THE TURTLES, 363 
A story is related of an Indian slave, who when out fishing 
in his canoe, near Martinique, happened to find a turtle asleep 
on the water; paddling cautiously until he was close to it, he 
passed a running noose over its fins, having previously fastened 
the other end of the line to the prow of his canoe. The turtle 
was not long in awaking to the new situation, and made off, 
dragging the boat as if it were a straw, this the Indian had not 
bargained for; but had hoped that with his paddle he would be 
an equal match for the creature; however, he soon found himself 
compelled to give all his attention to steering his boat, as it met 
the waves. At last he was capsized, and lost in the accident 
his lines, his paddle and his knife, and had he not been a good 
swimmer he could not have regained his canoe. Fortunately, 
however, he managed to retain his hold of the fugitive boat, and 
to reseat himself ; being now without a paddle he had no command 
over the canoe, and was unable either to cut the cord, or untie it. 
Frequently the waves capsized him, and for two nights and a day, 
the turtle held on its course; but at last began to show signs 
of fatigue, as it neared an island. The Indian himself, almost 
famished with hunger, was just able to secure his prize and reach 
the shore, where the flesh of his captive revived his failing strength. 
In the neighbourhood of Cuba, a most peculiar method of 
securing the turtle is pursued. They train, or, at least they take 
advantage of the instinct of a fish, a species of remora, only larger 
than the one we described in Chapter XXXV._ This fish is called 
by the Spaniards Revé (reversed); because its back is generally 
taken for its belly. Like the remora it has an oval plate attached 
to its head, whose surface is traversed by parallel ridges; by this 
plate it can firmly adhere to any solid body it may choose. The 
boats which go in quest of turtle each carry a tub containing some 
of these revés. When the sleeping reptiles are seen, they are 
cautiously approached, and as soon as they are judged to be near 
enough, a revé is thrown into the sea. Upon perceiving the turtle, 
its instinct induces it at once to swim towards it, and fix itself 
firmly upon it by its sucking disc. 
Colomb, who is accountable for this almost incredible narrative, 
asserts that the revé would allow itself to be pulled in pieces before 
it would leave its hold. A ring is attached to the tail of the fish, 
