Islands, and had many interesting adventures there.
One of the most exciting was this encounter with a
swordfish, which he relates in a delightful manner.

Red Chicken became my special friend and guide,
and on one occasion it was our being together, perhaps,
saved his life, and afforded me one of the most thrilling
moments of my own.

He and I had gone in a canoe after nightfall to spear fish 5
outside the Bay of Virgins. Night fishing has its attractions
in these tropics, if only for the freedom from severe
heat, the glory of the moonlight or starlight, and the waking
dreams that come to one upon the sea, when the canoe rests
tranquil, the torch blazes, and the fish swim to meet the 10
harpoon. The night was moonless, but the sea was covered
with phosphorescence, sometimes a glittering expanse of
light, and again black as velvet except where our canoe
moved gently through a soft and glamorous surface of
sparkling jewels. A night for a lover, a lady, and a lute.

Our torch of coconut husks and reeds, seven feet high, 5
was fixed at the prow, so that it could be lifted up when
needed to attract the fish or better to light the canoe.
Red Chicken, in a scarlet pareu fastened tightly about
his loins, stood at the prow when we had reached his
favorite spot off a point of land, while I, with a paddle, 10
noiselessly kept the canoe as stationary as possible.

Light is a lure for many creatures of land and sea and
sky. The moth and the bat whirl about a flame; the sea
bird dashes its body against the bright glass of the lonely
tower; wild deer come to see what has disturbed the dark 15
of the forest; and fish of different kinds leap at a torch.
Red Chicken put a match to ours when we were all in readiness.
The brilliant gleam cleft the darkness and sent
across the blackness of the water a beam that was a challenge
to the curiosity of the dozing fish. They hastened 20
towards us, and Red Chicken made meat of those that came
within the radius of his harpoon, so that within an hour or
two our canoe was heaped with half a dozen kinds.

Far off in the path of the flambeau rays I saw the swordfish
leaping as they pursued small fish or gamboled for 25
sheer joy in the luminous air. They seemed to be in pairs.
I watched them lazily, with