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The old man knew better than to hold the line in his bare hands.
He had cleverly jammed an oar into the prow of the boat and then
wrapped the line around it.
Clever, but not clever enough. The fishing line burned through the
wood as the creature on the other end kept pulling farther and
farther away.
The old man, fearing that he would run out of line and lose his
catch, tied the end of the cord around his body and then held on for
the final struggle.
Seeing the old man's bold action, I jumped to the front of the
boat to help him. If there was going to be glory, I wanted my
share. I took hold of the rope alongside him and tugged at it, trying
to stop the fish's run.
Six-Finger Fiske ignored my effort. Instead, he shouted up to
the sky, "I've caught the Blood Sea Monster! I've got him, and I'll
never let him go!"
'I followed Six-Finger's gaze up into the heavens, but all I saw
were heavy, ominous clouds. That's when I realized our direction.
The great fish was pulling our boat straight toward the maelstrom!
If we didn't change direction soon, we'd be sucked into the whirl-
pool and perish at the bottom of the Blood Sea.
"We've got to turn it!" I cried. "Look where it's taking us!"
The old man heard me and understood what I meant. He took a
deep breath and pulled on the line with every ounce of strength in
his aged body. And I pulled right along with him.
The line suddenly went slack
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