bonito appear, both eels and rock-cod change their normal habits, and entering the lagoons through the passages thereto, they take up their quarters in the deeper parts—­places which are fringed by a labyrinthine border of coral forest, and are at most ten fathoms deep.  Here, when the atuli are covering the surface above, the eels and rock-cod actually rise to the surface and play havoc among them, especially during moonlight nights, and in the daytime both rock-cod and eels may be seen pursuing their hapless prey in the very shallowest water, amidst the little pools and runnels of the coral reef.  It is at this time that the natives of Nukufetau and some other islands have some glorious sport, for in addition to the huge eels and rock-cod many other deep-sea fish flock into the shallower lagoon waters—­all in pursuit of the atuli—­and all eager to take the hook.

* * * * *

As soon as the natives had left the house, Mareko turned to me with a beaming smile.  “Let them go on first and net some atuli for us for bait,” he said, “you and I shall follow in my own canoe and fish for gatala.  It will be a great thing for one of us to catch the first gatala of the season.  Yesterday, when I was over there,” pointing to two tiny islets within the lagoon, “I saw some gatala.  The natives laugh at me and say I am mistaken—­that because the atuli had not come there could be no gatala.  Now, I think that the big fish came in some days ago, but the strong wind and current kept the atuli outside till now.  Come.”

I needed no pressing.  In five minutes I had my basket of lines (of white American cotton) ready, and joined Mareko.  His canoe (the best on the island, of course) was already in the water and manned by his two sons, boys of eight and twelve respectively.  I sat for’ard, the two youngsters amidships, the father took the post of honour as tautai or steersman, and with a chuckle of satisfaction from the boys, off we went in the wake of about thirty other canoes.

Oh, the delight of urging a light canoe over the glassy water of an island lagoon, and watching the changing colours and strange, grotesque shapes of the coral trees and plants of the garden beneath as they vanish swiftly astern, and the quick chip, chip of the flashing paddles sends the whirling, noisy eddies to right and left, and frights the lazy, many-hued rock-fish into the darker depths beneath!  On, on, till the half mile or more of shallow water which covers the inner reef is passed, and then suddenly you shoot over the top of the submarine wall, into deepest, loveliest blue, full thirty fathoms deep, and as calm and quiet as an infant sleeping on its mother’s bosom, though perhaps not a quarter of a mile away on either hand the long rollers of the Pacific are bellowing and thundering on the grim black shelves of the weather coast.