1 84 TROPIC DAYS 



At rare intervals the black varies his tactics by a 

 night attack, which is often highly demoralising. When 

 the moon is on the other side of the world, with spears 

 and flaring torches of paper-bark, he rushes in a band 

 to raid the reef, to the dismay of startled and bewildered 

 fish. Substitute for the gurgling cadences of semi- 

 submerged coral and muteness and universal dimness 

 instant noise and splashing, and dazzling lights here 

 and there and everywhere, and it is not to be considered 

 strange that the fish tipsy with panic and confusion 

 fail to exercise their habitual alertness. 



At a certain season of the year November and 

 December in the neighbourhood of Dunk Island 

 myriads of fish, about the size of a sardine, appear in 

 shoals, an acre or so in area, or encircle the islands 

 with a living, bluish-grey frill yards broad. The blacks 

 bestow on this godsend, popularly known as "sprats" 

 Harengula stereolepis (Ogilby) the name of "Oon- 

 gnahr." 



How skilfully does Nature dovetail her designs 1 

 This great multitude of fish appears when it is most 

 needed. The terns (sea-swallows) are rearing their 

 families, and ever need fresh food in unstinted quanti- 

 ties. The small fry come to an excited and enthusiastic 

 market. Slim, silvery kingfish, grey sharks, and blue 

 bonito, harry the shoals, ripping through them with 

 steel-like flashes, and as the little fish ruffle the surface 

 of sea or emerge therefrom in living silvery spray, in 

 frantic efforts to escape, the terns take all they want, 

 screaming with satisfaction. Then, too, the blacks 

 join in the work of destruction. When the frill of fish 

 lies limp on the beach, they fabricate a seine net, cheap, 

 but admirably suited for the purpose. Long strands 

 of beach trailers and grass and slender twigs are rolled 

 and twisted up apparently without the slightest art 



