The billows rolled listlessly by, as if conscious that their long task was nigh done; while gleamed the white reef, like the trail of a great fish in a calm.

But as yet, no sign of paddle or canoe; no distant smoke; no shining thatch.
Bravo! good comrades, we've discovered some new constellation in the sea.
Sweet Yillah, no more of Oroolia; see you not this flowery land?
Nevermore shall we desire to roam.
Voyaging along the zone, we came to an opening; and quitting the firmament blue of the open sea, we glided in upon the still, green waters of the wide lagoon.

Mapped out in the broad shadows of the isles, and tinted here and there with the reflected hues of the sun clouds, the mild waters stretched all around us like another sky.
Near by the break in the reef, was a little island, with palm trees harping in the breeze; an aviary of alluring sounds, that seemed calling upon us to land.

And here, Yillah, whom the sight of the verdure had made glad, threw out a merry suggestion.

Nothing less, than to plant our mast, sail-set, upon the highest hill; and fly away, island and all; trees rocking, birds caroling, flowers springing; away, away, across the wide waters, to Oroolia! But alas! how weigh the isle's coral anchor, leagues down in the fathomless sea?
We glanced around; but all the islands seemed slumbering in the flooding light.
"A canoe! a canoe!" cried Samoa, as three proas showed themselves rounding a neighboring shore.