Some time before daylight something took one of the baits that were behind him.He heard the stick break and the line begin to rush out over the gunwale of the skiff.In the darkness he loosened his sheath knife and taking all the strain of the fish on his left shoulder he leaned back and cut the line against the wood of the gunwale.Then he cut the other line closest to him and in the dark made the loose ends of the reserve coils fast.He worked skillfully with the one hand and put his foot on the coils to hold them as he drew his knots tight.Now he had six reserve coils of line.There were two from each bait he had severed and the two from the bait the fish had taken and they were all connected.
I wonder what he made that lurch for,he thought.The wire must have slipped on the hill of his back.Certainly his back cannot feel as badly as mine does.But he cannot pull this skiff forever,no matter how great he is.Now everything is cleared away that might make trouble and I have a big reserve of line;all that a man can ask.
It will uncramp though, he thought. Surely it will uncramp to help my right hand.There are three things that are brothers:the fish and my two hands.It must uncramp.It is unworthy of it to be cramped.The fish had slowed again and was going at his usual pace.