The four old fellows arose to the occasion.  They talked earnestly together for a minute, and then formed themselves into a committee, requested me to head them as a deputation with the whisky, and then waited upon their pastor, who was putting on a dry shirt in another hut.  I am glad to say that under our united protests he at last consented to save his life, and felt much better.

Presently the women announced that the ovens were ready to be opened.  As soon as the fish were counted, and the rain having ceased, we all gathered round the canoes and watched each one emptied of its load.  As I imagined, our party had taken the most fish, and not only the most, but the heaviest as well.  Mareko added to my blushing honours by informing the company that as a fisherman and a knowledgable man generally I justified his brother minister’s opinion and would prove an acquisition to the community.  We then inspected the first eel caught, and a truly huge creature it was, quite nine feet in length, and in girth at its thickest part, as near as I could guess with a piece of line, thirty inches.  The line with which it was caught was made of new four-stranded coir-cinnet, as thick as a stout lead pencil, and the hook a piece of 3/6 or 1/2 inch iron with a 6-inch shank, once used as a fish spear, without a barb!  The natives seemed much pleased at the interest displayed, and told me that sometimes these eels grew to elua gafa (i.e., two fathoms), but were seldom caught, and asked me if I had tackle strong enough for such.  Later on I showed them a 27-stranded American cotton line 100 fathoms long, with a 4-inch hook, curved in the shank, as thick as a pencil, and “eyed” for a twisted wire snooding.  They had never seen such beautiful tackle before, and were loud in their expressions of admiration, but thought the line too thin for a very heavy fish.  I told them that at Nanomaga I had caught palu (a nocturnal feeding fish of great size) in over sixty fathoms with that same line.

“That is true,” said one of them politely, “we were told that you and Tiaki (one Jack O’Brien, an old trader) of Funafuti have caught many palu with your long lines; but the palu is a weak fish even when he is a fathom long.  And as he comes up he grows weaker and weaker, and sometimes he bursts open when he comes to the surface.  Now if a big eel—­an eel two fathoms long—­”

“If he was three fathoms long he could not break this line,” I replied positively.

They laughed and told me that when I hooked even a small eel, one half a fathom in length, I would change my opinion.