But the third time he came to the surface and turned slowly on his side, the white belly and one red fin out of the water, the gills opening and shutting.

He was tired out.

A third time Blix drew him gently to the boat's side.

Condy reached out and down into the water till his very shoulder was wet, hooked two fingers under the distended gills, and with a long, easy movement of the arm swung him into the boat.
Their exultation was that of veritable children.

Condy whooped like an Apache, throwing his hat into the air; Blix was hardly articulate, her hands clasped, her hair in disarray, her eyes swimming with tears of sheer excitement.