From the aquarium our party went up the beach to where the Sky-Bird II was resting under guard, and putting two new negroes to the task, they returned and had lunch with Mr. Choate, following which he conducted them down to the pier and aboard his sea-going motor-yacht, _L'Apache_. This trim vessel had a crew of five men, and as she started away, headed for the Bahama Islands, a 25-foot motor-driven tender bobbed along in her wake. In this they were to do most of their fishing, their host declared. Assisted by the northeastward pressure of the Gulf Stream, they made splendid progress, and that evening cast anchor behind Bimini, a tiny isle which rests like a jeweled feather on a summer sea. It was like pulling teeth to go below deck for sleep and leave the wondrous beauty of the tropical night, with the soft, cool touch of the ever-blowing trade wind, the shadowy grace of the giant coconut-palms swaying and whispering on the nearby beach in the moonlight, while the surf, lapping upon the coral reef on the outer side of the isle, lulled them with its crooning obligato. At sunrise all hands were up and ready for the sport. A hot breakfast was served by the cook, after which they piled aboard the motor-tender, throwing in rods, lines, and harpoons. Through the island channel out to the open sea they went, all except the steersman hanging over the side of the craft and enjoying the amazing sights in the clear depths below. Bob excitedly pointed out a group of six or eight big tarpon lazily wallowing about fifty feet beneath them. And less than two minutes afterward, Paul, in no less excitement, announced the discovery on his side of a big nurse-shark which was rolling an eye at him from the ocean's floor. John pointed out, from the bow, a great school of fish numbering possibly ten thousand, which Mr. Choate stated were small mangrove-snappers. They were parading up and down a stretch of coral shelf along the bottom, and they made a wild dash and hid in crannies under the coral as a big barracuda unexpectedly shot into their midst and grabbed one unlucky snapper. In a little while the fishermen were out into the open sea, and all began to scan the pulsating bosom of the Gulf Stream with fresh interest. Strange as it may seem, the fish of tropical waters do not appear to have the slightest apprehension of danger from the noise of a motor-boat, and one cannot only get very close to them, but can follow them about and observe their movements without trouble, particularly if he is familiar with their habits. In a little while Mr. Giddings called the attention of all to a dark shadow not far below the surface, about two boat-lengths on the quarter. Mr. Choate promptly announced this to be a "herring-hog," a species of porpoise, and ordered the boat turned that way.