124 DAHLAK 



is probably because of this association that they are intimid- 

 ating. It did not run into us, but turned aside at five yards, 

 swelling half out of the water just avoiding ditching Gigi 

 with its back-wash. 



At 4.30 p.m. a masterstroke from Gigi sent the arrow full 

 into the belly of a manta weighing at least four hundred- 

 weight. He caught it just at the right moment as it turned 

 two yards in front of the bows to avoid our charge. Like its 

 counterpart of the morning, the manta set out for Ghubbet 

 Mus Nefit dragging us behind. The engine was going flat 

 out, but it might just as well have not existed for the speed 

 of the manta far outstripped it. The propeller was spinning 

 in a vacuum and we were travelling at not less than ten 

 knots, huddled in the stern to prevent the bows from going 

 under. The line was as tight as a bowstring. 



At 4.31 p.m. the line snapped. It could resist no longer. 

 We seemed to have come to a dead end although the engine 

 was still carrying bravely on ... we sat down without 

 speaking. It was all over. I shut off the petrol and lit a 

 cigarette for Gigi and myself, feeling rather weary. Perhaps 

 it was the sun. Perhaps the mantas. We were right out of 

 luck to-day. Gigi felt the leg that was hurting him. 



At 5 p.m. we were back again in the eighth circle of hell, 

 giddy and incapable of viewing with detachment one of the 

 most amazing marine events that man could ever have 

 witnessed. Mechanically, I went through the ritual of 

 entering the water, and swam away from the boat. What 

 was the use of the gun ? Swarms of cefaloni in serried rank 

 surrounded me, passing close by at high speed, agitated — 

 though not by me — obsessed with a mania for dashing to 

 the left and right in continuous acceleration. A great shark 

 went by, but it had little effect on me and I none on it. 

 How many cefaloni I saw in that half hour I shall never 



