BENEATH TROPIC SEAS 



while there was a single small harvestfish {Peprilus 

 'paru). There must have been at least three 

 hundred and fifty small fish in the heart of this 

 mighty jelly when it was vibrating slowly along, — 

 a strange enough nursery for the most imaginative 

 fairy tale, yet in full swing here in the light of day. 



I began this chapter with the theme of creatures 

 in myriads and now I shall return again to the vast 

 schools of tiny fish at Sand Cay and my experience 

 with them on one of my last dives. 



We had set off two sticks of dynamite with the 

 usual excellent results, and there remained in the 

 locker half a stick. As this might be our last visit 

 to the reef, the half portion was exploded and I 

 dived at once. 



I saw an astonishing sight. A few minutes 

 before, as I came to the surface, tens of thousands 

 of the fish motes had shot through the water about 

 me in all directions, still striving with their utmost 

 skill to evade both tlie voracious yellow-tails and 

 the fatal gape of the pelicans. It seemed as if 

 their whole life was a constant breaking through 

 the water ceiling and the air floor. 



Now, in the very spot I had left a few minutes 

 before, the whole water was filled with silvery 

 motes, gently scaling downward. The explosion 

 had occurred in the midst of a rain of fleeing silver- 

 sides and the water and the reef floor looked like 

 the tinsel on a Christmas tree. I was stricken with 

 regret for having ended so many lives at once, but 

 my sorrow was ill-timed and quite premature. I 



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