the boat up and made her fast, and, in
bathing shoes, started on a paddling expedition. Such a paddle it was,
too, over the coral, the surf breaking far above our heads, and the
underflow, though only a few inches deep, nearly carrying me and the
children off our legs! There were one or two native fishermen walking
along the reef, whipping the water; but they appeared to have caught
only a few small rock-fish, pretty enough to look at, but not
apparently good to eat.

The shades of night compelled us to return to the yacht, laden with
corals of many different species. After dinner the bay was illuminated
by the torches of the native fishermen, in canoes, on the reef. Tom
and I went to look at them, but did not see them catch anything. Each
canoe contained at least three people, one of whom propelled the boat,
another stood up waving about a torch dipped in some resinous
substance, which threw a strong light on the water, while the third
stood in the bows, armed with a spear, made of a bundle of wires, tied
to a long pole, not at all unlike a gigantic egg-whip, with all its
loops cut into points. This is aimed with great dexterity at the fish,
who are either transfixed or jammed between the prongs. The fine
figures of the natives, lighted up by the flickering torches, and
standing out in bold relief against the dark blue starlit sky, would
have served as models for the sculptors of ancient Greece.

_Sunday, December 3rd_.--At a quarter to five this morning some of us
landed to see the market, this being the great day when the natives
come in from the country and surrounding villages, by sea and by land,
in boats, or on horseback, to sell their produce, and buy necessaries
for the coming week. We walked through the shady streets to the two
covered market buildings, partitioned across with great bunches of
oranges, plantains, and many-coloured vegetables, hung on strings. The
mats, beds, and pillows still lying about suggested the idea that the
salesmen and women had passed the night amongst their wares. The gaily
attired, good-looking, flower-decorated crowd, of some seven or eight
hundred people, all chatting and laughing, and some staring at us--but
not rudely--looked much more like a chorus of opera-singers, dressed
for their parts in some grand spectacle, than ordinary market-going
peasants. Whichever way one turned, the prospect was an animated and
attractive one. Here, beneath the shade of large, smooth, light-gree