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 we had not to encounter these ocean monsters. It was a man—a living man, an Indian: a poor devil of a diver, no doubt, who came to glean before the corn was cut. I could perceive his canoe anchored some feet above his head. He dived and ascended again; a stone which he held between his feet (a cord that secured him to the boat) was sufficient to cause him to descend rapidly. This was his whole apparatus. As he reached the bottom he fell upon his knees and filled his net with pintadines, collected indiscriminately. He then ascended, emptied the net, replaced the stone, and recommenced his operations, which never exceeded thirty seconds’ duration.

The diver did not perceive us. The shadow of the rock hid us; and, besides, how could this poor Indian suppose that beings like himself would be there under water watching his movements, not losing a detail?

Many times he ascended and dived again. He did not bring up more than ten oysters at a time, for he was obliged to tear some away by main force; and how many of these oysters had no pearls, for which he was risking his life!

I was watching him with fixed attention; his movements were regular, and during half an hour no danger threatened him. I was getting accustomed in watching this interesting fishing, when suddenly, as the Indian was kneeling on the ground, I saw him make a gesture of terror, rise up, and spring for his boat.

I understood the position. A gigantic shadow appeared above the terrified diver. It was a shark of the largest size, which was swimming diagonally—eyes flaming, and with extended jaws.

I was petrified with horror.

The voracious fish, by a vigorous stroke of his fins, darted towards the Indian, who threw himself aside, and