Old Samoan Days. 
201 
triumphantly, “ Aue! my father is first,” and 
sure enough the stout pole in the chiefs hand 
is bending and straining under the weight of a 
heavy fish. What a splashing and froth he 
makes as he comes to the surface, and then with 
a dexterous swing Gafalua lands a magnificent 
blue and yellow groper—weight about io lbs. 
Beside us now stands Vaitupu, gaff in hand, 
her dark eyes dancing with excitement, for the 
doctor has wagered me a dollar he lands a fish 
before I do. 
“ Here, here, O, my dear friend,” cries 
Vaitupu, “ drop your line here ; down there 
in that deep blue valley between the rocks are 
the great big gatala (rock cod). Oh, such 
fish, as big as a shark.” 
Baiting with a small, wonderfully coloured 
fish, I drop my line into the “ blue valley,” 
while the girl and I watch the bait sinking 
slowly, slowly down, till it is almost lost to 
sight. A dark, misty shape rises up from 
the depths below, and Vaitupu clutches my 
arm. 
“ Aue! it is a gatala; strike, strike, my 
friend.” 
No need for that, Vaitupu ; a sharp tug at 
