THE LACCADIVES AND THE WEST COAST. 449 
off and disappeared ; one of the men then jumped in, dived, 
but failed to find the Turtle ; a second dived, and almost imme- 
diately brought the Turtle up, and holding his belly upwards, 
despite the violent flapping of his limbs, swam safely to the 
bank with him. After this I did not hesitate to believe that 
in the clear water of the lagoons, where it was not very deep, 
Turtle would stand a poor chance with half a dozen of these 
amphibious Islanders after them. 
1 have said something of the curious customs of these Island- 
ers in the matter of the succession always going to the sister’s 
son. Scarcely less curious are their marriage arrangements. 
When a young man marries he cannot remove his wife from 
her father’s house, but he must, at any rate, if on the island, 
sleep every night at his father-in-law’s house; if he misses a 
single night, a ‘terrible row ensues, and in this matter the ladies 
so entirely have their own way that absences of this kind are 
very rare. As arule, a man takes his meals also at his father-in- 
law’s house. This, however, is optional, but if he does so, he 
must’ provide the food for his wife to cook. This state of 
things continues throughout a man’s whole life. Hven when his 
maternal uncle dies, and he becomes himself the master of a 
house of his own, he can never take his wife there. The 
woman lives and dies in the house in which she is born, and 
with her remain her children; both she and they belong to her 
father’s family and not to her husband’s. Primé facie this would 
seem to be an impracticable and unnatural arrangement, but it 
is astonishing with what facility human nature adopts itself 
to any custom,and how the unnatural of one people or age 
constitute the natural of another; and, as far as I could 
ascertain, the people were just as happy and comfortable under 
this, to us, abnormal state of affairs as they are elsewhere, 
where domestic arrangements are more in consonance with 
our European proclivities. 
When towards evening, I walked leisurely about with a 
group of elders in thecentral portion of the island, I thought 
I had rarely seen a prettier sight. Hverywhere towering over 
our heads waved the feather crowns of the finest and tallest 
cocoanut trees I have ever seen; the declining sun poured in a 
perfect flood of golden light through the fretted canopy of 
softly undulating fronds, imparting to them an almost unearthly 
brightness. Below, hiding half the pillar-like palm stems, which 
seemed to stretch away endless in all directions, and already 
shrouded in the gloom of evening, dense masses of bread fruit 
trees hemmed us round with deep g green many-fingered foliage. 
Lower again infant palms of the most marvellous vigour and 
symmetry (destined to replace, when the inevitable ‘evil day 
