376 MYSTIC ISLES 



"Tellee haapao maitaif Kelly was a wise man!" they 

 would lament. 



Every one used a fine casting-net when fishing alone 

 along the shores. The net was weighted, and was 

 thrown over schools of small fish so dexterously that 

 hundreds were snared in one fling. The tiniest fish 

 were the size of matches. When cooked with a paste, 

 they were as dainty as whitebait served at Greenwich to 

 a London gourmet, and sung by Shakespere. The nets 

 were plaited of the fibers of the hibiscus, banyan, or 

 pandanus-bark, and when a mighty catch was expected, 

 one of small mesh was laid inside a net of stronger and 

 coarser make, to intercept any large fish that might 

 break through the first Hne of offense. The weights 

 were stones wrapped in cocoanut-fiber, and the floats 

 were of the buoyant hibiscus-wood. In front of the 

 grounds of the chefferie there hung on the trees a long 

 line of nets drying in the breeze. 



Before a feast, if there were not conditions auspicious 

 for a tuu i te upea toro, a dragging of the seine, the 

 village was occupied during the day or the wind was 

 unfavorable, we went out at night after the trades had 

 died down, and in a dozen or twenty canoes we speared 

 them by torchlight. One was at the paddle, and the 

 other at the prow, with uplifted flambeau, searching the 

 waters for the fleeing shadows beneath, and launching 

 the dart at the exact instant of proximity. The con- 

 gregation of lights, the lapping of the waves, and per- 

 haps the very gathering of humans excited the fish. 

 They leaped and splashed, and unaware of their be- 

 trayal of their presence to slayers, informed our eyes 

 and ears of their whereabouts. I could not compete 



