...

... and the sighing blow of the female.

"They're good," he thought.

"They play and make jokes

and love one another.

They are our brothers, like the flying fish. "

Then he began to pity the great fish

he had hooked.

"He is wonderful and strange," he thought.

"Who knows how old he is."

Never have I had such a strong fish...

...or one that acted so strangely.

Maybe he's too wise to jump.

He could ruin me with a jump.

Or one quick rush.

Maybe he has been hooked

many times before...

...and he knows this is how

he must make his fight.

He took the bait like a male.

He moves like a male.

There is no panic in his fight.

I wonder if he has a plan

or if he's just as desperate as I am.

I wish the boy was here.

The fish never changed his course

nor his direction all that night...

... as far as the old man could tell

from watching the stars.

He felt the strength of the great fish moving

steadily toward what he had chosen...

... and he thought,

"When once through my treachery...

... it had been necessary for him

to make a choice...

... his choice had been to stay

in the deep water...

... far out beyond all snares and traps

and treacheries.

My choice was to go there and find him

beyond all people.

Beyond all people in the world.

Now we are joined together

and have been since noon.

And no one to help either one of us. "

"I have lost 200 fathoms of good line

and hooks and leaders, " he thought.

"That can be replaced.

But who replaces this fish

if I hook some fish and it cuts him off?

I don't know what the fish was

that took the bait just now.

Could have been a marlin or a broadbill

or a shark. I never felt him.

I had to get rid of him too fast. "

"I wonder what he made that lurch for,"

he thought.

"The wire must have slipped

on the great hill of his back.

Certainly his back cannot

feel as badly as mine does...

... and he cannot pull this skiff forever...

... no matter how strong he is. "

"Please, God, let him jump.

Maybe if I can increase the tension a little

more, it will hurt him, and he will jump.

Let him jump so that he will fill the sacs

along his backbone with air...

... and then he cannot go deep to die. "

Fish, I love you

and I respect you very much...

...but I will kill you

before this day ends.

A small bird came toward the skiff

from the north.

He was a warbler

and flying very low over the water.

And the old man could see

that he was very tired.

Hey...

...how old are you?

Is this your first trip?

Why are you so tired?

What are birds coming to anyway?

"The hawks," he thought,

"that come out to sea to meet them."

But he said nothing of this to the bird,

who could not understand him anyway...

... and who'd learn about the hawks

soon enough.

It is all right, small bird.

You rest for a minute.

But then you must go in, and you must

take your chances like every man...

...and every fish and every bird must do.

I wish I could hoist my sail and take you in

with the small breeze that's rising...

...but I'm with a friend.

Something hurt him.

You're feeling it now, fish.

And so, God knows, am I.

"How did I let the fish cut me with one pull

he made?" the old man thought.

"I must be getting very stupid.

I better pay attention to my work.

And then I must eat the bonito

so I will not have a failure of strength.

I wish the boy was here to cut up

the bonito, and I wish I had some salt.

I don't think I can eat an entire one. "

What kind of a hand is that?

Go on. Cramp if you want to.

Make yourself into a claw.

It will do you no good.

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