rough water; also the insinuation that anything about fishing
was to be learnt from the new white man was annoying and uncalled for.

I must here mention that the natives of De Peyster's Island (Nukufetau)
caught all the fish they wanted in the smooth and spacious waters of the
lagoon, and were not fond of venturing outside the barrier reef, except
during the bonito season, or when the sea was very calm at night, to
catch flying-fish. Then, too, the currents outside the reef were swift
and dangerous, and the canoes had either to be carried a long distance
over the coral or paddled a couple of miles across the lagoon to the
ship passage before the open sea was gained. Hudson's Island
(Nanomaga)--a tiny spot less than four miles in circumference--had no
lagoon, and all fishing was done in the deep water of the ocean. The
natives were used to launching their canoes, year in and year out, to
face the wildest surf, and were, in consequence, wonderfully expert, and
in the history of the island there is only one instance of a man having
been drowned. The De Peyster people, by reason of the advantage of their
placid lagoon, had no reason to risk their lives in the surf in this
manner, and so, naturally enough, they were not nearly as skilful in the
management of their frail canoes when they had to face a sweeping sea on
the outer or ocean reef.

Just as I was placing some coils of heavy, deep-sea lines upon the
matted floor, Mareko the native teacher, fat, jovial, and
bubbling-voiced, entered in a great hurry, and hardly giving himself
time to shake hands with me, announced in a tone of triumph, that a body
of _atuli_ (baby bonito) had just entered the passage and were making
their way up the lagoon.

In less than ten seconds every man, woman, and child on the island,
except the teacher and myself, were agog with excitement and bawling and
shouting as they rushed to the beach to launch and man the canoes, the
advent of the _atuli_ having been expected for some days. In nearly all
the equatorial islands of the Pacific these beautiful little fish make
their appearance every year almost to a day, with unvarying regularity.
They remain in the smooth waters of lagoons for about two weeks,
swimming about in incredible numbers, and apparently so terrified of
their many enemies in their own element, and the savage, keen-eyed
frigate birds which constantly assail them from above, that they
sometimes crowd into small pools on the inner