1 84 TROPIC DAYS 



At rare intervals the black varies his tactics by a 

 night attack, which is often highly demoraHsing. 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 gurghng 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" 

 — Harengida stereolepis (Ogilby) — the name of "Oon- 

 gnahr." 



How skilfully does Nature dovetail her designs ! 

 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 iry 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 ruftle the surface 

 of sea or emerge therefrom in living silver}- spra}-, in 

 frantic efforts to escape, the terns take all the}'- 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. I^OTig strands 

 of beach trailers and grass and slender twigs are rolled 

 and twisted up — apparently without the slightest art — 



