o have been far afield despoiling the
trees of their lovely blossoms, careless of the damage they have been
doing. But to me, who had not seen a bit for years, the flood of feeling
undammed by that odorous breath, was overwhelming. I could hardly
tear myself away from the spot, and, when at last I did, found myself
continually turning to try and catch another whiff of one of the most
beautiful scents in the world.

Presently we came to a cottage flooded from ground to roof-ridge with
blossoms of scarlet geranium. There must have been thousands of them,
all borne by one huge stem which was rooted by the door of the house. A
little in front of it grew a fuchsia, twelve or fourteen feet high, with
wide-spreading branches, likewise loaded with handsome blooms; while the
ground beneath was carpeted with the flowers shaken from their places by
the rude wind.

So, through scenes of loveliness that appealed even to the dusky
Kanakas, we trudged gaily along, arriving pretty well fagged at our
destination--a great glade of tenderest green, surrounded by magnificent
trees on three sides; the fourth opening on to a dazzling white beach
sloping gently down to the sea. Looking seaward, amidst the dancing,
sparkling wavelets, rose numerous tree-clothed islets, making a
perfectly beautiful seascape. On either side of the stretch of beach
fantastic masses of rock lay about, as if scattered by some tremendous
explosion. Where the sea reached them, they were covered with untold
myriads of oysters, ready to be eaten and of delicious flavour.

What need to say more? With oyster-feeding, fishing, bathing,
tree-climbing, tea-making, song-singing the hours fled with pitiless
haste, so that, before we had half emptied the brimming cup of joys
proffered us, the slanting rays of the setting sun warned us to return
lest we should get "hushed" in the dark. We came on board rejoicing,
laden with spoils of flowers and fish, with two-thirds of our money
still in our pockets, and full of happy memories of one of the most
delightful days in our whole lives.

A long night's sound sleep was rudely broken into in the morning by the
cry of "Man the windlass." Having got all we wanted, we were bound away
to finish, if luck were with us, the lading of our good ship from the
teeming waters of the Solander grounds. I know the skipper's hopes were
high, for he never tired of telling how, when in command of a new ship,
he once fished the whole of his cargo--s