From the beach can be seen, at low tide, long lines of poles radiating in all directions. These form the fishing traps that are used chiefly for catching a fish called "plah-tu." It is about the size of a herring, tastes like trout when fresh, and like kippers when smoked. During the north-east monsoon these fish are driven in great shoals to the northern end of the gulf, and while this wind continues to blow the fishermen are kept busily employed. The fishing stakes are long slender poles. They are fixed in the bed of the sea about forty inches apart from each other, in double rows, forming a funnel-shaped passage with a very wide entrance or mouth. Several funnels converge upon a central circular or rectangular structure also made of thin poles, which we may for convenience call the trap. Nets are fixed in it by cords so as to be ready for use when the fishermen pay it a visit. The radiating lines are often half a mile long, and as they move to and fro in the restless sea they form an impassable barrier to the timid fish, who are driven by the currents into the trap, from which they seem unable to find their way out. The boats usually go out at sunset, and they form a very pretty picture as they skim lightly over the buoyant waves, their yellow porous mat-sails catching rosy or orange hues from the setting sun, which are again mirrored in deeper shades in the purple waters below. On reaching the trap the men let down their nets, only to haul them up again a few minutes later, laden with silvery fish. The boats return about daybreak. Their coming is eagerly awaited by the whole population, who turn out to receive them. Buffalo carts are also ready to carry the fish from the boats to the village. In the village the night's booty is sorted and examined. The fish are cleaned and the gills removed, all the refuse being thrown into strong brine. The briny solution of fishy odds and ends is afterwards sold as "fish sauce". The best fish are very lightly steamed and then packed in flat circular baskets, put on board the swiftest sailing boats, and sent off to Bangkok. A certain amount is sold to people near at hand, or used for food by the villagers themselves. The remainder are either smoked, or packed with brine in deep pits in the ground. When well salted the fish is dried and exported. The value of the fish exported is about one and a half million dollars. It finds great favour with the Chinese. The Javanese too buy large quantities of the salted fish, chiefly on account of the salt that they purchase at the same time, for pure salt is a very dear luxury in that island. The decaying rotten refuse is used as manure in the kitchen gardens of the Chinese. If its properties as a manure are half as powerful as its odour, it should be extremely valuable.