NONSUCH 



has happened to their machinery, and vibrate calmly 

 on, after the manner of all healthy jellyfish. 



A fine white strand drifts across the glass of my 

 helmet and I reach out and brush it casually aside. 

 But it is no derelict bit of seaweed, for at my touch 

 it curls and twists and withdraws upward. I sight 

 along its slanting length and high overhead, just 

 dimly visible, at least thirty feet away near the sur- 

 face, is a great Cyanea jelly, a half -bushel mass of 

 deep lavender. As I look, it gently sinks and comes 

 nearer, and I see the medusa head of a myriad ten- 

 drils. I side-step to avoid them for they sting se- 

 verely, and with the sun behind me I detect a crowd 

 of little fish scurrying in and out of the deadly por- 

 tieres. At that moment a black net filled with air 

 bubbles appears and the jelly vanishes — my assist- 

 ant has captured it, and we find that its attendant 

 fish are little bumpers, quite new to Bermuda. 

 Thousands of them spend their early life in these 

 gorgon heads, generations having drifted for cen- 

 turies past the Somers Isles without a single indi- 

 vidual being cast ashore. 



The first thing which questioners wish to know, 

 and the last which occupies our minds, is the Dan- 

 gers of Almost Island. Barracudas nose about us 

 now and then, sharks but rarely in the daytime ; mo- 

 rays of moderate length come to our bait and green 

 chaps of embarrassing circumference and extent 

 have their homes in the deeper wells, but only occa- 

 sionally do we see their gasping j aws ; groupers, as 

 in Haiti, are sometimes a trifle too curious and f ear- 



48 



