The Mariposas 351 
sighs and makes rippling music; the groups of 
mangroves growing in the water, the long sub- 
merged reef, the old wreck, the clouds of snowy 
terns. I recall the submarine garden, the coral 
groves cut by strange channels of turquoise-blue, 
the colossal heads of coral eaten out into curious, 
vaselike shapes, the masses of plumelike gorgo- 
nias floating, waving eternally in the restless cur- 
rent, the paradise of the southern seas. 
In these gardens were some of the most beauti- 
ful of all fishes, known as mariposas and angel- 
fishes, the various species being garbed in colors 
so brilliant and startling that one could almost 
believe that nature was masquerading. In the 
wealth of other game they are rarely noticed and 
rarely caught, so small are their mouths. Espe- 
cially rigged tackle is necessary, at least the angler 
fishing for the gray snapper, yellowtail, or jack 
would never take a mariposa unless by accident; 
but once caught, they would always be included 
among the delight givers of the reef. 
Anchoring just outside the fringing reef on 
which the sea was beating, over one of the beau- 
tiful coral plantations, with a water-glass myriads 
of these gorgeous fishes could be seen in water 
fifteen or twenty feet deep, some attaining a 
