NONSUCH 



thoughtless wisdom, steering perfectly between un- 

 due precociousness and fatal lagging in the scheme 

 of behavior to which inheritance and adaptation had 

 molded them. 



Slicking for flyingfish far out at sea is a very 

 different thing from running out a mile from shore 

 to the nearest smooth patch. We can indulge in this 

 sport only in the very rare days when the entire 

 ocean is calm, with no ripples, but only the great 

 ceaselessly heaving swells. We steam ten miles off- 

 shore on the tug until Bermuda becomes a mere 

 dark ruled line along the horizon, bounded by the 

 two infinitesimal nodes which are lighthouses. The 

 Gladisfen dips and rises on each swell, making 

 the motion much more apparent than it is to the eye, 

 and our wake is the principal disturbance in the 

 whole ocean. 



When the two miles of wire are out and the deep- 

 sea nets down and the long period of watchful 

 waiting begins, on such a day of calm we launch 

 the rowboat. This must be done with speed and skill, 

 for at the least carelessness the boat would be 

 crushed under the counter as the tug rolls from side 

 to side. We push off and to my surprise the move- 

 ment of the water almost ceases. The swells are 

 so long that the rowboat slips over them unnotice- 

 ably. An ocean liner would probably wallow. 

 Only if one watches the skyline does one real- 

 ize the full movement, as the horizon is raised 

 high above or settles far below. The rhythm shifts 

 us from the bottom of a great bowl of polished 



62 



