The weather continued calm and clear, and as the flying-fish were
about in such immense numbers, I ventured to suggest to Goliath
that we might have a try for some of them. I verily believe he
thought I was mad. He stared at me for a minute, and then, with
an indescribable intonation, said, "How de ol' Satan yew fink yew
gwain ter get'm, hey? Ef yew spects ter fool dis chile wiv any
dem lime-juice yarns, 'bout lanterns 'n boats at night-time,
yew's 'way off." I guessed he meant the fable current among
English sailors, that if you hoist a sail on a calm night in a
boat where flying-fish abound, and hang a lantern in the middle
of it, the fish will fly in shoals at the lantern, strike against
the sail, and fall in heaps in the boat. It MAY be true, but I
never spoke to anybody who has seen it done, nor is it the method
practised in the only place in the world where flying-fishing is
followed for a living. So I told Mr. Jones that if we had some
circular nets of small mesh made and stretched on wooden hoops, I
was sure we should be able to catch some. He caught at the idea,
and mentioned it to the mate, who readily gave his permission to
use a boat. A couple of "Guineamen" (a very large kind of
flying-fish, having four wings) flew on board that night, as if
purposely to provide us with the necessary bait.
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