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.
Then he dreamed that he was in the village on his bed and there was a norther and he was very cold and his right arm was asleep because his head had rested on it instead of a pillow.
I'm tireder than I have ever been,he thought,and now the trade wind is rising.But that will be good to take him in with.I need that badly.
But the fish kept on circling slowly and the old man was wet with sweat and tired deep into his bones two hours later. But the circles were much shorter now and from the way the line slanted he could tell the fish had risen steadily while he swam.
He tried it once more and he felt himself going when he turned the fish.The fish righted himself and swam off again slowly with the great tail weaving in the air.