IOO 
Wild Life in Southern Seas. 
and lithe-limbed, asked me if she could take 
my little girl for a walk to a village called 
Tamakautoga. “ There be people of mine own 
blood there, master. And they hunger to see 
this little child of thine. And I shall be careful 
that she eateth none of those things of which 
thou hast warned me—pork, or cold taro, or 
baked fa’e (octopus), or guavas, or raw fish.” 
I saw her lead my little one away under the 
long, palm-shaded path that led to Tamakautoga, 
and, having nothing to do in particular, went to 
the house of a trader near by for a smoke and 
a chat. From his verandah we commanded a 
view of the line of reef that stood out like a 
shelf from the precipitous shore of the island. 
The tide was half-ebbed, but the rolling ocean 
billows dashed unceasingly against the steep face 
of the reef and sent great seething sheets of 
roaring foam sweeping shoi eward over the 
surface of the coral table. Yet all along the 
edge of the reef were numbers of women fishing 
with rods. Sometimes, when a roller too big to 
withstand rose and curled its greeny crest fiercely 
before them, the women would run landward a 
hundred feet or so, and let it sweep by them 
waist high. Then they would hurry back to 
