A SOUTH SEA DISCOVERY.

DR.TRAPROCK was fortunate, not merely in being commissioned by' his pdblisher to write of his travels before he set sail, but also in discovering a new group of islands on the Eastern rim of Polynesia without leaving America. In due course we hope he will give us a more elaborate description of the Filbert Islands. A treatise upon their flora and fauna, which differ to a remark- able extent from those of the main archipelago, would create a sensation in the scientific world. However, until it appears we must content ourselves with the short account of the expedition contained in The Cruise of the € Katoa.' (London : Putnams. 10s. 6d. net.) Dr. Traprock sailed early in 1921, accompanied by his friends Professor Whinney, the eminent scientist, and Mr. Herman Swank, the American painter. Before making her great discovery the auxiliary yacht Kawa ' spent a wearying four months cruising the Southern Pacific. Dr. Traprock shrank from imposing an ordinary account of the South Seas upon his readers, and personally he was acutely disappointed by the unoriginal type of island he found there. Only in Amnesia was there any promise of originality, and there the polyps had either become dis- heartened or the appropriation had given out, for the reefs remained incomplete. July 4th found the 'Caws.' in the corner of the ocean formed by the intersection of the equator and the 180th meridian—the vessel's bearings after this are unrecorded. The day was given up to celebrating the national holiday with frequent toasts, speeches and rockets.

" Captain Triplett, being a stickler for marine etiquette, had conditioned that there should be no liquor consumed, except when the sun was over the yard-arm. To this end he had fitted a yard-arm to our cross-trees with a universal joint, thus enabling us to keep the spar directly under the sun at any hour of the day or night."

The celebration was proceeding merrily when, as fre- quently happens in the tropics, without warning or signal of any kind a simoon, a monsoon, and a typhoon met head on immediately above the vessel. Dr. Traprock is no land-lubber. In '95, off the Blue Canary Islands, he had weathered an octoroon, " one of those eight-sided storms " which span his ship round like a top and covered the sea for miles with the bodies of canaries. He declares this experience on the Kama ' by far the most extraordinary he has ever had. " How long we were whirled in that devil's grip of the element, I cannot say. It may have been a day—it may have been a week. We were all below, battened down . . . tight. At times we lost consciousness—at times we were sick—at times both. I remember standing on Triplett's face and peering out through a salt-glazed port-hole at a world of water-spouts. as thick as forest trees, dancing, melting, crashing upon us. I sank back. This was the end . . •" When the storm lifted the 'Kawa ' was as " bald as a badger." Mast, jigger, bowsprit, block and tackle had gone by the board. Even the lines on the chart had been washed away ; and the navigating instruments, including the quadrant, sextant, and the hydrant, which had been left on deck, were, of course, lost. Sails were improvised from sheets and blankets knotted together. But it was slow work. At the most, Dr. Traprock says, they made eight knots, " but half of them pulled out at the least provocation." Fortunately, a stiff breeze sprang up and about an hour before dawn they met with the first signs of land.

" Did you hear that, sir ? ' said Captain Triplett in a low tone.

' No . . . what was it. ? '

' A sea-robin . . . we must be near land . . . there it is again.'

I heard it that Limo . . . the faint, sweet note of the male sea-robin."

Soon afterwards they heard the mewing of a sea-puss evidently chasing the sea-robin. To their joy, land proved to be an entirely original group of islands. They numbered some half a dozen and were all alike. The base was a perfect circle of beach and palm ; from its centre rose " an elaborate mountain to a sheer height of two thousand, perhaps ten thousand feet "—red, yellow, and blue in colour. " The general effect was that of a pastry master- piece on a large scale." Travellers frequently remark upon the odour of the islands they visit ; these particular islands had'an entirely new odour, " half nostalgic, half diablerie." But strangest of all was their sound, a " queer dripping noise . . . as of light rain." With the aid of field-glasses they discovered its cause. The trees were " literally crawling with nuts," coconuts, bread fruit, and grape fruit, which fell in an incessant shower through the broad pan- jandrus leaves to the ground. From this phenomenon the Filbert Islands take their name.

On landing, the party fell in with some of the natives, who, having known no outside influence but the waters of the Pacific Ocean, were entirely pacific. As a protection against the continuous showers of nuts they carried large umbrellas of panjandrus leaves. In their company, Dr. Traprock and his friends visited the interior. We have no space to enumerate the natural beauties of the island and the strange plants they found, such, for instance, as the fragrant alova bloom, " one inhale of which contained the kick of three old-fashioned mint-juleps." The Filbert islanders live in the trees. Though large in stature, " they are entitled to an A-plus in beauty," and reminded Dr. Traprock of a " hand-picked selection of Caucasians who had been coated with flat-bronze radiator paint."

By day the travellers were feasted ; by night they were serenaded. Dr. Traprock has recorded one of the beautiful native love-songs. The liquid chorus—a European cannot hope to do it justice- " W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w, Yyyyyyyyy " he says is indescribable. It may interest musicians to know that " the Filbertines employ the dietetic scale exclusively, four notes in the ascent, five on the recoil." While on the island Professor Whinney was able to obtain a nest of the fatu-liva, a bird with a mournful motherhood cry. Mournful because the eggs are square. The photograph of the nest given in the book is very successful—though Professor Whinney was disappointed with it, as one of the eggs moved. Without nautical instruments of any kind it seemed as if the Kawa ' would be forced to stay at the island. However, Captain Triplett saw a native woman one day with a remarkable flower in her hair. If she turned to the right, the flower turned to the left. If she turned to the left, the flower turned to the right. It was the well-known compass-plant. With its aid and with the aid of other natural instruments, including a jackass-quadrant, Captain Triplett decided it would be safe to venture into the Pacific. The explorers were hastened by the fact that several of the natives had shown signs of a New York epidemic—prickly-heat. The islands ran a danger of being depopulated. At sea their troubles did not end. The jackass-quadrant proved too much a jackass and too little a quadrant. Then the compass-plant, which they kept in a shell filled with water, began to sicken and die.

Dr. Traprock writes :— " Whether some sea-water splashed into the shell, or whether it was just change of environment, I do not know. But day by day it drooped and faded. I shall never forget the night she breathed her last. With white faces we sat about the tmy bowl in which lay our hope of orientation. In Triplett's great paw was a fountain-pen filler of fresh water, which he gently dropped on the flowerlet's up- turned face. At exactly one-thirty solar time the tiny petals fluttered faintly and closed.

` She's gone,' said Triplett, and dashed a tear, the size of a robin's egg, from his furrowed cheek. In that diastly light we stared at each other."

After that they gave up navigation and went in for plain sailing. Food began to run short. In defiance of the traditions of seamanship—that is, instead of going on short rations—they had one final feast,. finishing it with a glass of hoops, a native drink, which knocked them senseless. The yacht, however, was faithful and took them home unaided. They regained consciousness when she reached Papeete. Their friends were all there.

" O'Brien—dear old Fred—and Martin Johnson, just in from the Solomon with miles of fresh film ; McFee, stopping over- night on his way to the West Indies ; Bill Beebe, with his pockets full of ants ; Safroni, ` Mac ' MacQuarrie, Freeman, ` Cap ' Bligh—thinner than when I saw him in Penang—and, greatest surprise of all, a bluff, Harris-tweeded person who peered over the footboard of my bed, and roared in rough sea-tones

` Well, as I live and breathe, Walter Traprock 1' It was Joe Conrad."

The next trip they make Dr. Traprock proposes shall be chosen by the Kawa ' herself—" route, destination, and return (if any)."

We can heartily recommend The Cruise of the Kawa ' as being worthy of the country which produces our contem- porary Life. It more than achieves its purpose as an antidote for an overdose of South Sea books. All the weaknesses and affectations which distinguish the majority of them are thrown into high light.

Will anyone dare to inflict another upon a long-suffering world for some months to come ?