I was catching more fish than any one else. And I was not going to let
my reputation suffer for the sake of a few hooks. So we coiled up our
lines on the outrigger platform, and taking up our paddles headed
shoreward, taking care to pass near Viliamu's canoe. He hailed me and
asked me for a pipe of tobacco.

"I shall give it to you when we return," I said.

"When you return! Why, where are you going?" he asked.

"On shore, you silly old woman! I have been showing these boys how to
fish for _gatala_, and we go because the canoe is sinking. When we
return these two _tamariki_ (infants) shall show _you_ how to fish now
that they have learnt from me."

There was a loud laugh at this, and as the old man took the jest very
good-naturedly I brought up alongside, showed him our take, and gave him
a stick of tobacco. The astonishment of himself and his crew of three at
the quantity of fish we had afforded me much satisfaction, though I
could not help feeling that our luck was not due to my own skill alone.

Returning to the islets we were just in time to escape two fierce
squalls, which lasted half an hour and raised such a sea that the
remaining canoes began to follow us, as they were unable to keep on the
ground. During our absence the women and children had been most
industrious; the weather-worn, dilapidated huts had been made habitable
with freshly-plaited _kapaus_--coarse mats of green coconut leaves, the
floors covered with clean white pebbles, sleeping mats in readiness, and
heaps of young drinking nuts piled up in every corner, whilst outside
smoke was arising from a score of ground ovens in which taro and puraka