Beneath Tropic Seas 



CHAPTER I 



BROTH ERING FISH 



You are standing on a metal ladder in water up 

 to your neck. Something round and heavy is 

 slipped gently over your head, and a metal helmet 

 rests upon your shoulders. Thus were the knights 

 of old helmed by their squires for the grim business 

 of war. Instead of a slotted vizor, however, you 

 find two large frames of glass before your eyes. 

 Turning your head you see emerald waves breaking 

 upon the distant beach of ivory, backed by feathery 

 palms waving in the sunlight against a sky of 

 pure azure. 



You wave good-by to your grinning friend at the 

 pump, and slowly descend, climbing down step by 

 step. For a brief space of time the palms and the 

 beach show intermittently through waves which 

 are now breaking over your very face. Then the 

 world changes. There is no more harsh sunlight, 

 but delicate blue-greens with a fluttering of 

 shadows everywhere. Huge pink and orange 

 growths rise on all sides — you know they are living 

 corals, just as you know that the perfect clouds 



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