Evening star., 1923-01-07

hast of series OF three articles,
each recounting IA leg OF the famous
~Crulse of the Dream Shlp.o
HINK of any place in the world
that you have seen, and an.
atoll is different 1t is the
fairy ring of the sea-. Out of
the depths it comes, rearing vege-
tation and people of its own, and
often into the depths 1t goes. leaving
no trace.
Imagine a circular beach of glis-
tening coral sand and green vegeta-
ton, from five to fifty yards wide.
thrust up through the sea, for all the
world like a hedge, and inclosing
garden of coral fronds submerged un-
der water so still and clear as to be
hardly visible, and you have an atoll
as saw 1t from the masthead.
And there were myriads of them
big atolls, little atolls. fat and thin
atolls-fading away into the shim-
mering heat haze of the horizon. The
fairies must have been mighty busy
down this way.
1t is sunrise. and already the pearl
ing canoes are putting out from the
village and scurrying to the fishing
grounds over the CLASSY surface Of
the lagoon.
A fine people. these of the atolls-
outstanding, deep of chest. race of
mermen if ever there was one. From
birth up. if they are not in the water,
they are on it or as close to II as
they can get. Take them inland and
they die. So they squat on their
Canoe outriggers. smoking. chatting.
laughing, until the spirit moves them
(nothing else WILD, and one of their
humber drops from sight. feet first,
with hardly ripple. .-,,.
!: X !.
%IOU look down and you see him, as
i though through green-tinted
glass, crouched on the sloping floor
OF the lagoon. He is plucking oysters
ss one would gather flowers in gar
den. There is no haste to his move
ments, nothing to indicate that there
is any time limit to his remaining
down there under anything from five
to fifteen fathoms of water.
A minute passes, two minutes:
still he pursues his leisurely way,
piuclSing to right and left and thrust
ing the shells into a network bag
about his neck.
The man of the atolis is in a world
OF his own, where none but his~kind
can follow, and they still squat on
their outriggers, chatting and laugh
ing like a crowd of boys at a swim
ming pool.
One alone seems interested in the
divers movements-his mate, fair
skinned woman, with streaming blue
black hair, leans over the gunwale
of the canoe, looking down through
q kerosene tin waterglass.
The divers dark figure against the
pale-green coral becomes more blur
red; a stream of silver air bubbles
floats upward. Three minutes by the
watch have come and gone. To the
landsman IL seems Incredible; and
even then there is no haste, no shoot
ing to the surface or gasps for
breath.
The dark body becomes clearer in
outline as it emerges from the
depths and slowly, quite slowly,
floats upward until jet-black head
breaks water and the diver clings
to the Gunwale of the canoe, inhal-
ing deep but hurried breaths and ex-
haling with a long-drawn whistle
peculiarly his own.
In what way this whistle helps
matters 1t is impossible to say; but
whether a. habit a pose or an aid
in the. regaining of breath, it Is uni
versal throughout the Paumotus, so
much so that busy afternoon with
the pearlers sounds more like a tin
whistle band than anything else.
With the people of the atolls the
ability to remain under water for long
periods is more than an art; it is Sec
ond nature. Instinctively they do
just those things that make one
breath suffice for three minutes, and
sometimes four.
Preparatory to a descent, they do
not take a deep breath and hold it
until the surface is reached again.
They fill their lungs with a normal
amount of air. which lasts them about
q minute and half; the other minute