WITH HELMET AND HOSE 83 



living creature — things such as this made every 

 descent an ineradicable memory. 



My range of vision was perhaps fifty feet in 

 every direction, but for all I could tell it might 

 have been fifty feet or fifty miles. The sun's rays 

 filtered down as though through the most marvel- 

 lous cathedral ever imagined — intangible, oblique 

 rays which the eye could perceive but no lip de- 

 scribe. With distance, these became more and more 

 luminous, more wondrously brilliant, until rocks 

 died away in a veritable purple glory. No sunset, 

 no mist on distant mountains that I have seen, 

 could compare with this. One had to sit quietly 

 and absorb these beauties before one could remem- 

 ber to be an ichthyologist. 



As I was revelling in pure sensuous delight at 

 this color of colors, a small object appeared in mid- 

 water close to my little glass window, and was 

 instantly obscured by half a dozen little fish which 

 darted about it, some actually flicking my helmet 

 with their tails. Just as I saw that the suspended 

 object was a baited hook, a baby scarlet snapper 

 snatched at it, darted downward, and was at once 

 drawn up into the boat. As I looked after it an 

 idea came to me and I followed the snapper up- 

 ward by way of the ladder. When the helmet was 

 hfted off and I could speak, I expressed my wants, 

 and descended again. Soon there fell slowly at 

 my feet a small stone to which was tied a juicy 

 and scarcely dead crab. I picked this up, waved it 

 back and forth so as to scatter the impelhng in- 

 cense of its body and as if by magic, from behind 



