Captain Shark-Killer 79 



had amply shown that a successful shark station could be set up there to provide 

 the natives with a badly needed industry. We were supposed to return to Paris, 

 headquarters for the European branch of the leather company, make our report, 

 and then head for Madagascar, where another shark station was to be established. 



I said a sad goodbye to Ali. Then I started walking across the tide flat to our 

 battered old Ford that rattled out to Warimos from Djibouti at low tide. The 

 Ford had to make a fast turn-around in order to make the round-trip during 

 a single low tide. 



Ali, ever my shadow, ran after me. He knew there wasn't any time for cere- 

 monies; the Ford had to start off right away. I tried to soothe him by telling 

 him Fd be coming back to Madagascar, and, when I did, I would take him 

 with me. 



A big grin spread across faithful All's face. He knew practically no English, 

 but he managed to say, "I wait for you." 



How long Ali waited Fll never know. Our plans were changed in Paris. 

 The company decided against starting a station at Madagascar. My next shark- 

 hunting grounds would be Australia. 



En Route to Australia 



After a short Hawaiian vacation that included a few old-fashioned shark 

 hunts, I set out for Australia on a ship that stopped at many South Pacific islands 

 along the way. At every stop I made it my business to inquire into the local 

 shark situation. A sharkman's holiday. 



I spoke to missionaries who had spent much of their lives in the islands; 

 through interpreters I interviewed native fishermen; I discussed shark, in pidgin 

 English, with venerable chieftains whose knowledge of the ways of the shark 

 was based on decades of practical experience. 



I soon learned that there was no doubt in this part of the world about the 

 shark's man-eating habits. Every island I visited had its own history of shark 

 attacks. And, on nearly every island, there was visible evidence: one-legged or 

 one-armed men and boys who explained their injuries with whatever their 

 word was for shark. 



The islanders respect the shark, but they do not panic at the sight or thought 

 of him. They seem to have the same regard for the shark that the African has 

 for the lion, and, like the African, an island fisherman is not afraid to hunt the 

 shark when conditions are favorable. 



In Samoa, natives catch sharks for food. They wrap the sharks in broad ti 

 leaves and roast them in underground pits. Sharks are so abundant around some 

 of the islands that for countless years the natives have had a regular trade with 

 the Chinese for shark fins. 



One popular method of fishing in the islands is with a great net which is 

 taken out by about 10 men who form it into a semi-circle, with the open end 

 pointing toward shore. As they slowly walk the net toward shore, corralling 

 small fish in the process, sharks almost inevitably appear near the fishermen, 

 who apparently are not bothered by this uninvited company. 



But the natives will not share the water with the shark at night, the time 

 when most species of shark prowl for food. The shark at night is looked upon 



