here by the natives as a condition existing always. Another oddity
of the tides is that they are almost inappreciable, the difference
between high and low tide hardly ever exceeding two feet. But every six
months or so a roaring tide rolls in from far at sea, and, sweeping
with violence over the reef, breaks on the beach. Now was due such a
wave, and its possibilities of height and destruction caused lively
argument between the traders and the old salts. More than a dozen
retired seamen, mostly Frenchmen, found their Snug Harbor in the Cercle
Bougainville, where liberty, equality, and fraternity had their home,
and where Joseph bounded when orders for the figurative splicing of
the main-brace came from the tables.

George Goeltz, a sea-rover, who had cast his anchor in the club after
fifty years of equatorial voyaging, was, on account of his seniority,
knowledge of wind and reef, and, most of all, his never-failing
bonhommie, keeper of barometer, thermometer, telescopes, charts,
and records. When I had my jorum of the eminent physician's Samoan
prescription before me, I barkened to the wisdom of the mariners.

Captain. William Pincher, who had at my first meeting informed me he
was known as Lying Bill, explained to me that some ignorant landsmen
stated that this tidal regularity was caused by the steady drift of
the tradewinds at certain hours of the day.

"That don't go," said he, "for the tides are the same whether there's
a gale o' wind or a calm. I've seen the tide 'ighest 'ere in Papeete
when there wasn't wind to fill a jib, and right 'ere on the leeward
side of the bloody island, sheltered from the breeze. How about it
at night, too, when the trade quits? The bleedin' tide rises and
falls just the same at just the same time. Those trades don't even