something like those which are used in oyster dredging.
“If Monsieur is not displeased at my remark, I would say that these savages are very wicked; are they?” asked Conseil.
“They are at any rate cannibals, my friend.”
“Still they can be cannibals and brave men too,” replied Conseil; “just as one may be a gourmand and an honest man. The one does not exclude the other.”
“Well, Conseil, I grant you that there may be honest cannibals, who honestly devour their captives. However, as I do not wish to be eaten, even honestly, I will be upon my guard; for it seems that the captain of the Nautilus is taking no precaution whatever. Now let us get to work.”
We fished for two hours, without pulling up anything extraordinary. We caught some “Ears of Midas,” some “harpes,” some “holotures,” some pearl oysters, and a dozen little turtles, which we handed over to the cook. But at a moment when I was least attentive, I lighted upon a wonderful specimen—I might almost say a natural deformity—very rarely met with. Conseil dragged the net, and it came up filled with a number of ordinary specimens; when suddenly I plunged my hand quickly into the net and pulled out a shell-fish, and uttered the cry of a conchologist, which is the most piercing cry that the human throat can produce.
“What is the matter?” asked Conseil, in surprise. “Has Monsieur been bitten?”
“No, but nevertheless my finger has paid for my discovery.”
