OF THE SOUTH SEAS 431 



varos. They squirmed and wriggled, contorted and 

 crackled like giant thousand-legs, and almost excited in 

 me a repulsion. 



The vahine laughed at me. 



"I fished for them with a dozen grapnels," she said. 

 "It was good fishing to-day. I put a piece of fish on 

 each group of hooks. You know those holes are very 

 small at the top and under two or three feet of water. 

 Not many know how to find them. I set a grapnel in 

 each hole, and then returned to the first to pull out the 

 varo. I have more than twenty here." 



Butscher rose, and sluggishly began to prepare the 

 breakfast. He wrapped the varos in Jwtu-leaves, and 

 put them in the umu to steam on the red-hot stones, and 

 began to open oysters and fry fish in brown butter, as 

 Tatini and I hastened to the beach for a bath. The sea 

 was studded with coral growth, and sponges by the thou- 

 sand, and we sat on these soft cushions under the sur- 

 face, and watched the little fishes' antics, and chatted. 

 Tatini had gathered half a dozen nono, a fruit that has 

 a smooth skin and no stone, and she threw them at me. 



"Do you know about the nono?" she asked merrily. 

 "It was in our courtship. When a crowd of young men 

 were gathered to bathe in the pools or to lie on the banks 

 under the shade of the trees, suddenly a missile struck 

 one of them on the shoulder. The others began to shout 

 at him and to sing, for it was a sign that a vahine had 

 chosen him. He jumped to his feet and ran in the di- 

 rection of the hidden thrower, and she ran, too, but no 

 farther than away from the eyes of the others." 



"Tatini," I said, "the nono was the Tahitian arrow 

 of a little fat god we have called Cupid." 



