“You did not do so badly for something worthless,”he said to his left hand.“But there was a moment when I could not find you.”
“I have no cramps.”he said.“ He'll be up soon and I can last.You have to last.Don't even speak of it.”
After he judged that his right hand had been in the water long enough he took it out and looked at it.
“I'll just steer south and west.”he said.“A man is never lost at sea and it is a long island.”
The old man felt faint and sick and he could not see well. But he cleared the harpoon line and let it run slowly through his raw hands and,when he could see,he saw the fish was on his back with his silver belly up.The shaft of the harpoon was projecting at an angle from the fish's shoulder and the sea was discoloring with the red of the blood from his heart.First it was dark as a shoal in the blue water that was more than a mile deep.Then it spread like a cloud.The fish was silver and still and floated with the waves.
After that he began to dream of the long yellow beach and he saw the first of the lions come down onto it in the early dark and then the other lions came and he rested his chin on the wood of the bows where the ship lay anchored with the evening off-shore breeze and he waited to see if there would be more lions and he was happy.