264 THE SALT OF MY LIFE 



on the proportion of the sexes in this singular 

 partnership, otherwise polygamy might have ex- 

 plained the uneven number, but it is a mystery 

 worth clearing up by someone with better 

 opportunities. 



The invocation usually ends with a final 



Quo, moreia, quo ! 



and then comes soft whistling between the closed 

 teeth. While the music is working its subtle 

 spell, the man dips in the water a slab of tunny, 

 so putrid on occasion that it ought to attract 

 muraenas even from the Canary Islands. Again 

 and again he dips this alluring food in the water, 

 squeezes it in both hands, so that fragments drop 

 back into the pool and are carried by the force 

 of each wave into every cranny where an epicure 

 may lurk. This gloomy performance, always ac- 

 companied by the chanting, may be protracted 

 until more tunny is required, or it may meet 

 with immediate and well deserved success. Sud- 

 denly the man's attitude is rigid. He has seen the 

 sinuous form of a muraena glide into view from 

 beneath a rock. Still singing and whistling, a 

 performance which he continues almost uncon- 

 sciously, he quietly lays down what remains of 

 the bait and, making as little fuss as possible, 

 reaches for one of three implements, with which 

 to secure the eel. This may be done with a baited 



