the waters; sometimes the man completely washed off his catamaran, and man floating one way and catamaran another, till they seem to catch each other again by magic." In 1906, a fisherman was going out in his catamaran to fish outside the Madras harbour, and was washed off his craft, and dashed violently against a rock. Death was instantaneous. Of the catamaran, the following account is given by Colonel W. Campbell.*[1] "Of all the extraordinary craft which the ingenuity of man has ever invented, a Madras catamaran is the most extraordinary, the most simple, and yet, in proper hands, the most efficient. It is merely three rough logs of wood, firmly lashed together with ropes formed from the inner bark of the cocoanut tree. Upon this one, two, or three men, according to the size of the catamaran, sit on their heels in a kneeling posture, and, defying wind and weather, make their way through the raging surf which beats upon the coast, and paddle out to sea at times when no other craft can venture to face it. At a little distance, the slight fabric on which these adventurous mariners float becomes invisible, and a fleet of them approaching the land presents the absurd appearance of a host of savage-looking natives wading out towards the ship, up to their middle in water." "A catamaran," Lady Dufferin writes,†[2] in an account of a state arrival at Madras, "is two logs of wood lashed together, forming a very small and narrow raft. The rower wears a 'fool's cap,' in which he carries letters (also betel and tobacco), and, when he encounters a big wave, he leaves his boat, slips through the wave himself, and picks up his catamaran on the other side of it. Some very large deep barges (masula boats), the planks of which are
