On the larger of the two islets were a few thatched huts with open sides.  One of these was reserved for the missionary and the white man, and hauling our canoe up on the beach at the invitation of the people, we sat down under a shed whilst the women grilled us some of the freshly-caught fish.  This took barely over ten minutes, as fires had already been lighted by the children.  The absence of bread was made up for by the flesh of half-grown coconuts and cooked puraka—­gigantic species of taro which thrives well in the sandy soil of the Equatorial islands of the Pacific.  Just as we had finished eating and were preparing our lines we heard loud cries from the natives who were still engaged among the atuli, and three or four of them seizing spears began chasing what were evidently some large fish.  Presently one of them darted his weapon, and then gave a loud cry of triumph, as he leapt into the water and dragged out a large salmon-like fish called “utu”, which was at once brought ashore for my inspection.  The man who had struck it—­an active, wiry old fellow named Viliamu (William) was panting with excitement.  Some large gatala, he said, had just made their appearance with the utu and were pursuing the small fish; therefore would we please hurry forward with our preparations.  Then the leader of the entire party stood up and bellowed out in bull-like tones his instructions.  The canoes were all to start together, and when the ground was reached all lines were to be lowered simultaneously; there was to be no crowding.  The white man and missionary, however, if they wished, could start first and make a choice of position.

“No, no,” I said, “let us all start fair.”

This was greeted with a chorus of approval, and then leaving the women and children to attend to the camp, we hurried back to the canoes.  Just as we were leaving the hut I had a look at the utu—­a fish I had never before seen.  It was about three feet in length, and only for its head (which was coarse and clumsy) much like a heavy salmon.  The back was covered with light green scales, the sides and belly a pure silver, and the fins and tail tipped with yellow.  It weighed about 20 lbs., and presented a very handsome appearance.

The fishing-ground to which we were now paddling was not half a mile from the islets, and lay between them and the outer reef which formed its northern boundary.  It consisted of a series of deep channels or connected pools running or situated amidst a network of minor reefs, the surfaces of which were, for the most part, bare at low water.  Generally the depth was from eight to ten fathoms; in places, however, it was much deeper, and I subsequently found that there were spots whereon I could stand (on the coral ledge) and drop my line into chasms of thirty-two or thirty-three fathoms.  Here the water was almost as blue to the eye as the ocean, and here the very largest fish resorted—­such as the pura, a species of rock-cod, and a blue-scaled groper, the native name of which I cannot now recall.