He came from a race of giants. His ancestors had held sway over the great breadth of the Pacific for many centuries, and were the lords of the South Sea. When he first saw the light it was where the towering peaks of Juan Fernandez rose above the eastern sea, like the backs of huge marine monsters, from the deep ocean, topped by a heavy pall of vapor which rose densely for miles into the blue above and spread out like an enormous umbrella. Between the darkening under surface of the higher layers of white, reaching down to the green hills beneath, rectangular sections of steel-blue showed the semi-tropic rainfall. They were sharply outlined against the clear sky beyond, for off the land the sky was devoid of a single trade-cloud. All around was peaceful calm. The great Pacific, father of waters, was resting. Only the high-rolling swell from far away to the westward came majestically onward toward the shore, rising higher and higher as it met, deep down, the resistance of the outlying reefs, until it threw its crest far into the air, and, with a thunderous roar of welcome, rushed white and churning against the iron-hard cliffs, which received it silently and hurled it backward as if coldly repellent of its embrace.

The sun had shone strongly for days upon the smooth, heaving swell, and out upon the sunken ledges where the albicore lingered; the rays filtered down to the solid rock. Here, sheltered by the reef beyond, the breakers did not disturb the ocean denizens. The deep-toned thunder of the fall on the outer barrier filled the air, but beneath the surface of the clear water all was quiet in the sunshine. The king was a young one of a large family. Scores of his brothers and sisters lay close to the bottom peering in and out among the forests of kelp, and enjoying the rays of the warm sun, for the albicore is essentially a surface fish. The heat and light were very pleasant to them, and they were growing strong and healthy.

The older fish had come inshore some weeks before our hero was born, but food was plentiful about the island and they still lingered. They had spawned and had seen their young brought forth. Now their duty was done and they swarmed about the ledges or plunged playfully about the slues in the reef, chasing the smaller fish to shelter in pure wantonness. They lingered on when it was time for them to take to the great stretch of ocean to the westward and make room for others of the deep ocean tribes. Now the young were about in great numbers, and they seemed almost to crowd the waters in the sheltered coves. It was high time to go to sea again, and on the morrow the leaders of the school would start for the open ocean to the west, where the sun sank out of sight. Those who could follow might be safe, for the older fish were very strong, and their numbers would prevent any of the hanger-on crowd of sullen sharks from coming too near the flanks of the moving throng.

A leader passed while our young one was watching the light. He was a great fish six feet in length, his sides shimmering like silver. His long, sinuous body apparently made no motion, save that it went ahead slowly and steadily, and his eyes sparkled like glistening crystals. His thin, tapering head seemed barely to disturb the medium about him as he went through it, and the only vibration of the light rays near him was caused by the huge mouth, which, although shut, showed heavy projecting lips and a half-concealed row of pointed teeth that rippled the water slightly as he slipped past. He was a long, powerful fellow, capable of great speed, and a stroke from those jaws of his meant death to anything in the sea of his size except the shark. Even the tough hide of this scavenger would not protect him from a frightful cut when the long, muscular body was launched at him with the speed of an arrow. A dark shadow which had come near the edge of the broken water gradually drew away with the albicore’s approach, and the young one experienced a feeling of relief instinctively which he could not understand. He was a very sensitive young one, all nerves, and the uneasiness which possessed him when the large relative drew away caused him to make an effort to follow. But the great albicore took no notice of him, nor waited, but suddenly made a dart ahead, leaving only the vision of a silvery flash.

Other large fellows came and went while the younger ones strayed about the shoal water and chased the herring spawn or whale-food, eating much and gaining strength hourly.

High above the bare rocks a shaggy goat nibbled the grass of the hillside, and to the southward a chunky, dirty bark lay with her courses hauled up and her mainyards aback, while a dense smoke arose from her trying-out furnace. Alongside of her the carcass of a freshly killed whale rolled just awash in the swell, attracting countless thousands of whalebirds and loafing sharks.

The young albicore grew very nervous as the sun sank behind the sea in the far west, dyeing the waves a deep crimson. He was remarkably sensitive for an ocean fish. Instinct told him that he would fare better away from that reef after the last full-grown albicore had gone. They had been going to sea all day by twos and threes, but had paid not the slightest attention to him or any of his younger mates. The longing for the open ocean came upon him and with it a nameless dread. He had no mother to guide him, no father to protect him. They had gone to sea with the rest and left him to shift for himself. But there was something in the deepening roar of the surf and the moaning of the sea among the sunken ledges that spoke of an all-pervading Power that would guide him onward to whatever life held in store. And yet with it all was that nameless fear and dread which made him alert to every vibration of the water. Darkness came suddenly, and some of his smaller companions began to seek shelter of the more shallow water within the coves and between the rocks. Their shimmering bodies grew less and less distinct until only the phosphorescent flare of the disturbed water when they moved gave notice of their presence. The semi-tropical night fell upon the peaceful ocean.

All that night the great fish moved westward. In the morning, just before the sun rose, the last of the laggards had started off into deep water, leaving the high cliffs like a wall in the eastward, while the somber bank of vapor rose again from the land and cast a gloom over the outlying reef.

While the young fish were waiting for the growing light to guide them in the wake of their forbears, there was a sudden commotion on the edge of the surf. Numerous plunges and splashes told of a horde of rapidly moving bodies advancing through the shoal water of the reef. The feeling of terror that had come over our young one the day before now seemed to pervade the entire crowd that scurried here and there in the gloom. Everywhere there seemed to be a state of wild alarm. Bunches of the smaller fish tried to find shelter in deep, dark holes where the kelp weed formed mats and snaky tangles. Then, just as the first rays of the morning sun glistened upon the crest of a great roller, there was a sudden rush through the water all about, and dark forms came plunging onward with incredible speed.

Our young one caught a glimpse of a great fish high in the air heading for him, and the next instant there were several huge gaping mouths between pairs of shining eyes rushing upon him from all sides. He saw his young comrades seized and swallowed, their frantic efforts to escape availing them not the least. Then with a wild terror, which spurred him to frantic action, he rushed seaward. A giant mouth made a snap at him as he went past. A huge form rose in the air and dropped upon him with jaws gaping. He made a mad dodge and just missed the rows of teeth, while the stroke of the falling body almost stunned him. Then he recovered and tore for the outer breakers. The bonita had struck inshore, and lucky would be the small fish who could escape their rush.

Away into the deepening blue of the ocean he sped headlong with all his energy. He looked neither to the right nor left, but held his way straight ahead with the terror of those fierce monsters vibrating through his whole being. On and on, without a thought of rest or slacking his speed, he pushed until the bright sunshine showed him a desolate waste of fathomless blue void around and beneath him, and a bluer void above, with the little lumpy trade-clouds swinging past overhead. He was heading almost due west, and as the day wore on and his terror gave place to fatigue, he slacked his speed enough to take a careful look about him. There was not a living thing in sight.

Hunger soon came upon him and stirred him to further action. He began searching the sea for food. Soon one of his former companions came up almost as exhausted as himself with the run for life, and together they swam slowly along just beneath the surface in the roll of the swell.

As the day passed more of his youthful relatives hove in sight until by night six followers held their way in his wake. These were all who had gotten to sea. Few indeed had escaped. The day had marked the death of countless young fish, for the bonita spared nothing that came in their path.

The seven albicore cruised in company, capturing what small surface fish accident cast in their way, but all the time they held a general course to the westward and northward to where the coral reefs rose from the bed of the equatorial ocean. Day after day they swam steadily on, the young albicore leading. Their silvery bodies grew apace and their backs took on a shifting blue color, so that looking down from above, it would have been hard to tell them from the surrounding blue depths. Sometimes the ugly and noisy bos’n-birds would swoop down as though to strike them, but by sinking a few feet beneath the surface the albicore easily escaped. At night the seven swam beneath a tropic moon, and as they went their courage grew rapidly with their size. Unfortunately they approached an unknown peak lying below the surface of the great ocean. Here they were chased by a huge dolphin who haunted the vicinity. Three of their number fell prey to him before they could get away. A week or two later the remaining four fell in with a roaming pair of bonita. Two more went the way of the weak.

The remaining pair of albicore now cruised onward together, our hero leading as before, until they came to Tahiti, in the South Sea. Long accustomed to danger now, they approached the shore warily, their tapering bodies scarcely disturbing the sea. The albicore had grown very fast, developing during these weeks of travel into powerful fish. The teeth of the male leader began to show sharply beyond his lips. He was growing more and more muscular, and the long swim was hardening him. He was sturdy and shrewd, and the wild instinctive fear that had governed his younger actions now gave place to a feeling of confidence. His mate had also developed into a strong fish, and as they swam slowly in through the outer breakers of the barrier reef, their long, sinuous bodies armed with jaws and teeth which were not to be despised, smaller fish approached to welcome them. The albicore received them coldly, heading straight into the sheltered coves of coral, where they would rest from their long run. Here they stopped at last and set about making a new home.

During the months that followed the albicore grew several feet longer. Our leader was now nearly six feet in length, with his long jaws armed with razor-like teeth, his tapering flanks with silvery scales covering muscles of great hardness and power. And with that power came a consciousness of his worth. His wild life and flight made him careful of the denizens of the coral banks. He grew cold and thoughtful until, as he reached his final development physically, he was a dignified and quiet fellow. The smaller sociable fish of the reef did not understand him. Theirs was a life of ease and comparative safety, and their thoughts seldom went beyond the boundaries of the outer barrier. They fussed among themselves and voted the great stranger and his companion surly company. The inquisitive little sunfish would sometimes take a peep in at the cove where the albicore usually lay in the sunshine on bright afternoons, but there was something in the great fish’s manner that the little reefer could not understand, and he set him down for a villain, keeping at a distance and looking askance always at those ragged teeth that peeped out from the long, sharp jaws. Even the mullet were warned, and gave the albicore a wide berth, while all the time he lay there with his thoughts far away where the peaks of Juan Fernandez rose from the sea. He was indeed a stranger in a strange place. Finally he was left alone with his mate.

The little sociable fish were heeded not at all by the albicore. He went to the reef daily and caught what small game he wished. His dignified movements were even watched by the great ground shark who lay daily under the shelter of the outer barrier, waiting to snap up any unwary traveler who might be unfortunate enough to be caught in the rolling surf and lose control of himself. Once only did the shark come in contact with the stranger. It was when the albicore had been rolled shoreward in the roaring surge. The lurking monster thought it a good chance to strike. He received a savage cut over the eye that left him somewhat bewildered and much more respectful of the powerful stranger’s rights in the vicinity.

As the season changed and the trade-wind shifted to the eastward, bringing with it little watery clouds, the two albicore became more and more restless. The future king’s sensitive nature became more and more imbued with the feeling that he must return to the waters of his birth to take his place among those of his kind. He would be needed. The bonita would come again, and there might be no albicore leader to protect those who had escaped their last assault, and who would return to the beautiful peaks that rose from the sea of his birth. There was a feeling within him that he must be there for a purpose. He was something more than a mere cruising pirate of the reefs of the South Pacific. The petty life of little sociable fish was not for such as he. There was something for him to do before he died, and this feeling became stronger and stronger until one rainy morning he started out accompanied by his faithful mate.

He was now at the fullness of his powers, a full-grown albicore of the southern ocean. All the inheritance of the race of giants from whom he had sprung was in his strong frame and lightning-like actions. He could dart so swiftly the eye could hardly follow his form, and by a slight swerve upwards he could spring high into the air above, leaving the sea ten feet or more below him, and then with head pointed gracefully downward, he would plunge into the blue depths, slipping his long, sinuous body so easily into the unresisting medium that there would be hardly a splash to mark his entrance. There were strength and grace in all his movements, and he was as bold as he was beautiful.

The speed of the fastest ship was slow as compared with his tremendous pace, so although he took his time and spent several days hunting upon the surface of the sea, it was but a short run for him to Mas-a-fuera. It was a very different passage from the one made when as a little fellow he voyaged out.

The high, grim cliffs of Mas-a-fuera rise a sheer thousand feet on the north side of the island, and the wind is usually southerly. This makes a ponderous lee, the only sea being the heave of the offshore swell. Many denizens of the deep ocean come in here to rest and search for food, and even the great cachalot, or sperm-whale, often takes a quiet cruise through the clear depths to enjoy the stillness, and incidentally look up a stray octopus or cuttle fish who might be ensconced within some ocean cavern in the cliffs.

It was toward this sheltered lee-shore our albicore held his way. Above the heights the huge pall of vapor rose as in his younger days, standing out clearly against the void of blue, as sharply outlined as a heavy cumulus cloud. There was no mistaking the place. He felt like a sailor who had made a long voyage and had sighted the home port at last.

As he went shoreward, followed by his mate, he noticed many silvery flashes in the water between him and the land. Drawing nearer he saw that these were caused by countless albicore. Soon he was amid a throng of his fellows numbering thousands, all making their way toward the sheltered sea in the lee of the island. With the spirit and instinct born in him and developed by his roaming life, he at once took the lead of this vast school and led them slowly in to the submerged rocks which would shelter them during their stay. Great numbers of females, heavy with spawn, straggled from the flanks of the column, but he swam around them, forcing them all into an almost solid phalanx of moving fish. The memory of the bonita was still fresh within him. He would take no chances with these helpless kindred. They seemed to recognize his leadership without question, and followed quietly wherever he led the way. Now and then some frisky younger member of the horde would make a sudden start to sheer away, but with a rush our leader was upon him, and he was forced back again. As they drew near the island a school of porpoises made a dash among them. These fellows drove the more timid in frantic throngs until our leader came plunging to the rescue followed by a few of the largest and boldest of the school. In a few minutes the warm-blooded animals had received some severe strokes from the razor-like teeth and they went plunging seaward. Then the mass of albicore went in and took possession of the rocks, the smaller fish fleeing before them.

Here at last our hero was in the waters he loved. Game was plentiful and the schools of the albicore led by him along the sunken rocks found it easy to keep supplied. His great size, greater than even the largest of that vast host, made his leadership unquestioned. Everything stood clear of his rush except the sullen sharks, and even they took care not to precipitate trouble by hanging too closely about the rear of his foraging parties as they went their way along the shore.

During the whole season the albicore hung about the reefs of Mas-a-fuera and Juan Fernandez Island. The young had come forth and the sheltered places inside the outer breakers were teeming with them. Our leader had driven to sea all other fish who were at all antagonistic to them, and peaceful tranquillity reigned. Once or twice a growing fellow, who had reached six feet or more in length, wanted to try conclusions with the leader, but he soon had enough after encountering the sharp teeth, and took his place among the followers. He was their king. A king by election and superiority, he led them steadily until the season waned, and the time for the bonita to strike inshore came at hand.

As this time drew near the feeling of unrest began to show itself among the school. Stragglers began to leave the reef and seek the open ocean with the instinctive longing for that safety which exists there. Our king watched them go by pairs and sometimes dozens, but he made no attempt to stop them. There would be enough to look out for without them, and they could well be spared.

Finally the time came for the general movement. He had marshaled the great host of albicore from the adjacent reefs, and together in one vast throng they left for open ocean, going to the northward to avoid the enemy who would attack from the south and west. The bonita were not as large or as heavy as themselves individually, but they were the strongest creatures of their size in the ocean, and their countless numbers made them absolutely fearless. They would attack anything that stood in their path, and their great vitality and quickness made them the most dreaded of all the foraging bands of sea-wolves which roamed the South Sea.

The solid phalanx of albicore started offshore at sunrise, the king in the van and the younger and more helpless bringing up in the rear of the column; but as before many of the young had been overlooked as they loitered among the sheltered places in the rocks.

The head of the moving mass was a full mile from shore before the end of the crowd had begun to leave, and as the sun shone upon the calm ocean, its rays struck glancing along the flanks of thousands of moving bodies, making the water seem like shimmering silver as the light flashed from the bright scales. There was no wind at all, and far away to the westward our leader thought he saw a peculiar disturbance of the sea surface. He took a leap into the air to get a better view and was followed by many of his companions, who usually imitated his example in all his movements. As he rose in the sunshine his glistening armor reflected the light and made him visible for miles. What he had seen upon the western skyline was enough. As far as the eye could reach the ocean had spurted white at his plunge, for the bonita had seen him, and with a front of several miles in extent they were plunging toward the band of albicore, tearing the calm surface to foam with their rush. It was as though some mighty explosion had taken place and spurted the sea upward in little jets along the front of a sunken reef, for the bonita acted almost in unison in spite of their vast numbers. They were now in full charge.

When two rapidly moving bodies, of almost equal weight, meet, the one having the swifter movement will prevail. King Albicore understood this principle instinctively, and instantly darted forward. His followers joined him, and away they rushed straight for the line of breaking water which drew nearer and nearer as the moments flew by. The rear of the column, finding the head leaving at speed, closed up the gap and came onward until soon the entire mass of albicore were driving headlong to the westward as fast as they could go.

It was a magnificent sight to watch those charging columns. A million bonita charging a hundred thousand albicore. Nowhere on land could such vast hosts of large living creatures marshal. The sea was ruffled and foamed for miles with the disturbance of the fleeting bodies, and from above the bos’n-birds could watch the long line of pointed heads making the ocean darken with a huge shadow as the hordes rushed onward.

A mile, then a half—a quarter, and still the ruffling lines of ocean surface seemed to draw nearer with undiminished speed. There was a seeming instant of quiet. A space of apparently unruffled water. And then they met.

Like an eruption from some subterranean crater the sea sprung upward. The long lines of pointed heads struck together. Bodies flung high in the air. Tails, heads, quivering sides streaming from ugly gashes, were thrown into the sunlight, and then upon the quiet of the morning there broke a deep, dull, moaning roar of immense volume.

Full into the center of the great army the king albicore tore his way. Bonita snapped and flashed upon all sides, their vigorous bodies fairly quivering with the rapidity of their movements, but with his jaws cutting like a pair of flying shears, he held his way while his sturdy followers entered behind him and forced the gap. Into this, like a wedge, pressed the body of the column, cutting and fighting with incredible fury. Comrades fell out by the hundred, chopped and torn by the bonita who surged in upon the flanks, but the great mass of albicore tore its way through, killing everything in its path.

Away they went straight ahead. The bonita fell away sullenly from the solid ranks, and in half an hour the last albicore had gone through the gap in close column, leaving the sea and its scavengers to wipe out the marks of their passage. There was no changing front to that horde. The course was straight ahead. It was certain death to be left behind.

The bonita held their way toward the reefs of Mas-a-fuera and were soon out of sight in the East.

But King Albicore, what of him?

With flanks cut and ripped almost to ribbons he stuck at the head of the column. No sheering this way or that. The feeling had come upon him that he had done his duty. He had fulfilled his mission. He, the king, had led his comrades to victory, and he must pay the great debt which falls to all sons of nature. Silently and steadily he went along, his instinct telling him his time had come. But with it there were no regrets.

He had done all he could for his kind, and like a king he would die.

The bright sunshine would fade and the blue water would disappear forever. They would forget him, and another leader would take his place. But he knew he had done his duty and knew he had done it well, and the great throng would live to be thankful for his prowess.

The sunlight seemed to be fading and darkness appeared to be coming upon the ocean, yet he knew it was not quite midday. He turned to take one look at the mighty host he had brought to sea. They were still following him faithfully.

Then the light went out. He turned upon his side and sank downward through the blue depths, while the albicore held their way to the coral reefs of the South Sea.