Maybe if I can increase the tension just a little it will hurt him and he will jump, he thought. Now that it is daylight let him jump so that he'll fill the sacks along his backbone with air and then he cannot go deep to die. He tired to increase the tension, but the line had been taut up to the very edge of the breaking point since he had hooked the fish and he felt the harshness as he leaned back to pull and knew he could put no more strain on it. I must not jerk it ever, he though. Each jerk widens the cut the hook makes and then when he does jump he might throw it.

The current will have set us far to the eastward, he thought. I wish he would turn with the current. That would show that he was tiring. When the sun had risen further the old man realized that the fish was not tiring. There was only one favorable sign. The slant of the line showed he was swimming at a lesser depth. That did not necessarily mean that he would jump. But he might. "God let him jump," the old man said. "I have enough line to handle him."

Anyway I feel better with the sun and for once I do not have to look into it. There was yellow weed on the line but the old man knew that only made an added drag and he was pleased. It was the yellow Gulf weed that had made so much phosphorescence in the night. "Fish," he said. "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends." Let us hope so, he thought. A small bird came toward the skiff from the north. He was a warbler and flying very low over the water. The old man could see that he was very tired.

The bird made the stern of the boat and rested there. Then he flew around the old man's head and rested on the line where he was more comfortable. "How old are you?" the old man asked the bird. "Is this your first trip?" The bird looked at him when he spoke. He was too tired even to examine the line and he teetered on it as his delicate feet gripped it fast. "It's steady," the old man told him. "It's too steady. You shouldn't be that tired after a windless night. What are birds coming to?"