78 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



them back to my thoughts. Frankly, I did not 

 like such company, for I am no reformer of times 

 out of joint, and dynamite never attracted me 

 as a bedfellow. At first, I resolved to leave them 

 in their parcel until the morning. Then curiosity 

 got the better of nervousness, and, first soaking 

 the thing in water, with some vague notion of 

 lessening the danger of an explosion I cut the 

 string and found two ugly looking bombs, each 

 with a fuse embedded in the deadly paste and 

 tightly bound round with string to prevent its 

 falling out, so the note explained, before striking 

 the water. At an early hour next morning I 

 took them in my boat and dropped them unlit 

 into the sea half a mile from the harbour. Dyna- 

 mite is a heinous means of killing fish, save in 

 such cases as that of a white man with a big camp 

 to feed. With responsibilities of that kind, no 

 man will trouble whether the method is sporting 

 or not ; all he asks is that he shall find food for 

 hungry mouths. 



The parapets opposite the Scali degli Olandesi 

 afforded some good mullet at times, but the pub- 

 licity of the street, with the too intimate admiration 

 of a crown of lazzeroni, did not tempt me. Fortun- 

 ately, as has already been related, I was made free 

 of a more private stew, and the engineer begged 

 me to fish in the docks whenever I pleased. I 

 pleased almost every morning for the next two 



