clumps of thicket from the sea. And then a bird or two
appeared, hovering and crying; swiftly these became more numerous, and
presently, looking ahead, we were aware of a vast effervescence of
winged life. In this place the annular isle was mostly under water,
carrying here and there on its submerged line a wooded islet. Over one
of these the birds hung and flew with an incredible density like that of
gnats or hiving bees; the mass flashed white and black, and heaved and
quivered, and the screaming of the creatures rose over the voice of the
surf in a shrill clattering whirr. As you descend some inland valley, a
not dissimilar sound announces the nearness of a mill and pouring river.
Some stragglers, as I said, came to meet our approach; a few still hung
about the ship as we departed. The crying died away, the last pair of
wings was left behind, and once more the low shores of Kauehi streamed
past our eyes in silence like a picture. I supposed at the time that the
birds lived, like ants or citizens, concentred where we saw them. I have
been told since (I know not if correctly) that the whole isle, or much
of it, is similarly peopled; and that the effervescence at a single spot
would be the mark of a boat's crew of egg-hunters from one of the
neighbouring inhabited atolls. So that here at Kauehi, as the day before
at Taiaro, the _Casco_ sailed by under the fire of unsuspected eyes. And
one thing is surely true, that even on these ribbons of land an army
might lie hid and no passing mariner divine its presence.

CHAPTER II

FAKARAVA: AN ATOLL AT HAND

By a little before noon we were running down the coast of our
destination, Fakarava: the air very light, the sea near smooth; though
still we were accompanied by a continuous murmur from the beach, like
the sound of a distant train. The isle is of a huge longitude, the
enclosed lagoon thirty miles by ten or twelve, and the coral tow-path,
which they call the land, some eighty or ninety miles by (possibly) one
furlong. That part by which we sailed was all raised; the underwood
excellently green, the topping wood of coco-palms continuous--a mark, if
I had known it, of man's intervention. For once more, and once more
unconsciously, we were within hail of fellow-creatures, and that vacant
beach was but a pistol-shot from the capital city of the archipelago.
But the life of an atoll, unless it be enclosed, passes wholly on the
shores of the lagoon; it is there the vill