148 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



the sharp rocks that stand like teeth in every pool 

 on that coast, but when my guide declared on 

 each occasion that I had hooked a gigantic grouper, 

 I had not, particularly as he obviously knew the 

 truth, the heart to argue, so day after day we played 

 the same game without ever diminishing the grou- 

 per population by one. 



The way not to catch grouper, in which, thanks 

 to Thackeray's able instructions, I was soon a 

 past master, is, briefly, as follows. Our arrival 

 at the water's edge was timed for low tide, and, 

 after one or two experiences, he learnt to allow 

 me about three times as long as he would have 

 taken alone. The first thing was to gather bait, 

 which, by way of mercifully lightening our load, 

 Nature provided in abundance on the spot. Crabs, 

 which, mindful of former narrow escapes, scuttled 

 into crevices at our approach, were speared by 

 the nimble Thackeray before they were quite out 

 of reach. Another bait was known as " cungevoi," 

 doubtless an aboriginal word like r< morwong " 

 and " nannygai." This was detached with the 

 aid of a blunt knife from its submerged foothold 

 in the rock pools. Of cungevoi I retain a less 

 vivid memory than I could wish, but my impres- 

 sion after this lapse of years is that it was some 

 form of sea-urchin. Touching sea-urchins gener- 

 ally, there seems excuse for a digression in view 

 of a disagreeable experience I had during a recent 



