quarter-deck as if she were a line-of-battle ship—­here the airs put on were almost ludicrous in the other direction.  Although she was only “a good jump” long, as we say, whenever an order was given, it was thundered out as if the men were a mile away each officer appearing to vie with the others as to who could bellow the loudest.  That was carrying things to the opposite extreme, and almost equally objectionable to merchant seamen.

We were thus left alone to finish our trying-out except for such company as was afforded by the only resident’s little schooner, in which he went oyster-dredging.  It was exceedingly comfortable in the small harbour, and the fishing something to remember all one’s life.  That part of New Zealand is famous for a fish something like a bream, but with a longer snout, and striped longitudinally with black and yellow.  I am ignorant of any polysyllabic prefix for it, only knowing it by its trivial and local appellation of the “trumpeter,” from the peculiar sound it makes when out of water.  But no other fish out of the innumerable varieties which I have sampled in all parts of the world could compare with the trumpeter for flavour and delicacy.  These qualities are well known to the inhabitants of the large towns, who willingly pay high prices for the scanty supply of these delicious fish which they are able to obtain.  Of other succulent fish there was a great variety, from the majestic “grouper,” running up to over a hundredweight, down to the familiar flounder.  Very little fishing could be done at night.  Just as day was dawning was the ideal time for this enticing sport.  As soon as the first few streaks of delicate light enlivened the dull horizon, a stray nibble or two gladdened the patient fishermen; then as the light strengthened the fun became general, and in about an hour enough fish would be caught to provide all hands with for the day.

One morning, when a stark calm left, the surface of the bay as smooth as a mirror, I was watching a few stealthily-gliding barracouta sneaking about over the plainly visible bottom, though at a depth of seven or eight fathoms.  Ordinarily, these fish must be taken with a live bait; but, remembering my experience with the dolphin, I determined to try a carefully arranged strip of fish from one recently caught.  In precisely the same way as the dolphin, these long, snaky rascals carefully tested the bait, lying still for sometimes as long as two minutes with the bait in their mouths, ready to drop it out on the first intimation that it was not a detached morsel.  After these periods of waiting the artful creature would turn to go, and a sudden jerk of the line then reminded him that he was no longer a free agent, but mounting at headlong speed to a strange bourne whence he never returned to tell the tale.  My catch that lovely morning scaled over a hundredweight in less than an hour, none of the fish being less than ten pounds in weight.