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By Rock and Pool on an Austral Shore, and Other Stories by Louis Becke
page 42 of 216 (19%)

As soon as the natives had left the house, Marèko turned to me with a
beaming smile. "Let them go on first and net some _atuli_ for us for
bait," he said, "you and I shall follow in my own canoe and fish for
_gatala_. It will be a great thing for one of us to catch the first
_gatala_ of the season. Yesterday, when I was over there," pointing to
two tiny islets within the lagoon, "I saw some _gatala_. The natives
laugh at me and say I am mistaken--that because the _atuli_ had not come
there could be no _gatala_. Now, _I_ think that the big fish came in
some days ago, but the strong wind and current kept the _atuli_ outside
till now. Come."

I needed no pressing. In five minutes I had my basket of lines (of white
American cotton) ready, and joined Marèko. His canoe (the best on the
island, of course) was already in the water and manned by his two sons,
boys of eight and twelve respectively. I sat for'ard, the two youngsters
amidships, the father took the post of honour as _tautai_ or steersman,
and with a chuckle of satisfaction from the boys, off we went in the
wake of about thirty other canoes.

Oh, the delight of urging a light canoe over the glassy water of an
island lagoon, and watching the changing colours and strange, grotesque
shapes of the coral trees and plants of the garden beneath as they
vanish swiftly astern, and the quick _chip, chip_ of the flashing
paddles sends the whirling, noisy eddies to right and left, and frights
the lazy, many-hued rock-fish into the darker depths beneath! On, on,
till the half mile or more of shallow water which covers the inner reef
is passed, and then suddenly you shoot over the top of the submarine
wall, into deepest, loveliest blue, full thirty fathoms deep, and as
calm and quiet as an infant sleeping on its mother's bosom, though
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