stores, coiled ropes, and riff-raff prevented these poor from taking
any pleasurable exercise. I stood at the taffrail and peered down at
the welter of white water, the foam of the buffets of the whirling
screws, and then at the wide wake, which in imagination went on and
on in a luminous path to the place we had departed from, to the dock
where we had left the debarred lover of nature. The deep was lit
with the play of phosphorescent animalculae whom our passage awoke
in their homes beneath the surface and sent questing with lights for
the cause. A sheet of pale, green-gold brilliancy marked the route
of the Noa-Noa on the brine, and perhaps far back the corpse of the
celestial philosopher floated in radiancy, with his face toward those
skies, so brazen to his desires.

A Swiss with a letter of introduction to me presented it when seven
days out. It was from the manager of a restaurant in San Francisco, and
asked me to guide him in any way I could. The Swiss was middle-aged,
and talked only of a raw diet. He was to go to the Marquesas to eat
raw food. One would have thought a crude diet to be in itself an end in
life. He spoke of it proudly and earnestly, as if cooking one's edibles
were a crime or a vile thing. He told me for hours his dictums--no
alcohol, no tobacco, no meat, no fish; merely raw fruit, nuts,
and vegetables. He was a convinced rebel against any fire for food,
making known to any one who would listen that man had erred sadly,
thousands of years ago, in bringing fire into his cave for cooking,
and that the only cure for civilization's evils was in abolishing
the kitchen. He would live in the Marquesas as he said the aborigines
do. Alas! I did not tell him they ate only their fish raw.

Ben Fuller, the Australian theatrical manager, frowned on him. Fuller
was as round as a barrel, and he also was certain of the remedies