the islanders of the South Pacific. Tom gave us a tow to windward, and
we then rowed direct to a point on one side of the entrance to the
lagoon, where we saw some natives waving something white. As we
approached we could distinguish several figures standing on the point,
under the shade of some cocoa-nut trees, and on the opposite side of
the entrance some canoes were drawn up on the beach, by the side of a
hut, close to a large clump of low trees. We were by this time
surrounded by breakers, and it required no little skill to steer the
boat safely through the broken water, between the race of the tide on
one side, and the overfall from the coral reef on the other. It was
successfully done, however, and, having rounded the point, we found
ourselves at once in the waters of the tranquil lagoon. We should have
preferred to land at the point, had it been possible, as it was
doubtful whether it would be safe to go round the corner, and so lose
sight of the yacht; but the intentions of the natives seemed
peaceable, several of them running into the water up to their waists
to meet us, while others could be seen hurrying along the beach, the
women carrying what looked like bunches of fruit.

It is really impossible to describe the beauty of the scene before us.
Submarine coral forests, of every colour, studded with sea-flowers,
anemones, and echinidæ, of a brilliancy only to be seen in dreamland,
shoals of the brightest and swiftest fish darting and flashing in and
out; shells, everyone of which was fit to hold the place of honour in
a conchologist's collection, moving slowly along with their living
inmates: this is what we saw when we looked down, from the side of the
boat, into the depths below. The surface of the water glittered with
every imaginable tint, from the palest aquamarine to the brightest
emerald, from the pure light blue of the turquoise to the deep dark
blue of the sapphire, and was dotted here and there with patches of