134 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



northward for three or four miles to try another 

 reef that may perchance be free of such vermin. 

 The plan answers, and, within a short time of 

 our settling down to work again, two good schnap- 

 per, great red bream with a peculiar hump on the 

 forehead (see photograph from an excellent paint- 

 ing in the possession of the Imperial Institute*) 

 which gives the fish a stern, Roman-nosed profile, 

 are kicking on the deck. Then several morwong 

 soon join, and within a quarter of an hour every- 

 one has caught something. Hauling a schnapper 

 of five or six pounds weight is no child's play, 

 for the water is moderately deep, the fish is a born 

 fighter, and the pull on the line is of course increased 

 by the broadside drift of the boat, as no anchor is 

 down during the fishing. I never encountered 

 at any rate outside of the excellent fish-room in 

 the Australian Museum, any of the double-figure 

 monsters that bulk so large in the glorious annals 

 of earlier schnapper-fishing, but they must give 

 fine sport indeed, even on a handline. A rod would 

 never do for the work. I confess that I took mine 

 out, something that I had had specially built at 

 home for the work, with vague dreams of carrying 

 the purism of the B.S.A.S. to the South Pacific. 

 I also confess that the rod was never taken out 



* For permission to take this I am indebted to the kindness 

 of Professor Wyndham Dunstan, F.R.S. 



