COCOS— THE ISLE OF PIRATES 233 



another. It became necessary to cut them adrift 

 and in the terrific sea to row them astern and hoist 

 them aboard. The sight was a strange one. As the 

 first sailor went down the Jacob's ladder he had to 

 kick one or two birds off each rung, and the boats, 

 both inside and along the gunwale, were a perfect 

 paste of boobies. It reminded me of old Japanese 

 prints of boats filled with tame fishing cormorants. 

 As we looked over the side, the air was filled with 

 hundreds of squawking birds as large as geese, 

 dashing through the spin-drift and the foaming 

 crests of the waves. The sailors tried to protect 

 their faces from the flying birds and at the same 

 time to manipulate the half-filled boats. It was a 

 risky, cleverly-executed piece of work, and ulti- 

 mately all were saved (Fig. 40) . Our memory was 

 thus enriched by another unexpected experience. 



Next morning the sun rose in a blaze of golden 

 copper — a third of the sky being molten, the rest 

 cold blue, while to the west beyond the island was 

 the inevitable rainbow with its end buried deep in 

 some inland ravine. Almost at once the sun was 

 quenched and there was only the oily rolling sea 

 covered with dead or sodden birds, and arched by 

 the equally sodden sky. 



The waterfalls on the mountain sides had in- 

 creased to foaming torrents, and tide lines were 

 conspicuously marked with floating tree-trunks, 

 branches and vines, and millions of green leaves, 

 extending in a straight line along the axis of Cha- 

 tham Bay and on to the northern horizon. With 



