THE BOOK OF THE TARPON 



by scattering keys with their tropical foliage. 

 Here and there the surface of the water was 

 dotted with groups of pelicans and lesser birds, 

 and often broken by the leaps of whip rays and 

 tarpon and the rolling of dolphins. The water 

 was so clear that as I looked down we seemed to 

 be floating in air above a beautiful garden of 

 rare products. There were flowering coral in 

 forms infinitely varied, sea feathers, sponges of 

 many sorts that seemed to live and breathe as I 

 gazed at them and above and among them, dart- 

 ing hither and thither, were tiny fishes of many 

 shapes and colors. 



Once a great whip ray glided almost beneath 

 me and I looked down upon a broad, flat back, 

 fully eight feet in diameter, covered with white 

 rings on a black ground, as uniform and bright 

 as a fresh linoleum pattern. Startled by a mo- 

 tion of my hand as the creature rose to the sur- 

 face, it fluttered away, looking like a giant 

 butterfly with its great wings waving half in and 

 half out of the water. 



Wireless messages of good will must have 

 radiated from our slow-moving craft to the crea- 

 tures of the wild. For minutes at a time dolphins 



