170 TROPIC DAYS 



roots of the red mangrove, and comic in the crudeness 

 and disproportion of its parts, he felt himself safe miles 

 out to sea. When he approached a passing vessel he 

 presented the illusion, not of walking, but of sitting on 

 the water, for the float was almost completely sub- 

 merged. If it became necessary for his wife to attend 

 him on his marine excursions, she was towed behind, 

 and used her own pedal power. Possibly this primitive 

 raft is the pathetic expression of man's first struggle 

 against the restrictions of the sea. 



The other resource of the boatless islander was another 

 description of float, also retrogressive from the log; 

 the idea not transmitted to him by any high-minded 

 bird, but forced upon his attention by elemental strife. 

 He would have seen that the wind and the waves oc- 

 casionally tore from his beaches Pandanus palms, and 

 that the matted, fibrous roots thereof floated. Pon- 

 dering in his dim way, and being sadly an hungered and 

 aware that fat and lazy turtle were basking in the 

 sighcd-for shallows, he took a bundle of buoyant roots 

 and light sticks and lashed it securely at one end with 

 strips of bark. He then spread out the other end until 

 it took the shape of a fan, and weaved the strands 

 loosely together with beach trailers. His raft was 

 complete. At least this description applies to that in 

 ui5e to-day, which represents the highest stage to which 

 the design has been brought. 



Under the influence of the peril-ignoring hunger, the 

 hunter sat on the float with legs extended frontally. 

 Across his thighs crouched his favourite dog, and 

 behind him, her thin shanks outside his and her skinny 

 arms round his slim waist, sat, uncomfortable, his 

 cowed wife — a necessary part of his equipment. Can 

 he be imagined half turning to his deferential spouse, 

 and saying: "My dear, in the words of Shakespeare, 



